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Sal. Talbot, my life, my joy! again return'd!
How wert thou handled being prisoner?
Or by what means got'st thou to be releas'd,
Discourse, I prithee, on this turret's top.

Tal. The Duke of Bedford had a prisoner
Called the brave Lord Ponton de Santrailles; 28
For him I was exchang'd and ransomed.
But with a baser man at arms by far

Once in contempt they would have barter'd


Which I disdaining scorn'd, and craved death 32
Rather than I would be so vile-esteem'd.
In fine, redeem'd I was as I desir'd.

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[Here they shoot. SALISBURY and SIR THOMAS GARGRAVE fall. Sal. O Lord! have mercy on us, wretched sinners.

Gar. O Lord! have mercy on me, woeful man. Tal. What chance is this that suddenly hath cross'd us?


Speak, Salisbury; at least, if thou canst

How far'st thou, mirror of all martial men?
One of thy eyes and thy cheek's side struck off!

But, O! the treacherous Fastolfe wounds my Accursed tower! accursed fatal hand


That hath contriv'd this woeful tragedy! 36 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,

Whom with my bare fists I would execute
If I now had him brought into my power.
Sal. Yet tell'st thou not how thou wert enter-

Tal. With scoffs and scorns and contume-
lious taunts.

In open market-place produc'd they me,
To be a public spectacle to all:


Here, said they, is the terror of the French,
The scarecrow that affrights our children so.
Then broke I from the officers that led me,
And with my nails digg'd stones out of the


To hurl at the beholders of my shame.
My grisly countenance made others fly.
None durst come near for fear of sudden death.
In iron walls they deem'd me not secure;
So great fear of my name 'mongst them was

That they suppos'd I could rend bars of steel
And spurn in pieces posts of adamant:
Wherefore a guard of chosen shot I had,
That walk'd about me every minute-while;
And if I did but stir out of my bed

Ready they were to shoot me to the heart.




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. 84
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, 92
As who should say, 'When I am dead and gone,
Remember to avenge me on the French.'
Plantagenet, I will; and like thee, Nero,
Play on the lute, beholding the towns burn: 96
Wretched shall France be only in my name.
[It thunders and lightens. An alarum.
What stir is this? What tumult's in the heavens?
56 Whence cometh this alarum and the noise?

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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.
[Here SALISBURY lifteth himself
up and groans.
Tal. Hear, hear how dying Salisbury doth

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[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 treacherous from the wolf,
Or horse or oxen from the leopard,
As you fly from your oft-subdued slaves.
[Alarum. Another skirmish.

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 French-It will not be: retire into your trenches:
men dare.
You all consented unto Salisbury's death,
For none would strike a stroke in his revenge.
Pucelle is entered into Orleans

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[Exeunt, bearing out the bodies.

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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.

Flourish. Enter, on the walls, JOAN LA PU-

Joan. Advance our waving colours on the

Rescu'd is Orleans from the English:
Thus Joan la Pucelle hath perform'd her word.
Char. Divinest creature, Astræa's daughter, 4
How shall I honour thee for this success?
Thy promises are like Adonis' gardens,
That one day bloom'd and fruitful were the

France, triumph in thy glorious prophetess! 8
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?

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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 20 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-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.


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,

24 The other yet may rise against their force. 32
Bed. Agreed. I'll to yond corner.


[Flourish. Exeunt.

SCENE I.-Before Orleans.

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. 4 First Sent. Sergeant, you shall.

[Exit Sergeant. Thus are poor servitorsWhen others sleep upon their quiet bedsConstrain❜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, 8 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,

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, 'Saint George!' 'A Talbot!' and all enter the town. First Sent. Arm, arm! the enemy doth make assault!

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Alen. Here cometh Charles: I marvel how he sped. 48 Bast. Tut! holy Joan was his defensive guard.

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Bast. Mine was secure.

And so was mine, my lord.
Char. And for myself, most part of all this

Within her quarter and mine own precinct 68
I was employ'd in passing to and fro,
About relieving of the sentinels:

Then how or which way should they first break in? Joan. Question, my lords, no further of the case,


How or which way: 'tis sure they found some place

But weakly guarded, where the breach was made.
And now there rests no other shift but this;
To gather our soldiers, scatter'd and dispers'd,
And lay new platforms to endamage them. 77
Alarum. Enter an English Soldier, crying, 'A
Talbot! a Talbot!' They fly, leaving their
clothes behind.

Sold. I'll be so bold to take what they have left.

The cry of Talbot serves me for a sword;
For I have loaden me with many spoils,
Using no other weapon but his name.



SCENE II.-Orleans. Within the l'own. Enter TALBOT, BEDFORD, BURGUNDY, a Captain, and Others.

Bed. The day begins to break, and night is fled,
Whose pitchy mantle over-veil'd the earth.
Here sound retreat, and cease our hot pursuit.
[Retreat sounded.
Tal. Bring forth the body of old Salisbury, 4
And here advance it in the market-place,
The middle centre of this cursed town.
Now have I paid my vow unto his soul;
For every drop of blood was drawn from him 8
There hath at least five Frenchmen died to-

And that hereafter ages may behold
What ruin happen'd in revenge of him,
Within their chiefest temple I'll erect

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12 I mean to prove this lady's courtesy. Come hither, captain. [Whispers.] You perceive my mind.

A tomb wherein his corse shall be interr'd:
Upon the which, that every one may read,
Shall be engrav'd the sack of Orleans,
The treacherous manner of his mournful death,
And what a terror he had been to France.
But, lords, in all our bloody massacre,
I muse we met not with the Dauphin's grace,
His new-come champion, virtuous Joan of Arc,
Nor any of his false confederates.



Bed. 'Tis thought, Lord Talbot, when the fight began,

Rous'd on the sudden from their drowsy beds, They did amongst the troops of armed men 24

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Count. The plot is laid: if all things fall out To think that you have aught but Talbot's 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

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Whereon to practise your severity.
Count. Why, art not thou the man?

I am, indeed. 48
Count. Then have I substance too.
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 it. 56 Count. This is a riddling merchant for the

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He winds a horn. Drums strike up; 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

With which he yoketh your rebellious necks, 64
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; For I am sorry that with reverence I did not entertain thee as thou art.


Tal. Be not dismay'd, fair lady; nor misconster

The mind of Talbot as you did mistake
The outward composition of his body.
What you have done hath not offended me; 76
Nor other satisfaction do I crave,

But only, with your patience, that we may
Taste of your wine and see what cates you have;
For soldiers' stomachs always serve them well.
Count. With all my heart, and think me

To feast so great a warrior in my house.





Plan. Great lords, and gentlemen, what means this silence?

Dare no man answer in a case of truth?

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