Another Part of the Field. |
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Alarums. Enter DAUPHIN, ORLEANS, BOURBON, CONSTABLE, RAMBURES, and Others. |
Con. O diable! |
Orl. O seigneur! le jour est perdu! tout est perdu! |
Dau. Mort de ma vie! all is confounded, all! |
Reproach and everlasting shame |
Sit mocking in our plumes. O meschante fortune! |
Do not run away. [A short alarum. |
Con. Why, all our ranks are broke. |
Dau. O perdurable shame! let's stab ourselves. |
Be these the wretches that we play'd at dice for? |
Orl. Is this the king we sent to for his ransom? |
Bour. Shame, and eternal shame, nothing but shame! |
Let's die in honour! once more back again; |
And he that will not follow Bourbon now, |
Let him go hence, and with his cap in hand, |
Like a base pander, hold the chamber-door |
Whilst by a slave, no gentler than my dog, |
His fairest daughter is contaminated. |
Con. Disorder, that hath spoil'd us, friend us now! |
Let us on heaps go offer up our lives. |
Orl. We are enough yet living in the field |
To smother up the English in our throngs, |
If any order might be thought upon. |
Bour. The devil take order now! I'll to the throng: |
Let life be short, else shame will be too long. [Exeunt. |
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