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Glan. And I here, at the bulwark of the bridge.

Tal. For ought I see this city must be familh'd, Or with light skirmishes enfeebled. [Here they shoot ; Salisbury and Sir Tho. Gargrave fall down,

Sal. O Lord, have mercy on us, wretched linners !
Gar. O Lord, have mercy on me, woful man !

Tal. What chance is this that suddenly hath crost us?
Speak, Salisb’ry ; at least if thou canst speak ;
How far’st thou, mirror of all martial men ?
One of thy eyes and thy cheeks side struck off!
Accursed tow'r, accursed fatal band
That hath contriv'd this woful tragedy!
In thirteen battels Salisbury o'ercame :
Henry the Fifth he first train’d to the wars.
Whilft any trump did sound, or drum struck up,
His sword did ne'er leave striking in the field.
Yet liv'st thou, Salis’ry ? though thy speech doth fail,
One eye thou hast to look to heav'n for grace.
Heav'n, bc thou gracious to none alive,
If Salisbury wants mercy at thy hands!
Bear hence his body, I will help to bury it.
Sir Thomas Gargrave, halt thou any life?
Speak unto Talbot, nay, look up to him.
O Salisb’ry, chear thy spirit with this comfort,
Thou shalt not die, while

He beckons with his hand, and smiles on me,
As who should say, when I am dead and gone,
Remember to avenge me on tbe French.
Plantagenet, I will; and, Nero-like,
Play on the lute, beholding the towns burn :
Wretched shall France be only in my name.

[Here an alarum, and it thunders and ligbrense What Air is this ? what tumult's in the heay’ns ? Whence cometh this alarum and this noise ?

Enter a Messenger.
Mej. My Lord, my Lord, the French have gather'd head,
The Dauphin with one Joan la Pucelle join'd,

10 heav'n for grace.
The fun with one tye vieweth all the world,
Heav'n, be thou, &c.
You. V

A a

A holy prophetefs new risen up,
Is come with a great pow'r to raise the fjege.

Here Salisbury lifterb bimself up and groans,
Tal. Hear, hear how dying Salisbury doth groan!
It irks his heart he cannot be reveng'a.
Frenckmen, I'll be a Salisbury to you.
Convey brave Salisbury into his tent,
And then we'll try what daftard Frenchmen dare.

[ Alarm. Exir. [Tbey carry out Salisbury and Sir Tho. Gargrave.

SCENE X. Here an alarum again; and Talbot pursuetb the Daupbin,

and driverb bim : tben enter Joan la Pucelle, driving
Englishmen before 'ber. Then enter Talbot.

Tal. Where is my strength, my valour and my force ?
Our English troops retire, I cannot stay them :
A woman clad in armour chaseth them.

Enter Pucelle.
Here, here she comes. I'll have a bout with thee ;
Devil, or devil's dam, I'll conjure thee :
Blood will I draw on thee, thou art a witch,
And straightway give thy soul to him thou serv'ft.
Pucel. Come, come, 'tis only I that must disgrace thee.

[Tbey figbt. + Talbot, farewel, thy hour is not yet come, I must go victual Orleans forthwith.

A short alarum. Then enter the town witb Soldiers. O'ertake me if thou canst, I scorn thy strength, Go, go, chear up thy hunger-starved men, Help Salisbury to make his teftament: This day is ours, as many more shall be. [Exit Pucelle.

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...a Salisbury to you.
Puzel or Pufjel, Delphin or Dog-fish,
Your hearts I'll stamp out with my Horse's heels,
And make a quagmire of your mingled brains.
Convey brave, &:.

- (They fight.
Tul, Havens, can you suffer hell fo to prevail ?
My breast I'll burst with straining of my courage,
And from my shoulders crack my arms afunder,
But I will chastise this high-minded itrumpet.
Pxcl. Talby, farewel, &c,

Tal. My thoughts are whirled like a potter's wheel. I know not where I am, nor what I do: A witch, by fear not force, like Hannibal Drives back our troops, and conquers as the lists: So Bees with smoak, and Doves with noisom stench, Are from their hives and houses driv'n away. They call'd us for our fierceness English dogs, Now like their whelps we crying run away. (A short alarume Hark, countrymen, either renew the fight, Or tear the Lions out of England's coat; Renounce your foil, give Sheep in Lions stead : Sheep run not half so tim'rous from the Wolf, Or Horse or Oxen from the Leopard, As you fly from your oft-subdued Maves.

