Enter Joan la Pucelle difguis'd, and four Soldiers with Sacks upon their backs.

Pucel.

T

Hefe are the city gates, the gates of Roan, Thro' which our policy muft make a breach, Take heed, be wary, how you place your words, Talk like the vulgar fort of market-men, That come to gather money for their corn. If we have entrance (as I hope we shall) And that we find the flothful Watch but weak, I'll by a fign give notice to our friends, That Charles the Dauphin may encounter them. Sol. Our facks fhall be a mean to fack the city, And we be Lords and rulers over Roan;

Therefore we'll knock.

Watch. Qui va là?

Pucel, Paifans, pauvres gens de France.

[Knocks.

Poor market-folks, that come to fell their corn. Watch. Enter, go in, the market-bell is rung. Pucel. Now, Roan, I'll shake thy bulwarks to the ground.

Encer Dauphin, Baftard, and Alanfon.

Dau. St. Dennis blefs this happy ftratagem! And once again we'll fleep fecure in Roan.

Baft. Here enter'd Pucelle, and her practisants 7. Now fhe is there, how will fhe specify Where is the beft and fafeft paffage in?

Reig. By thrulling out a torch from yonder tow'r,

7-practifants.] Practice, fofter fenfe ftratagem, Prai in the language of that time, fants are therefore confederates in was treachery, and perhaps in the Stratagem.

Which, once difcern'd, fhews that her meaning is,
No way to that for weakness which fhe enter'd.

Enter Joan la Pucelle on the top, thrusting out a torch burning.

Pucel. Behold, this is the happy wedding torch, That joineth Roan unto her countrymen; But burning fatal to the Talbotites.

Baft. See, noble Charles, the beacon of our friend, The burning torch, in yonder turret stands.

Dau. Now fhines it like a comet of revenge,

A prophet to the fall of all our foes.

Reig. Defer no time, delays have dangerous ends; Enter and cry, the Dauphin! presently,

And then do execution on the Watch.

[An Alarm; Talbot in an Excurfion. Tal. France, thou fhalt rue this treafon with thy tears, If Talbot but furvive thy treachery.

Pucelle, that witch, that damned forcerefs,
Hath wrought this hellifh mifchief unawares,
That hardly we escap'd the pride of France 9.

No way to that-] That is, no way equal to that, no way fo fit as that.

• That hardly we efcap'd the pride of France.] Pride fignifies the haughty power. The fame fpeaker fays afterwards, Act 4. Scene 6.

And from the pride of Gallia refcu'd thee.

[Exit.

One would think this plain enough. But what won't a puzzling critic obfcure! Mr. Theobald fays, Pride of France is an abfurd and unmeaning expreffion, and therefore alters it to Prize of France; and in this is fol lowed by the Oxford Editor.

WARBURTON.

SCENE

SCENE V.

An alarm: Excurfions. Bedford brought in, fick, in a chair. Enter Talbot and Burgundy, without; within, Joan la Pucelle, Dauphin, Baftard, and Alanfon, on the walls.

Pucel. Good morrow, gallants, want ye corn for bread?

I think, the Duke of Burgundy will faft,
Before he'll buy again at such a rate.

'Twas full of darnel; do you like the tafte?

Burg. Scoff on, vile fiend, and fhameless courtizan! I truft, ere long, to choak thee with thine own, And make thee curfe the harvest of that corn.

Dau. Your Grace may ftarve, perhaps, before that

time.

Bed. Oh let not words, but deeds, revenge this treafon !

Pucel. What will you do, good grey-beard? break a lance,

And run a tilt at death within a chair?

Tal. Foul fiend of France, and hag of all defpight, Incompafs'd with thy lufty paramours, Becomes it thee to taunt his valiant age, And twit with cowardife a man half dead? Damfel, I'll have a bout with you again, Or else let Talbot perish with his fhame. Pucel. Are you fo hot? yet, Pucelle, hold thy Peace; If Talbot do but thunder, rain will follow.

[Talbot and the rest whisper together in council. God fpeed the parliament! who fhall be the fpeaker? Tal. Dare ye come forth, and meet us in the field! Pucel. Belike, your Lordship takes us then for fools,

Alanfon Sir T. Hanmer has replaced here, inftead of Reig

nier, because Alanfon, not Reignier, appears in the enfuing scene.

Το

To try if that our own be ours, or no.
Tal. I fpeak to not that railing Hecate,
But unto thee, Alanson, and the rest.

Will ye, like foldiers, come and fight it out?
Alan. Seignior, no.

Tal. Seignior, hang. Bafe muleteers of France! Like peafant foot boys do they keep the walls, And dare not take up arms like gentlemen.

Pucel. Captains, away; let's get us from the walls, For Talbot means no goodness by his looks.

God be wi' you, my Lord: we came, Sir, but to tell you
That we are here.
[Exeunt from the walls.
Tal. And there will we be too, ere it be long,
Or elfe reproach be Talbot's greatest fame!
Vow, Burgundy, by honour of thy House,
Prick'd on by publick wrongs fuftain'd in France,
Either to get the town again, or die.
And I, as fure as English Henry lives,
And as his father here was Conqueror,
As fure as in this late-betrayed town
Great Cœurdelion's heart was buried,
So fure I fwear, to get the town, or die.

Burg. My vows are equal patners with thy vows.
Tal. But ere we go, regard this dying Prince,
The valiant Duke of Bedford. Come, my Lord,
We will bestow you in fome better place:
Fitter for fickness, and for crazy age.

Bed. Lord Talbot, do not fo difhonour me: Here I will fit before the walls of Roan,

And will be partner of your weal and woe.

Burg. Couragious Bedford, let us now persuade you. Bed. Not to be gone from hence; for once I read,

That ftout Pendragon, in his litter fick,

Came to the field, and vanquished his foes.
Methinks, I fhould revive the foldiers' hearts;
Because I ever found them as myself.

Tal. Undaunted spirit in a dying breast!
Then be it fo. Heav'ns keep old Bedford safe!

And

And now no more ado, brave Burgundy,
But gather we our forces out of hand,
And let upon our boafting enemy.

[Exit.

An Alarm: excurfions. Enter Sir John Faftolfe, and a Captain.

Cap. Whither away, Sir John Faftolfe, in fuch hafte? Faft. Whither away? to fave myself by flight, We are like to have the overthrow again.

Cap. What will you fly, and leave Lord Talbot? Faft. Ay, all the Talbots in the world to fave my

life.

[Exit.

Cap. Cowardly Knight, ill-fortune follow thee!

[Exit.

Retreat: excurfions. Pucelle, Alanfon, and Dauphin fly.

Bed. Now, quiet foul, depart, when heav'n fhal! please,

For I have feen our enemies' overthrow.
What is the truft or ftrength of foolish man?
They, that of late were daring with their fcoffs,
Are glad and fain by flight to fave themselves.

[Dies, and is carried off in his chair.

An Alarm: Enter Talbot, Burgundy, and the rest.

Tal.

L

OST and recover'd in a day again?
This is a double honour, Burgundy;
Yet, heav'ns have glory for this victory!
Burg. Warlike and martial Talbot, Burgundy
Infhrines thee in his heart; and there erects
Thy noble deeds, as Valour's monuments.

Tal. Thanks, gentle Duke. But where is Pucelle now?

4

I think,