Great Cœurdelion's Heart was buried;

So fure I fwear to get the Town or die.

Burg. My Vows are equal partners with thy Vows Tal. But ere we go, regard this dying Prince; The valiant Duke of Bedford: Come, my Lord, We will beftow you in fome better place, Fitter for Sickness, 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 or Wo.
Burg. Couragious Bedford, let us now perfuade your
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 Soldiers Hearts,
Because I ever found them as my felf.

Tal. Undaunted Spirit in a dying Breaft,
Then be it fo: Heavens keep old Bedford fafc.
And now no more ado, brave Burgundy,
But gather we our Forces out of hand,
And fer upon our boafting Enemy.

[Exiti

An Alarm: Excursions: Enter Sir John Falftaff, and a Captain.

Cap. Whither away, Sir John Falstaff, in fuch hafte? Fal. Whither away? to fave my felf by flight, We are like to have the Overthrow again.

Cap. What! will you fly, and leave Lord Talbot? Fal. Ay, all the Talbots in the World to fave my Life. [Exit. Cap. Cowardly Knight, ill Fortune follow thee. [Exit.. Retreat: Excurfions. Pucelle, Alenfon, and Dauphin fly Bed. Now, quiet Soul, depart when Heaven please, For I have feen our Enemies overthrow. What is the truft or strength of foolish Man? They that of late were daring with their Scoffs, Are glad and fain by flight to fave themselves.

[Dies, and is carried off in his Chair An Alarm: Enter Talbot, Burgundy, and the raft. Tal. Loft, and recovered in a day again,

This is a double Honour, Burgundy;

K 3

Yet

Yet Heavens 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? I think her old Familiar is afleep.

Now where's the Baftard's braves, and Charles his glikas What, all amort? Roan hangs her Head for Grief,

That such a valiant Company are fled.

Now we will take fome Order in the Town,
Placing therein fome expert Officers,

And then depart to Paris to the King.

For there young Henry with his Nobles lye.

Burg. What wills Lord Talbot, pleaseth Burgundy.
Tal. But yet before we go, let's not forget
The Noble Duke of Bedford, late deceas'd,
But fee his Exequies fulfill'd in Roan.
A braver Soldier never couched Launce,
A gentler Heart did never fway in Court.
But Kings and mightiaft Potentates must die,
For that's the end of Human Mifery.

SCENE HI.

[Exeunt.

Enter Dauphin, Baftard, Alenfon, and Joan la Pucelle.

Pucel. Difmay not, Princes, at this Accident,
Nor grieve that Roan is fo recovered.

Care is no cure, but rather corrofive,
For things that are not to be remedy'd.
Let frantick Talbot triumph for a while,
And like a Peacock sweep along his Tail,
We'll pull his Plumes, and take away his Train,
If Dauphin and the rest will be but rul'd.

Dau. We have been guided by thee hitherto,
And of thy Cunning had no diffidence.
One fudden Foil fhall never breed diftruft.
Baft. Search out thy Wit for fecret Policies,
And we will make thee famous through the World.
Alen. We'll fet thy Statue in fome Holy Place,

And have thee reverenc'd like a bleffed Saint.

Employ

Employ thee then, fweet Virgin, for our good.
Pucel. Then thus it must be, this doth Foan devife:
By fair Perfuafions, mixt with fugar'd Words,
We will entice the Duke of Burgundy

To leave the Talbot, and to follow us.

Dau. Ay, marry, Sweeting, if we could do that,
France were no place for Henry's Warriors;
Nor fhall that Nation boaft it fo with us,
But be extirped from our Provinces.

Alen. For ever fhould they be expuls'd from France,
And not have Title of an Earldom here.

Pucel. Your Honours fhall perceive how I will work, To bring this matter to the wifhed end.

[Drum beats afar off. Hark, by the found of Drum you may perceive Their Powers are marching unto Paris ward.

[Here beat an English March. There goes the Talbot with his Colours fpread, And all the Troops of English after him. [French March. Now in the Rereward comes the Duke and his: Fortune in favour makes him lag behind. Summon a Parley, we will talk with him.

[Trumpets found a Parley. Enter the Duke of Burgundy marching.

Dau. A Parley with the Duke of Burgundy..
Burg. Who craves a Parley with the Burgundy?
Pucel. The Princely Charles of France, thy Country”

man.

