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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.

[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 TALBOT and Forces, &c.

Flourish. Enter, on the Walls, LA 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, 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. '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 of Memphis ever was:

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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 Denis 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.

SCENE I.-Before Orleans.

Enter to the Gate a French Sergeant and two Sentinels. Serg. Sirs, take your places and be vigilant :

If noise or any

soldier you perceive

Near to the walls, by some apparent sign

Let us have knowledge at the court of guard.

1 Sent. Sergeant, you shall. [Exit Sergeant.] 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,
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

fame,

Despairing of his own arm's fortitude,

To join with witches and the help of hell.

Bur. Traitors have never other company.—

wrongs his

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 English scale the Walls, crying St. George! a Talbot! and all enter the Town.

Sent. Arm! arm! the enemy doth make assault!

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. 'Twas 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.
Bast. Tut! holy Joan was his defensive guard.

Enter CHARLES and LA PUCELLE.

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,

Or will you blame and lay the fault on me?
Improvident soldiers! had your watch been good
This sudden mischief never could have fall'n.

I mean to prove this lady's courtesy.—

Come hither, captain. [Whispers.] You perceive my mind? Capt. I do, my lord, and mean accordingly.

[Exeunt.

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.

Count. The plot is laid: if all things fall out right, I shall as famous be by this exploit

As Scythian Tomyris 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. And he is welcome.

Mess. Madam, it is.

Count.

[Exit.

What! is this the man?

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.

[Going.

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, blood-thirsty 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 the 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.

Tal. I laugh to see your ladyship so fond

To think that you have aught but Talbot's shadow

Whereon to practise your severity.

Count. Why, art not thou the man?
Tal.

Count. Then have I substance too.

I am indeed.

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 't.

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

of 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, arms, 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;

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