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 feaft 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 friers in my realm
Shall in proceffion fing her endless praise.
A ftatelier pyramid to her I'll rear,
Than Rhodope's or Memphis ever was!
In memory of her, when she is dead,
Her afhes, in an urn more precious
Than the rich-jewel'd coffer of Darius, (11)
Tranfported fhall be at high feftivals,
Before the Kings and Queens of France.
No longer on St. Dennis will we cry,
But Joan la Pucelle fhall be France's Saint.
Come in, and let us banquet royally,
After this golden day of victory.

[Flourish. Exeunt.

(11) Coffer of Darius] When Alexander the Great took the City Gaza, the Metropolis of Syria, amidst the other Spoils and Wealth of Darius treafur'd up there, he found an exceeding rich and beautiful little Cheft, or Casket. Having furvey'd the fingular Rarity of it, and ask'd those about him what they thought fitteft to be laid up in it; when they had feverally deliver'd their Opinions, he told them, He efteem'd nothing fo worthy to be preferv'd in it as Homer's Iliads. Vide Plutarchum in Vitâ Alexand. Magni.

ACT

S

ACT II.

SCENE, before Orleans.

Enter a Serjeant of a Band, with two Centinels.

SERJEANT.

IRS, take your places, and be vigilant :
If any noise or foldier you perceive

Near to the wall, by fome apparent fign
Let us have knowledge at the court of
guard.

Cent. Serjeant, you fhall. Thus are poor fervitors (When others fleep upon their quiet beds) Constrain❜d to watch in darkness, rain, and cold.

Enter Talbot, Bedford, and Burgundy, with fealing ladders. Their drums beating a dead march.

Tal. Lord Regent, and redoubted Burgundy,
By whofe approach the regions of Artois,
Walloon, and Picardy are friends to us;
This happy night the Frenchmen are fecure,
Having all day carous'd and banquetted.
Embrace we then this opportunity,
As fitting beft to quittance their deceit,
Contriv'd by art and baleful forcery.

Bed. Coward of France; how much he wrongs his

Defpairing 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 fo pure?

Tal. A maid, they fay.

Bed. A maid? and be fo martial?

I 2

[fame,

Bur

Bur. Pray God, she prove not masculine ere long, If underneath the ftandard of the French

She carry armour, as he hath begun.

Tal. Well, let them practife and converfe with fpirits;
God is our fortrefs, in whofe conqu❜ring name
Let us refolve to fcale their flinty bulwarks.

Bed. Afcend, brave Talbot, we will follow thee.
Tal. Not all together: better far I guess,
That we do make our entrance feveral 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, or make his grave. Now, Salisbury! for thee and for the right

Of English Henry, fhall this night appear.

How much in duty I am bound to both.

Gent. [within.] Arm, arm; the enemy doth make affault.

[The English, fealing the Walls, Cry, St. George! A Talbot! Pon

The French leap o'er the walls in their fhirts. Enter, feveral ways, Baftard, Alanfon, Reignier, half ready and half unready.

Alan. How now, my lords? what all unready fo? Baft. Unready? I, and glad we 'fcap'd fo well. Reig. 'Twas time, I trow, to wake and leave our beds Hearing alarums at our chamber doors.

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

More venturous, or defperate than this.

Baft. I think, this Talbot is a fiend of hell.

Reig. If not of hell, the heav'ns, fure, favour him. Alan. Here cometh Charles, I marvel how he fped. :

Enter Charles and Joan.

Baft. Tut! holy Joan was his defenfive guard.
Char. Is this thy cunning, thou deceitful dame?

Didft thou at firft, to flatter us withal,

Make

Make us partakers of a little gain;

That now our lofs might be ten times as much?

Pucel. Wherefore is Charles impatient with his friend? At all times will you have my pow'r alike? Sleeping, or waking, muft I ftill prevail ? Or will you blame and lay the fault on me? Improvident foldiers, had your watch been good, This fudden mifchief never could have fal'n. Char. Duke of Alanfon, this was your default, That, being captain of the watch to night, Did look no better to that weighty charge. Alan. Had all your quarters been as safely kept, As that whereof I had the government, We had not been thus fhamefully surpriz❜d. Baft. Mine was fecure.

Reig. And fo was mine, my lord.

Char. And for my felf, moft part of all this night,
Within her quarter, and mine own precinct,
I was employ'd in paffing to and fro,
About relieving of the centinels.

Then how, or which way, fhould they firft break in?
Pucel. Question, my lords, no further of the case,
How, or which way; 'tis fure, they found fome part
But weakly guarded, where the breach was made:
And now there refts no other fhift but this,
To gather our foldiers, scatter'd and disperst,
And lay new platforms to endamage them.

[Exeunt.

SCENE, within the Walls of Orleans.

Alarum. Enter a Soldier crying, a Talbot! a Talbot! they fly, leaving their clothes behind.

Sol. T'LL be fo bold to take what they have left :

I'

The cry of Talbot ferves me for a fword,

For I have loaden me with many spoils,

Ufing no other weapon but his name.

13

[Exit.

Enter

[Retreat.

Enter Talbot, Bedford, and Burgundy.
Bed. The day begins to break, and night is fled,
Whose pitchy mantle over-veil'd the earth.
Here found retreat, and cease our hot pursuit.
Tal. Bring forth the body of old Salisbury,
And here advance it in the market place,
The middle centre of this curfed town.
Now have I pay'd my vow unto his foul:
For ev'ry drop of blood was drawn from him,
There have at least five Frenchmen dy'd to night.
And that hereafter ages may behold

What ruin happen'd in revenge of him,
Within their chiefeft temple I'll erect
A tomb, wherein his corps fhall be interr'd :
Upon the which, that every one may read,
Shall be engrav'd the Sack of Orleans;
The treach'rous manner of his mournful death,
And what a terror he had been to France,
But, lords, in all our bloody massacre,
I mufe, we met not with the Dauphin's Grace,
His new-come champion, virtuous Joan of Arc,
Nor any of his falfe confederates.

Bed. 'Tis thought, lord Talbot, when the fight began, Rous'd on the fudden from their drowsy beds,

They did amongst the troops of armed men
Leap o'er the walls, for refuge in the field.

Bur. My felf, as far as I could well discern
For fmoak and dusky vapours of the night,
Am fure, I fcar'd the Dauphin and his trull:
When, arm in arm, they both came swiftly running,
Like to a pair of loving Turtle Doves,
That could not live afunder day or night.

After that things are fet in order here,

We'll follow them with all the pow'r we have,

Enter a Messenger.

Me. All hail, my lords; which of this princely trâin Call ye the warlike Talbot, for his acts

So much applauded through the realm of France?

Tal.