Shall, in procession, sing her endless praise. After this golden day of victory. [Flourish. Exeunt. ACT II. SCENE I. The same. Enter, to the gates, a French Sergeant, and two Sentinels. Serg. Sirs, take your places, and be vigilant. If any noise or 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) Constrained to watch in darkness, rain, and cold. 1 The old copy reads: "Than Rhodophe's or Memphis ever was.” Rhodope, or Rhodopis, a celebrated courtesan, who was a slave in the same service with sop, at Samos. 2 "In what price the noble poems of Homer were holden by Alexander the Great, insomuch that everie night they were layd under his pillow, and by day were carried in the rich jewel coffer of Darius, lately before vanquished by him.”—Puttenham's Arte of Englishe Poesie, 1589. Enter TALBOT, BEDFORD, BURGUNDY, and Forces, with scaling-ladders; their drums beating a dead march. Tal. Lord regent, and redoubted Burgundy,- As fitting best to quittance their deceit, 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? 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 armor 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 [The English scale the Walls, crying St. George! Sent. [Within.] 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 unready1 so? Bast. Unready? ay, and glad we 'scaped 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 followed arms, Never 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, favor 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? Alen. Had all your quarters been as safely kept, 1 Unready is undressed. Bast. Mine was secure. 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 employed in passing to and fro, About relieving of the sentinels. Then how, or which way, should they first break in? Alarum. Enter an English Soldier, crying A Talbot! Sold. I'll be so bold to take what they have left. SCENE II. Orleans. Within the Town. [Exit. Enter TALBOT, BEDFORD, BURGUNDY, a Captain, and others. Bed. The day begins to break, and night is fled, Whose pitchy mantle over-veiled the earth. Here sound retreat, and cease our hot pursuit. [Retreat sounded. Tal. Bring forth the body of old Salisbury; 1 Plans, schemes. And, that hereafter ages may behold A tomb, wherein his corpse shall be interred; The treacherous manner of his mournful death, I muse, we met not with the dauphin's grace; Bed. 'Tis thought, lord Talbot, when the fight began, Roused on the sudden from their drowsy beds, Bur. Myself (as far as I could well discern, 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 train 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, By me entreats, good lord, thou wouldst vouchsafe 1 i. e. where she dwells. |