Accursed tower! accursed fatal hand,
That hath contriv'd this woeful tragedy!
In thirteen battles Salisbury o'ercame;
Henry the fifth he first train'd to the wars;
Whilst any trump did sound, or drum struck up,
His sword did ne'er leave striking in the field.—
Yet liv'st thou, Salisbury? though thy speech doth

fail,

One eye thou hast, to look to heaven for grace:
The sun with one eye vieweth all the world.—
Heaven, be thou gracious to none alive,
If Salisbury wants mercy at thy hands!-
Bear hence his body, I will help to bury it.-
Sir Thomas Gargrave, hast thou any life?
Speak unto Talbot; nay, look up to him.
Salisbury, cheer thy spirit with this comfort;
Thou shalt not die, whiles-

He beckons with his hand, and smiles on me;
As who should say, When I am dead and gone,
Remember to avenge me on the French.-
Plantagenet, I will; and Nero-like,

Play on the lute, beholding 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.

[SALISBURY groans.

bury; and that he was the first English gentleman that was slain by a cannon-ball,

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 dare. [Exeunt, bearing out the Bodies.

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. Then enter TALBOT.

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,

2 Pucelle or puzzel-] Pussel means a dirty wench or a drab, from puzza, i. e. malus fætor, says Minsheu.

› Blood will I draw on thee,] The superstition of these times taught that he that could draw the witch's blood, was free from her power. JOHNSON.

And straightway give thy soul to him thou serv'st. Puc. Come, come, 'tis only I that must disgrace [They fight.

thee.

Tal. Heavens, can you suffer hell so to prevail? My breast I'll burst with straining of my courage, And from my shoulders crack my arms asunder, But I will chastise this high-minded strumpet.

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,
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.-

by fear, &c.] See Hannibal's stratagem to escape by fixing bundles of lighted twigs on the horns of oxen, recorded in Livy, Lib. XXII. c. xvi.

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 his
Forces, &c.

SCENE VI.

The same.

Enter, on the Walls, PUCELLE, CHARLES, REIGNIER, ALENÇON, and Soldiers.

Puc. Advance our waving colours on the walls; Rescu'd 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 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 they 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, or Memphis', ever was:
In memory of her, when she is dead,
Her ashes, in an urn more precious
Than the rich-jewel'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.

Than Rhodope's,] Rhodope was a famous strumpet, who acquired great riches by her trade. The least, but most finished of the Egyptian pyramids, was built by her. She is said afterwards to have married Psammetichus, King of Egypt. Dr. Johnson thinks that the Dauphin means to call Joan of Arc a strumpet, all the while he is making this loud praise of her.

coffer of Darius,] When Alexander the Great took the city of Gaza, the metropolis of Syria, amidst the other spoils and wealth of Darius treasured up there, he found an exceeding rich and beautiful little chest or casket, and asked those about him what they thought fittest to be laid up in it. When they had severally delivered their opinions, he told them, he esteemed nothing so worthy to be preserved in it, as Homer's Iliad.