SCENE V. The Same.

Here an alarum again; and TALBOT pursueth the DAUPHIN, and driveth him: then enter JOAN LA PUCELLE, driving Englishmen before her, and exit after them: then re-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.

Re-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,—
And straightway give thy soul to him thou servest.
Puc. Come, come, 't is only I that must disgrace
[Here 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.
[They fight again.

I must go victual Orleans forthwith.

[A short alarum: then enter the town with

soldiers.

O'ertake me, if thou canst; I scorn thy strength.
Go, go, cheer up thy hunger-starvéd men;
Help Salisbury to make his testament:
This day is ours, as many more shall be.

[Exit.

Tal. My thoughts are whirléd 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 called 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-subduéd slaves.

[Alarum. Here 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 entered 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.
[Exit TALBOT. Alarum; retreat; flourish.

SCENE VI.-The Same.

Enter, on the walls, LA PUCELLE, CHARLES,
REIGNIER, ALENÇON, and Soldiers.

Puc. Advance our waving colours on the walls; Rescued is Orleans from the English:

Thus Joan la Pucelle hath performed 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 bloomed and fruitful were the next.— France, triumph in thy glorious prophetess ! Recovered 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 we have played 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 of Memphis ever was;
In memory of her when she is dead,
Her ashes, in an urn more precious
Than the rich-jewelled 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 a Sergeant of a band, with 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.

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,
Wallon, and Picardy are friends to us,

This happy night the Frenchmen are secure,
Having all day caroused and banqueted.
Embrace we then this opportunity

As fitting best to quittance their deceit
Contrived by art and baleful sorcery.