The shame hereof will make me hide my head. Despairing of his own arm's fortitude,
[Alarum. Retreat. Exeunt TALBOT and
his Forces, &c.

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?

Tal. A maid, they say.

Bed. A maid! and be so martial!

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.—

out the town?

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 through-
[fires,
Dauphin, command the citizens make bon-
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.
[men.
When they shall hear how we have play'd the
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.

ACT II.

SCEN 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 SER-
GEANT. [Thus are poor servitors
(When others sleep upon their quiet beds,
Constrain'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,

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 banquetted:
Embrace we then this opportunity;
As fitting best to quittance their deceit,
Contriv'd by art, and baleful sorcery.

Bed. Coward of France!-how much he
wrongs his fame,

*The same sound-room

Bur. Pray God, she prove not masculine ere long;

If underneath the standard of the French,
She carry armour, 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 bulwark.
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
How much in duty I am bound to both.
[The English scale the Walls, crying St. George!
a Talbot! and all enter by the Town.
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 un-
ready* so?

Bast. Unready? ay, and glad we 'scap'd so
well.

Reig. 'Twas time, I trow, to wake and leave our beds,

Hearing alarums at our chamber doors.

Ne'er heard I of a warlike enterprize [arms,
Alen. Of all exploits, since first I follow'd
More venturous, or desperate than this.

Bast. I think, this Talbot be a fiend of hell.
Reig. If not of hell, the heaven's, sure, fa-
vour 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?
Sleeping, or waking, must I still prevail,
Or will you blame and lay the fault on me?-
Improvident soldiers! had your watch been
good,

This sudden mischief never could have fall'n.
Char. Duke of Alençon, this was your de
fault;

That being captain of the watch to-night,
Did look no better to that weighty charge.

Alen. Had all your quarters been as safely
As that whereof I had the government, [kept

* Undressed.

We had not been thus shamefully surpriz'd.! Tal. Here is the Talbot; who would speak
Bast. Mine was secure.

with him?

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 employ'd in passing to and fro,
About relieving of the sentinels:
Then how, or which way, should they first
break in?

case,

Puc. Question, my lords, no further of the [place How, or which way; 'tis sure, they found some But weakly guarded, where the breach was made.

Alarum. Enter an English SOLDIER, crying, a Talbot! a Talbot! They fly, leaving their Clothes behind.

And now there rests no other shift but this,-Could not prevail with all their oratory,
To gather our soldiers, scatter'd and dispers'd, Yet hath a woman's kindness over-ruled:-
And lay new platforms* to endamage them. And therefore tell her, I return great thanks;
And in submission will attend on her.-
Will not your honours bear me company?

Bed. No, truly; it is more than manners will:
And I have heard it said,-Unbidden guests
Are often welcomest when they are gone.

Tal. Well then, alone, since there's no reme,
I mean to prove this lady's courtesy. [dy,
Come hither, captain. [Whispers.]—-You per-
ceive my mind.

Capt. Ido, my lord; and mean accordingly.
Exeunt.

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.

[Exit.

SCENE II.-Orleans.-Within the Town.
Enter TALBOT, BEDFORD, BURGUNDY, a CAP-
TAIN, 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;
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,
There hath at least five Frenchmen died to
And, that hereafter ages may behold [night.
What ruin happen'd in revenge of him,
Within their chiefest temple I'll erect
A tomb, wherein his corpse 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,
Leap o'er the walls for refuge in the field.

Bur. Myself, as far as I could well discern,
For smoke, and dusky vapours of the night,)
Am sure, I scar'd the Dauphin, and his trull;
When arm in arm they both came swiftly run-
Like to a pair of loving turtle-doves, [ning,
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

Mes. The virtuous lady, countess of Au-
With modesty admiring the renown, [vergne,
By me entreats, good lord, thou wouldst vouch-

Plans, schemes.

safe

To visit her poor castle where she lies;"
That she may boast, she hath beheld the man
Whose glory fills the world with loud report.
Bur. Is it even so? Nay, then, I see, our wars
Will turn into a peaceful comic sport,
When ladies crave to be encounter'd with.—
You may not, my lord, despise her gentle suit.
Tal. Ne'er trust me then; for, when a world
of men

Wonder.

SCENE III-Auvergne.-Court of the Castle-
Enter the CoUNTESS and her PORTER.
Count. Porter, remember what I gave in
charge;
[to me.
And when you have done so, bring the keys
Port. Madam, I will.
[Exit.

Count. The plot is laid: if all things fall out
I shall as famous be by this exploit, [right,
As Scythian Thomyris 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

ears,

To give their censuret of these rare reports.
Enter MESSENGER and TALBOT.