Burg. What fay'ft thou, Charles? for I am marching

hence.

Dau. Speak, Pucelle, and enchant him with thy Words. Pucel. Brave Burgundy, undoubted hope of France, Stay, let thy humble Hand-maid speak to thee. Burg. Speak on, but be not over-tedious. Pucel. Look on thy Country, look on fertile France, And fee the Cities and the Towns defac'd,

By wafting Ruin of the cruel Foe,

As looks the Mother on her lowly Babe,
When Death doth close his tender-dying Eyes;
See, fee the pining Malady of France:

ΚΑ

Behold

Behold the Wounds, the most unnatural Wounds,
Which thou thy felf haft given her woful Breast.
Oh, turn thy edged Sword another way,

Strike thofe that hurt, and hurt not thofe that help:
One drop of Blood drawn from thy Country's Bosom,
Should grieve thee more than streams of common Gore;
Return thee therefore with a flood of Tears,
And wash away thy Country's ftained Spots.

Burg. Either fhe hath bewitch'd me with her Words, Or Nature makes me fuddenly relent.

Pucel. Befides, all French and France exclaims on thee Doubting thy Birth and lawful Progeny.

Whom join'ft thou with, but with a Lordly Nation,
That will not truft thee but for Profits fake?
When Talbot hath set footing once in France,
And fashion'd thee that Inftrument of Ill,
Who then but English Henry will be Lord,
And thou be thruft out like a Fugitive?
Call we to mind, and mark but this for proof;
Was not the Duke of Orleans thy Foe?
And was he not in England Prisoner?
But when they heard he was thine Enemy,
They fet him free, without his Ransom paid,
In fpight of Burgundy and all his Friends.
See then, thou fight'ft against thy Countrymen,
And join'ft with them will be thy Slaughter-men.
Come, come, return, return thou wandring Lord,
Charles and the reft will take thee in their Arms.
Burg. I am vanquifhed. Thefe haughty Words of hers
Have batter'd me like roaring Cannon-fhot,
And made me almost yield upon my Knees.
Forgive me Country, and fweet Countrymen;
And, Lords, accept this hearty kind Embrace.
My Forces, and my Power of Men are yours.
So farewel Talbot, I'll no longer trust thee.

Pucel. Done like a Frenchman: Turn, and turn again. Day. Welcome, brave Duke, thy Friendship makes us fresh.

Baft. And doth beget new Courage in our Breasts.
Alen. Pucelle hath bravely play'd her part in this,

And

And doth deferve a Coronet of Gold.

Dan. Now let us on, my Lords, and join our Powers, And feck how we may prejudice the Foc.

SCENE IV.

[Exit.

Enter King Henry, Gloucefter, Winchefter, York, Suffolk, So-
merfet, Warwick, Exeter: To them Talbot with his Soldiers.
Tal. My gracious Prince, and honourable Peers,
Hearing of your arrival in this Realm,

I have a while given Truce unto my Wars,

To do my Duty to my Sovereign.

In fign whereof, this Arm, that hath reclaim'd

Το your obedience, fifty Fortreffes,

Twelve Cities, and feven walled Towns of strength,
Befide five hundred Prisoners of Efteem;

Lets fall his Sword before your Highness Feet:
And with fubmiffive Loyalty of Heart
Afcribes the Glory of his Conqueft got,

Firft to my God, and next unto your Grace.

K. Henry. Is this the fam'd Lord Talbot, Uncle Glofter, That hath fo long been Refident in France?

Glo. Yes, if it please your Majefty, my Liege.

K. Henry, Welcome, brave Captain, and victorious Lord. When I was young (as yet I am not old)

I do remember how my Father faid,
A ftouter Champion never handled Sword.
Long fince we were refolved of your Truth,
Your faithful Service, and your toil in War:
Yet never have you tafted our Reward,
Or been reguerdon'd with fo much as Thanks,
Becaufe 'till now we never faw your Face;
Therefore ftand up, and for thefe good deferts,
We here create you Earl of Shrewsbury,

And in our Coronation take

your place.

Manent Vernon and Baffet.

Ver. Now, Sir, to you that were so hot at Sea, Difgracing of thefe Colours that I wear,

In honour of my Noble Lord of York,

[Exeunt

Dar't thou maintain the former Words thou spak'st?

Baf.