Retiring from the siege of Orleans,
Having full scarce six thousand in his troop,
By three-and-twenty thousand of the French
Was round encompassed and set upon.
No leisure had he to enrank his men;
He wanted pikes to set before his archers;
Instead whereof, sharp stakes, plucked out of hedges,
They pitched in the ground confusedly,

To keep the horsemen off from breaking in.
More than three hours the fight continued;
Where valiant Talbot, above human thought,
Enacted wonders with his sword and lance.

Hundreds he sent to hell, and none durst stand him;
Here, there, and every where, enraged, he slew.
The French exclaimed, the devil was in arms;
All the whole army stood agazed on him:
His soldiers, spying his undaunted spirit,
A Talbot! a Talbot! cried out amain,
And rushed into the bowels of the battle.
Here had the conquest fully been sealed up,
If sir John Fastolfe had not played the coward;
He, being in the vaward, (placed behind,
With purpose to relieve and follow them,)
Cowardly fled, not having struck one stroke.
Hence grew the general wreck and massacre;
Inclosed were they with their enemies.

A base Walloon, to win the dauphin's grace,
Thrust Talbot with a spear into the back;

Whom all France, with their chief assembled strength,
Durst not presume to look once in the face.

Bed. Is Talbot slain? then I will slay myself,
For living idly here, in pomp and ease,
Whilst such a worthy leader, wanting aid,
Unto his dastard foeman is betrayed.

3 Mess. O, no; he lives; but is took prisoner, And lord Scales with him, and lord Hungerford; Most of the rest slaughtered, or took, likewise.

Bed. His ransom there is none but I shall pay.
I'll hale the dauphin headlong from his throne;
His crown shall be the ransom of my friend;
Four of their lords I'll change for one of ours.
Farewell, my masters; to my task will I;
Bonfires in France forthwith I am to make,
To keep our great saint George's feast withal.
Ten thousand soldiers with me I will take,
Whose bloody deeds shall make all Europe quake.

3 Mess. So you had need; for Orleans is besieged; The English army is grown weak and faint; The earl of Salisbury craveth supply,

And hardly keeps his men from mutiny,

Since they, so few, watch such a multitude.

Exe. Remember, lords, your oaths to Henry sworn,

Either to quell the dauphin utterly,

Or bring him in obedience to your yoke.

Bed. I do remember it; and here take leave,

To go about my preparation.

[Exit.

Glo. I'll to the Tower, with all the haste I can,

To view the artillery and munition;

And then I will proclaim young Henry king.

[Exit.

Exe. To Eltham will I, where the young king is, Being ordained his special governor;

And for his safety there I'll best devise.

[Exit.

Win. Each hath his place and function to attend; I am left out; for me nothing remains. But long I will not be Jack-out-of-office; The king from Eltham I intend to steal, And sit at chiefest stern of public weal.

[Exit. Scene closes.

SCENE II. France. Before Orleans.

Enter CHARLES, with his Forces; ALENÇON, REIGNIER, and others.

Char. Mars his true moving, even as in the heavens, So in the earth, to this day is not known.

Late did he shine upon the English side;
Now we are victors, upon us he smiles.
What towns of any moment, but we have?
At pleasure here we lie, near Orleans;

Otherwhiles, the famished English, like pale ghosts,
Faintly besiege us one hour in a month.

Alen. They want their porridge, and their fat bull-beeves.

Either they must be dieted like mules,

And have their provender tied to their mouths,

Or piteous they will look, like drowned mice.

Reig. Let's raise the siege; why live we idly here? Talbot is taken, whom we wont to fear.

Remaineth none but mad-brained Salisbury;
And he may well in fretting spend his gall;
Nor men, nor money, hath he to make war.

Char. Sound, sound alarum; we will rush on them.

Now for the honor of the forlorn French.-
Him I forgive my death, that killeth me,
When he sees me go back one foot, or fly.

[Exeunt.

Alarums; Excursions; afterwards a Retreat. Re-enter CHARLES, ALENÇON, REIGNIER, and others. Char. Who ever saw the like? what men have I? Dogs! cowards! dastards!-I would ne'er have fled, But that they left me 'midst my enemies.

Reig. Salisbury is a desperate homicide;

He fighteth as one weary of his life.
The other lords, like lions wanting food,
Do rush upon us as their hungry prey.

Alen. Froissard, a countryman of ours, records,
England all Olivers and Rowlands bred,
During the time Edward the Third did reign.
More truly now may this be verified;
For none but Samsons and Goliasses

It sendeth forth to skirmish. One to ten!

Lean, raw-boned rascals! who would e'er suppose

They had such courage and audacity?