Mess. Madam,
According as your ladyship desir'd,
My message crav'd, so is lord Talbot come.
Count. And he is welcome. What! is this
the man?

Mess. Madam, it is.

Count. Is this the scourge of France?
Is this the Talbot, so much fear'd abroad,
That with his name the mothers still their babes?
I see, report is fabulous and false:

I thought, I should have seen some Hercules,
A second Hector, for his grim aspect,
And large proportion of his strong-knit limbs.
Alas! this is a child, a silly dwarf:

It cannot be, this weak and writhled‡ shrimp
Should strike such terror to his enemies.

Tal. Madam, I have been bold to trouble
you:

But, since your ladyship is not at leisure,
I'll sort some other time to visit you,
Count. What means he now ?-Go ask him,
whither he goes.

Mess. Stay, my lord Talbot; for my lady

Call ye the warlike Talbot, for his acts
So much applauded through the realm of I go to certify her, Talbot's here.

France?

craves

To know the cause of your abrupt departure.
Tal. Marry, for that she's in a wrong belief,

amared

stomachs always serve them well. With all my heart and think me great a warrior in my house. SE IV. London.—The Temple garden.' [Exeunt. Earls of SOMERSET, SUFFOLK, and RICHARD PLANTAGENET, VER!ed mather LAWYER. Great lords, and gentlemen, what

eans this silence?

answer in a case of truth? Fm the temple hall we were too onden here is more convenient. [loud: ↑ For a purpose.

↑ Protoucced loudly.

Re-enter PORTER, with Keys.

Count. If thou be he, then art thou prisoner.

Tal. Prisoner! to whom?

Count. To me, blood-thirsty lord:

And for that cause I train'd thee to my house.
Long time thy shadow hath been thrall to me,
For in my gallery thy picture hangs:

But now the substance shall endure the like;
And I will chain these legs and arms of thine,
That hast by tyranny, these many years,
Wasted our country, slain our citizens,
And sent our sons and husbands captivate.
Tal. Ha, ha, ha!
Count. Laughest

War. Between two hawks, which flies the higher pitch, [mouth, Between two dogs, which hath the deeper Between two blades, which bears the better temper, [best," Between two horses, which doth bear him Between two girls, which hath the merriest Tal. I laugh to see your ladyship so fond, I have, perhaps, some shallow spirit of judge[ment: To think that you have aught but Talbot's sha-But in these nice sharp quillets of the law, Whereon to practise your severity.

shall turn to moan.

eye,

[dow,

Good faith, I am no wiser than a daw.

Count. Why, art not thou the man?
Tal. I am indeed.

Plan. Tut, tut, here is a mannerly forbear

ance;

thou, wretch? thy mirth

He will be here, and yet he is not here:
How can these contrarieties agree?

Tal. That will I show you presently.

The truth appears so naked on my side,
That any purblind eye may find it out.

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.

Som. And on my side it is so well apparell'd,
So clear, so shining, and so evident,
That it will glimmer through a blind man's eye.
Plan. Since you are tongue-ty'd, and so
loath to speak,

nonce;t

Count. This is a riddling merchant for the In dumb significants proclaim your thoughts:
Let him, that is a true-born gentleman,
And stands upon the honour of his birth,
If he suppose that I have pleaded truth,
From off this brier pluck a white rose with me.
Som. Let him that is no coward, nor no flat-
terer,

He winds a Horn. Drums heard; then a peal of Ordnance. The Gates being forced, enter Soldiers.

Plan. Then say at once, if I maintain'd the truth:

Or, else, was wrangling Somerset in the error?

Suff. 'Faith, I have been a truant in the law;
And never yet could frame my will to it;
And, therefore, frame the law unto my will.
Som. Judge you, my lord of Warwick, then
between us.

Som. Prick not your finger as you pluck it off;
Lest, bleeding, you do paint the white rose red,
And fall on my side so against your will.

Ver. If I my lord, for my opinion bleed,
Opinion shall be surgeon to my hurt,
And keep me on the side where still I am.
Som. Well, well, come on; Who else?
Law. Unless my study and my books be false,
The argument you held, was wrong in you;
[TO SOMERSET
In sign whereof, I pluck a white rose too.
Plan. Now, Somerset, where is your argu

ment?

Som. Here, in my scabbard; meditating that,
Shall die your white rose in a bloody red.
Plan. Meantime, your cheeks do counterfeit
our roses;

I. e. Regulate his motions most adroitly.
Tints and deceits, a play on the word.
Justly proposed.

2

Shall be wip'd out in the next parliament,
Call'd for the truce of Winchester and Gloster:
And, if thou be not then created York,
I will not live to be accounted Warwick.
Meantime, in signal of my love to thee,
Against proud Somerset, and William Poole,
Will I upon thy party wear this rose :
And here I prophesy.-This brawl to-day,
Grown to this faction, in the Temple garden,
Plan. Ay, sharp and piercing, to maintain Shall send, between the red rose and the
his truth;
[hood.
Whiles thy consuming canker eats his false-A
Som. Well, I'll find friends to wear my
bleeding roses,

white,

For pale they look with fear, as witnessing
The truth on our side.

