SCENE V.

The same. Before one of the gates.

Alarum. Skirmishings. TALBOT pursueth the Dauphin, and driveth him in: then enter JOAN LA PUCELLE, driving Englishmen before her. 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 LA 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

Puc. Come; come, 'tis only I that must dis

[They fight.

serv'st.

grace thee.

prevail ?

My breast I'll burst with straining of my cou

Tal. Heavens, can you suffer hell so to

rage,

And from my shoulders crack my arms asunder, But I will chastise this high-minded strumpet. Puc. Talbot, farewell; thy hour is not yet

come:

I must go victual Orleans forthwith.
O'ertake me, if thou canst; I scorn thy strength.

Go, go, cheer up thy hunger-starved men;
Help Salisbury to make his testament:
This day is ours, as many more shall be.

[PUCELLE enters the town, with soldiers.

- 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 she

lists:

So bees with smoke, and doves with noisome

stench,

Are from their hives, and houses, driven away. They call'd us, for our fierceness, English dogs; Now, like to whelps, we crying run away.

[A short alarum.

Hark, countrymen! either renew the fight,
Or tear the lions out of England's coat;
Renounce your soil, give sheep in lions' stead:
Sheep run not half so timorous from the wolf,
Or horse, or oxen, from the leopard,
As you fly from your oft-subdued slaves.

It will not be:

[Alarum. Another skirmish.

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 aught that we could do. O, would I were to die with Salisbury! The shame hereof will make me hide my head. [Alarum. Retreat. Exeunt TALBOT and his forces, etc.

Enter, on the walls, PUCELLE, CHARLES, REIGNIER,

ALENÇON, and soldiers.

Puc. Advance our waving colours on the

walls;

Rescu'd is Orleans from the English: -

Thus Joan la Pucelle hath perform'd her word.

Char. Divinest creature, Astraea's daughter,

How hall 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!
Recover'd is the town of Orleans:

More blessed hap did ne'er befall our state.

Reig. Why ring not out the bells aloud throughout the town? Dauphin, command the citizens make bonfires, And feast and banquet in the open streets, Te celebrate the joy that God hath given us. Alen. All France will be replete with mirth

and joy,

When they shall hear how we have play'd the

men.

Char. '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 procession, sing her endless praise.
A statelier pyramis to her I'll rear,
Than Rhodope's, or Memphis', ever was:
In memory of her, when she is dead,
Her ashes, in an urn more precious

1

Than the rich-jewel'd coffer of Darius,
Transported shall be at high festivals
Before the kings and queens of France.
No longer on saint 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.

[Flourish. Exeunt.

i

ACT II. SCENE I.

The same.

Enter to the gates, a French Serjeant, and two
Sentinels.

Serj. Sirs, take your places, and be vigilant:
If any noise, or soldier, you perceive,
Near to the walls, by some apparent sign,
Let us have knowledge at the court of guard.

I. Sent. Serjeant, you shall. [Exit Serjeant.] Thus are poor servitors (When others sleep upon their quiet beds) Constrain'd to watch in darkness, rain, and cold.

Enter TALBOT, BEDFORD, BURGUNDY, and forces, with scaling ladders; their drums beating a dead march.

Tal. Lord regent,
dy,

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 banqueted:

Embrace we then this opportunity;
As fitting best to quittance their deceit,
Contriv'd by art, and baleful sorcery.

Bed. Coward of France!

wrongs his fame,

how much he

Despairing of his own' arm's 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 she 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 conquering 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. And I to this.

Tal. And here will Talbot mount, or make

his grave.

Now, Salisbury! for thee and for the right
Of English Henry, shall this night appear
How much in duty I am bound to both.

[The Engli h scale the walls, crying St. George

a Talbot! and all enter by the town.

Sent. [within.] Arm, arm! the enemy doth make

assault!

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