Win. Gloster, we'll meet; to thy dear cost, be So great fear of my name 'mongst them was spread,

Play on the lute, benolding the towns burn.
Wretched shall France be only in my name.

[Thunder heard, afterwards an alarum. What stir is this? What tumult 's in the heavens ? Whence cometh this alarum, and the noise?

Enter a Messenger.

Mess. My lord, my lord, the French have gather'd

head:

The dauphin, with one Joan la Pucelle join'd,—
A holy prophetess, new risen up,--

Is come with a great power to raise the siege.

[SAL. groans.

Tal. Hear, hear, how dying Salisbury doth groan!
It irks his heart he cannot be reveng'd.-
Frenchmen, I'll be a Salisbury to you :-
Pucelle or puzzel," dolphin or dogfish,

Your hearts I'll stamp out with my horse's heels,
And make a quagmire of your mingled brains.
Convey me Salisbury into his tent,

And then we 'll try what these dastard Frenchmen

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 alarm
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.

[Alarum. Another skirmish
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 spite 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 TAL. and his Forces, &c.
SCENE VI.-The same.

dare. [Exeunt, bearing out the bodies. Enter, on the walls, PUCELLE, CHARLES, Reignier,

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. enter TALBOT.

Then

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,b
And straightway give thy soul to him thou serv'st.
Puc. Come, come, 't is only I that must disgrace
[They fight.
Tal. Heavens, can you suffer hell so to prevail?
My breast I'll burst with straining of my courage,
And from my shoulders crack ny arms asunder,
But I will chastise this high-minded strumpet.

thee.

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,

SCENE I.-Orleans.

ALENGON, and Soldiers.

Puc. Advance our waving colours on the walls;
Rescued is Orleans from the English wolves:-
Thus Joan la Pucelle hath perform`d her word.

Char. Divinest creature, bright Astræa'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!—
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,
To 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. "T is 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
Than the rich jewell'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,

ACT II

1 Sent. Sergeant, you shall. [Exit Sergear t.] 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, and redoubted Burgundy.By whose approach, the regions of Artois,

We should probably read,

"Than Rhodope's, of Memphis."

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!-how much he wrongs his
fame,

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.

Reig.
And so was mine, my lord
Char. And, for myself, most part of all this night,
Within her quarter, and mine own precinct,
I was employ'd in passing to and fro,
About relieving of the sentinels:

Then how, or which way, should they first break in?
Puc. Question, my lords, no further of the case,
How, or which way; 't is sure, they found some place
But weakly guarded, where the breach was made.
And now there rests no other shift but this,-
To gather our soldiers, scatter'd and dispers'd,
And lay new platforms to endamage them.
Alarum. Enter an English Soldier, crying A Talbot
A Talbot! They fly, leaving their clothes behind.
Sold. I'll be so bold to take what they have left.
The cry of Talbot serves me for a sword;

Tal. Well, let them practise and converse with For I have loaden me with many spoils,

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.

Using no other weapon but his name.

[Exi!.

SCENE II.-Orleans. Within the Town. Enter TALBOT, BEDFORD, BURGUNDY, a Captain, and others.

Bed. The day begins to break, and night is fled,
Whose pitchy mantle over-veil'd the earth.
Here sound retreat, and cease our hot pursuit.

[Retreat sounded Tal. Bring forth the body of old Salisbury;

Tal. And here will Talbot mount, or make his And here advance it in the market-place,

The French leap over the walls in their shirts. Enter,
several ways, BASTARD, ALENÇON, REIGNIER, half
ready, and half unready.

Alen. How now, my lords? what, all unready" so?
Bast. Unready? ay, and glad we 'scap'd so well.
Reig. T was time, I trow, to wake and leave our
beds,

Hearing alarums at our chamber doors.

Alen. Of all exploits, since first I follow'd arms,
Ne'er heard I of a warlike enterprise
More venturous or desperate than this.

Bast. I think this Talbot be a fiend of hell.
Reig. If not of hell, the heavens sure favour him.
Alen. Here cometh Charles; I marvel how he
sped.