Som. No, Plantagenet,

'Tis not for fear; but anger,-that thy cheeks Blush for pure shame, to counterfeit our roses; And yet thy tongue will not confess thy error. Plan. Hath not thy rose a canker, Somerset? Som. Hath not thy rose a thorn, Planta✓ genet?

That shall maintain what I have said is true,
Where false Plantagenet dare not be seen.
Plan. Now, by this maiden blossom in my
hand,

land;

Spring crestless yeoman* from so deepa root?
Plan. He bears him on the place's privilege,t
Or durst not, for his craven heart, say thus.
Som. By him that made me, I'll maintain

I scorn thee and thy fashion, peevish boy. Suff. Turn not thy scorns this way, Plantagenet.

Plan. Proud Poole, I will; and scorn both him and thee.

Suff. I'll turn my part thereof into thy throat. Som. Away, away, good William De-laPoole! [him. We grace the yeoman, by conversing with War. Now, by God's will, thou wrong'st him, Somerset ;

Mor. Kind keepers of my weak decaying

age,

His grandfather was Lionel, duke of Clarence, Let dying Mortimer here rest himself.→
Third son to the third Edward king of Eng-Even like a man new haled from the rack,

set,

Were growing time once ripen'd to my will.
For your partakerý Poole, and you yourself,
I'll note you in my book of memory,
To scourge you for this apprehension :||
Look to it well; and say you are well warn'd.
Som. Ay, thou shalt find us ready for thee
still:

Nestor-like aged, in an age of care,
Argue the end of Edmund Mortimer.
These eyes-like lamps whose wasting oil is
spent,-

dim, as drawing to their exigent:f
Weak shoulders, overborne with burd'ning
For treason executed in our late king's days?
And, by his treason, stand'st not thou attainted, And pithless arms, like to a wither'd vine
grief;
Corrupted, and exempt from ancient gentry? That droops his sapless branches to the
His trespass yet lives guilty in thy blood;
ground:-
And, till thou be restor❜d, thou art a yeoman. Yet are these feet-whose strengthless stay is
[numb,
Plan. My father was attached, not attainted, Unable to support this lump of clay,-
Condemn'd to die for treason, but no traitor; Swift-winged with desire to get a grave,
And that I'll prove on better men than Somer-As witting I no other comfort have.-

-

But tell me, keeper, will my nephew come?
1 Keep. Richard Plantagenet, my lord, will

rose,

As cognizance of my blood-drinking hate,
Will I for ever, and my faction wear;
Until it wither with me to the grave,
Or flourish to the height of my degree.
'Suff. Go forward, and be chok'd with thy

thousand souls to death and deadly night.
Plan. Good master Vernon, I am bound to
you,

That you on my behalf would pluck a flower.
Ver. In your behalf still will I wear the

same.

my words

On any plot of ground in Christendom:
Was not thy father, Richard, earl of Cam-Wax
bridge,

ambition!

And so farewell, until I meet thee next. [Exit.
Som. Have with thee, Poole.-Farewell,
ambitious Richard.
[Exit.
Plan. How I am brav'd, and must perforce
endure it!

War. This blot, that they object against
your house,

Law. And so will I.

Plon. Thanks, gentle Sir.

Come let us four to dinner: I dare say,
This quarrel will drink blood another day.
[Exeun!.

SCENE V.-The same.-A Room in the Tower-
Enter MORTIMER, brought in a Chair by two
Keepers.

And these grey locks, the pursuivants of
So fare my limbs with long imprisonment:

death,*

come:

We sent unto the Temple, to his chamber;
And answer was return'd that he will come.

Mor. Enough; my soul shall then be satis-
fied.-

Poor gentleman! his wrong doth equal mine.
(Before whose glory I was great in arms,)
Since Henry Monmouth first began to reign,
This loathsome sequestration have I had;
And even since then hath Richard been ob-
Deprived of honour and inheritance: [scur'd.
But now, the arbitrator of despairs,
Just death, kind umpireț of men's miseries,
With sweet enlargement doth dismiss me
hence;

I would, his troubles likewise were expir'd,
That so he might recover what was lost.

Enter RICHARD PLANTAGENET.

1 Keep. My lord, your loving nephew now

is come.

Mor. Richard Plantagenet, my friend? Is he

come?

The heralds that, fore running death, proclaim its approach.

tEnd. . He who terminates or concludes misery.