(Alarum. Here another skirmishe It will not be : retire into your trenches : You all consented unto Salisbury's death, For none would strike a stroke in his revenge. Pucelle is enter'd into Orleans, In spight of us, or ought that we could do. O would I were to die with Salisbury ! The shame hereof will make me hide my head. [Exit Talbot.

[ Alarum, Retreat, Flourish. SCENE XI. Enter on the wall, Pucelle, Dauphin,

Reignier, Alanfon, and Soldiers,
Pucel, Advance our waving colours on the walls,
Rescu'd is Orleans from the Engliso Wolves :
Thus Joan la Pucelle hath perform’d her word.

Dau. Divinest creature, bright Aftrea's daughter,
How shall I honour thee for this success!
Thy promises are like Adonis gardens,
That one day bloom'd, and fruitful were the next.
France, triumph in thy glorious prophetess !

* The gardens of Adonis were never represented under any local des fcription, nor is any such thing implied in this place. They were only beds of earth put into portable cases of filver or other inatter, in which were raised fuch flowers and herbs as were of quick growth and short continuance, the production and maturity of them being also hasten'd by artificial ineans. Upon this quickness of growth the allusion here is' founded : though anticntly the gardens of Adonis was a proverbial expression to signify transitory feeting plcatures, and perfons also of a Night trifling account. See Erasmi adagia.

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Recover'd

Recover'd is the town of Orleans ;
More blessed hap did ne'er befal our state.

Reig. Why ring not out the bells throughout the town?
Dauphin, command the citizens make bonfires,
And feast and banquet in the open streets,
To celebrate the joy that God hath giv'n us.

Alan. All 'France will be replete with mirth and joy, When they shall hear how we have play'd the men.

Dau. 'Tis Joan, not we, by whom the day is won : For which I will divide my crown with her, And all the Priests and Friars in my realm Shall in proceffion sing her endless praise. A statelier pyramid to her I'll rear, Than Rhodope's or Memphis' ever was : In memory of her, when she is dead, Her alhes, in an urn more precious Than the rich jeweld coffer of Darius, Transported shall be at high festivals, Ever before the Kings and Queens of France. No longer on St. Dennis will we cry, But Joan la Pucelle shall be France's Saint. Come in, and let us banquet royally, After this golden day of victory. [Flouris. Exeunt,

Serj. S If any noise or foldier you perceive

АстІІ. SCENE 1.

Before Orleans.
Enter Serjeant of a Band, with two Centinels.

IRS, take your places, and be vigilant :

If
Near to the wall, by some apparent sign
Let us have knowledge at the court of guard.

Cent. Serjeant, you shall. Thus are poor servitors
(When others Neep upon their quiet beds)
Constrain'd to watch in darkness, rain, and cold.
Enter Talbot, Bedford, and Burgundy, with scaling ladders,

Their drums beating a dead march.
Tal. Lord Regent, and redoubted Burgundy,
By whose approach the regions of Artois,
Walloon, and Picardy are friends to us ;
This happy night the Frenchmen are secure,

Having all day carous’d and banquetted.
Embrace we then this opportunity,

As fitting best to quittance their deceit, - Contriv'd by art and baleful sorcery.

Bed. Coward of France ! how much he wrongs his fame,
Despairing of his own arms fortitude,
To join with witches and the help of hell!

Bur. Traitors have never other company.
But what's that Pucelle whom they term so pure ?

Tal. A maid, they say.
Bed. A maid ? and be so martial ?

Bur. Pray God the prove not masculine ere long,
If underneath the standard of the French
She carry armour as she hath begun.

Tal. Well, let them practise and converse with spirits
God is our fortress, in whose conqu’ring name
Let us resolve to scale their flinty bulwarks,

Bed. Ascend, brave Talbot, we will follow thee,

Tal. Not all together : better far I guess,
That we do make our entrance several ways :
That if it chance the one of us do fail,
The other yet may rise against their force.

Bed. Agreed ; I'll to yon corner.
Bur. I to this.

Tal. And here will Talbot mount,
Now, Salisbury / for thee, and for the right
Of English Henry, shall this night appear
How much in duty I am bound to both.
Cent, Arm, arm! the enemy doth make assault. [Within.

[Tbe English cry, St. George! A Talbot !

SCENE II.
The French leap o'er the walls in their shirts. Enter, seven

ral ways, Bastard, Alanson, Reignier, belf ready and
balf unready.
Alan. How now, my Lords ? what, all unready so ?
Baft. Unready? I am glad we 'scap'd so well.
Reig. 'Twas time, I trow, to wake and leave our beds,
Hearing alarums at our chamber-doors.

Alan. Of all exploits since first I follow'd arms,
Ne'er heard I of a warlike enterprize

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make his grave.

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