Enter CHARLES and LA PUcelle.

Bast. Tut! holy Joan was his defensive guard.
Char. Is this thy cunning, thou deceitful dame?
Didst thou at first, to flatter us withal,
Make us partakers of a little gain,

That now our loss might be ten times so much?
Puc. Wherefore is Charles impatient with his friend?
At all times will you have my power alike?
Sleeping, or waking, must I still prevail,
O: will you blame and lay the fault on me?
Improvident soldiers! had your watch been good,
This sudden mischief never could have fall'n.
Char. Duke of Alençon, this was your default;
That, being captain of the watch to-night,
Did look no better to that weighty charge.

Alen. Had all your quarters been as safely kep
As that whereof I had the government,
We had not been thus shamefully surpris'd.
Bast. Mine was secure.

• Unready-undressed.

The middle centre of this cursed town.
Now have I paid my vow unto his soul;
For every drop of blood was drawn from him,
There hath at least five Frenchmen died to-night.
And, that hereafter ages may behold
What ruin happen'd in revenge of him,
Within their chiefest temple I'll erect
A tomb, wherein his corpse shall be interr'd :
Upon the which, that every one may read,
Shall be engrav'd the sack of Orleans;
The treacherous manner of his mournful death,
And what a terror he had been to France.
But, lords, in all our bloody massacre,

I muse we met not with the dauphin's grace,
His new-come champion, virtuous Joan of Arc,
Nor any of his false confederates.

Bed. "T is thought, lord Talbot, when the fight began.
Rous'd on the sudden from their drowsy beds,
They did, amongst the troops of armed men,
Leap o'er the walls for refuge in the field.

Bur. Myself (as far as I could well discern,
For smoke, and dusky vapours of the night)
Am sure I scar'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 asunder day or night.
After that things are set in order here,

We'll follow them with all the power we have.

Enter a Messenger.

Mess. All hail, my lords! which of this princely tram
Call ye the warlike Talbot, for his acts

So much applauded through the realm of France?
Tal. Here is the Talbot; who would speak with him?
Mess. The virtuous lady, countess of Auvergne,
With modesty admiring thy renown,
By me entreats, great lord, thou wouldst vouchsafe
To visit her poor castle where she lies; b
That she may boast she hath beheld the man
Whose glory fills the world with loud report.

Bur. Is it even so? Nay, then, I see our wars
Will turn unto a peaceful comic sport,
When ladies crave to be encounter'd with.
You may not, my lord, despise her gentle suit.
Platforms-plans.
Lies-dwels.

Tal. Ne'er trust me then; for, when a world of men
Could not prevail with all their oratory,
Yet hath a woman's kindness over-rul'd:
And therefore tell her, I return great thanks;
And in submission will attend on her.
Will not your honours bear me company?

Bed. No, truly; it is more than manners will:
And I have heard it said,-Unbidden guests
Are often welcomest when they are gone.

Tal. Well, then, alone (since there's no remedy)
I mean to prove this lady's courtesy.
Come hither, captain. [Whispers.]-You perceive a y

mind.

Capt. I do, my lord; and mean accordingly. [Ex.

SCENE III.-Auvergne.

Court of the Castle.

Enter the COUNTESS and her Porter.

Count. Porter, remember what I gave in charge; And when you have done so, bring the keys to me. Port. Madam, I will.

[Exi.

Count. The plot is laid: if all things fall out right,
I shall as famous be by this exploit
As Scythian Thomyris by Cyrus' death.
Great is the rumour of this dreadful knight,
And his achievements of no less account :

Fain would mine eyes be witness with mine ears,
To give their censure" of these rare reports.

Enter Messenger and TALBOT.

Mess. Madam,

According as your ladyship desir'd,

By message crav'd, so is lord Talbot come.

Count. Then have I substance too.
Tal. No, no, I am but shadow of myself:
You are deceiv'd, my substance is not here;
For what you see is but the smallest part
And least proportion of humanity:

I tell you, madam, were the whole frame here,
It is of such a spacious lofty pitch,

Your roof were not sufficient to contain it.
Count. This is a riddling merchant for the nonce
He will be here, and yet he is not here:
How can these contrarieties agree?