Char. Let's leave this town; for they are hair-brained slaves,

And hunger will enforce them to be more eager.
Of old I know them; rather with their teeth
The walls they'll tear down, than forsake the siege.
Reig. I think, by some odd gimmals or device,
Their arms are set, like clocks, still to strike on:
Else ne'er could they hold out so as they do.
By my consent, we'll e'en let them alone.
Alen. Be it so.

Enter the Bastard of Orleans.

Bast. Where's the prince dauphin? I have news for him. Char. Bastard of Orleans, thrice welcome to us. Bast. Methinks your looks are sad, your cheer appalled. Hath the late overthrow wrought this offence?

Be not dismayed, for succor is at hand.

A holy maid hither with me I bring,

Which, by a vision sent to her from Heaven,
Ordained is to raise this tedious siege,

And drive the English forth the bounds of France.
The spirit of deep prophecy she hath,
Exceeding the nine sibyls of old Rome;

What's past, and what's to come, she can descry.

Speak; shall I call her in? Believe my words.
For they are certain and infallible.

Char. Go, call her in. [Exit Bastard.] But, first, to try her skill,

--

Reignier, stand thou as dauphin in my place.
Question her proudly; let thy looks be stern.-
By this mean shall we sound what skill she hath. [Retires.
Enter LA PUCELLE, Bastard of Orleans, and others.
Reig. Fair maid, is't thou wilt do these wondrous feats?
Puc. Reignier, is't thou that thinkest to beguile me?
Where is the dauphin? - Come, come from behind;
I know thee well, though never seen before.
Be not amazed; there's nothing hid from me:

In private will I talk with thee apart.

Stand back, you lords, and give us leave awhile.
Reig. She takes upon her bravely at first dash.

Puc. Dauphin, I am by birth a shepherd's daughter; My wit untrained in any kind of art.

Heaven, and our Lady gracious, hath it pleased
To shine on my contemptible estate.

Lo, whilst I waited on my tender lambs,
And to sun's parching heat displayed my cheeks,
God's mother deigned to appear to me;
And, in a vision full of majesty,
Willed me to leave my base vocation,
And free my country from calamity.
Her aid she promised, and assured success:
In cómplete glory she revealed herself;
And, whereas I was black and swart before,
With those clear rays which she infused on me,
That beauty am I blessed with, which you see.
Ask me what question thou canst possible,
And I will answer unpremeditated;
My courage try by combat, if thou dar'st,
And thou shalt find that I exceed my sex.
Resolve on this: thou shalt be fortunate,
If thou receive me for thy warlike mate.

Char. Thou hast astonished me with thy high terms; Only this proof I'll of thy valor make.

In single combat thou shalt buckle with me;
And, if thou vanquishest, thy words are true;
Otherwise, I renounce all confidence.

Puc. I am prepared; here is my keen-edged sword, Decked with five flower-de-luces on each side;

The which at Touraine, in Saint Katharine's churchyard, Out of a great deal of old iron I chose forth.

Char. Then come, o' God's name; I fear no woman. Puc. And, while I live, I'll ne'er fly from a man. [They fight. Char. Stay, stay thy hands; thou art an Amazon, And fightest with the sword of Deborah.

Puc. Christ's mother helps me, else I were too weak. Char. Whoe'er helps thee, 'tis thou that must help me. Impatiently I burn with thy desire;

My heart and hands thou hast at once subdued.
Excellent Pucelle, if thy name be so,

Let me thy servant, and not sovereign, be;
'Tis the French dauphin sueth thus to thee.
Puc. I must not yield to any rites of love,
For my profession's sacred from above:
When I have chased all thy foes from hence,
Then will I think upon a recompense.

Char. Mean time, look gracious on thy prostrate thrall.
Reig. My lord, methinks, is very long in talk.
Alen. Doubtless he shrives this woman to her smock;
Else ne'er could he so long protract his speech.

Reig. Shall we disturb him, since he keeps no mean? Alen. He may mean more than we poor men do know: These women are shrewd tempters with their tongues. Reig. My lord, where are you? what devise you on? Shall we give over Orleans, or no?

Puc. Why, no, I say, distrustful recreants! Fight till the last gasp; I will be your guard.

Char. What she says, I'll confirm; we'll fight it out. Puc. Assigned am I to be the English scourge.

This night the siege assuredly I'll raise:

Expect saint Martin's summer, halcyon days,
Since I have entered into these wars.

Glory is like a circle in the water,
Which never ceaseth to enlarge itself,

Till, by broad spreading, it disperse to nought.
With Henry's death, the English circle ends:
Dispersed are the glories it included.

Now am I like that proud, insulting ship,
Which Cæsar and his fortune bare at once.
Char. Was Mahomet inspired with a dove?

Thou with an eagle art inspired then.
Helen, the mother of great Constantine,
Nor yet saint Philip's daughters, were like thee.