Tal. That will I show you presently.

He winds a horn. Drums heard; then a Peal
Ordnance. The Gates being forced, enter Soldiers.
How say you, madam? are you now persuaded
That Talbot is but shadow of himself?
These are his substance, sinews, ains, and strength,
With which he yoketh your rebellious necks;
Razeth your cities, and subverts your towns,
And in a moment makes them desolate.

Count. Victorious Talbot! pardon my abuse:
I find thou art no less than fame hath bruited,
And more than may be gather'd by thy shape.
Let my presumption not provoke thy wrath;
For I am sorry, that with reverence

I did not entertain thee as thou art.

Tal. Be not dismay'd, fair lady; nor misconster
The mind of Talbot, as you did mistake
The outward composition of his body.
What you have done hath not offended me:

Count. And he is welcome. What! is this the man? Nor other satisfaction do I crave,
Mess. Madam, it is.
Count.
Is this the scourge of France?
Is this the Talbot, so much fear'd abroad,
That with his name the mothers still their babes?
I see report is fabulous and false:

I thought I should have seen some Hercules,
A second Hector, for his grim aspect,

And large proportion of his strong-knit limbs.
Alas! this is a child, a silly dwarf:

It cannot be this weak and writhled shrimp
Should strike such terror to his enemies.

Tal. Madam, I have been bold to trouble you:
But since your ladyship is not at leisure,
I'll sort some other time to visit you.
Count. What means he now ?-Go ask him whither

he goes.

Mess. Stay, my lord Talbot; for my lady craves
To know the cause of your abrupt departure.
Tal. Marry, for that she 's in a wrong belief,
I go to certify her Talbot 's here.

Re-enter Porter, with keys.

Count. If thou be he, then art thou prisoner.
Tal. Prisoner! to whom?

Count.
To me, bloodthirsty lord;
And for that cause I train'd thee to my house.
Long time thy shadow hath been thrall to me,
For in my gallery thy picture hangs :
But now thy substance shall endure the like;
And I will chain these legs and arms of thine,
That hast by tyranny, these many years,
Wasted our country, slain our citizens,
And sent our sons and husbands captivate.
Tal. Ha, ha, ha!

Count. Laughest thou, wretch? thy mirth shall turn

to moan.

But only (with your patience) that we may
Taste of your wine, and see what cates you have;
For soldiers' stomachs always serve them well.
Count. With all my heart; and think me honoured
To feast so great a warrior in my house.
[Exeunt

SCENE IV.-London. The Temple Garden.
Enter the Earls of SOMERSET, SUFFOLK, and WAR-
WICK; RICHARD PLANTAGENET, VERNON, and an-
other Lawyer.

Plan. Great lords, and gentlemen, what means th's

silence?

Dare no man answer in a case of truth?

Suf. Within the Temple hall we were too loud;
The garden here is more convenient.

Plan. Then say at once, If I maintain the truth;
Or, else, was wrangling Somerset in the error?
Suf. Faith, I have been a truant in the law;
And never yet could frame my will to it;
And, therefore, frame the law unto my will.
Som. Judge you, my lord of Warwick, then be-

tween us.

War. Between two hawks, which flies the higher pitch,
Between two dogs, which hath the deeper mouth,
Between two blades, which bears the better temper,
Between two horses, which doth bear him best,
Between two girls, which hath the merriest eye,
I have, perhaps, some shallow spirit of judgment:
But in these nice sharp quillets of the law,
Good faith, I am no wiser than a daw.
Plan. Tut, tut, here is a mannerly forbearance:
The truth appears so naked on my side,
That any purblind eye may find it out.

Som. And on my side it is so well apparell'd,
So clear, so shining, and so evident,
That it will glimmer through a blind man s eye.
Plan. Since you are tongue-tied, and so loth t

speak,

In dumb significants proclaim your thoughts: