Here, through this grate, I can count every one,
And view the Frenchmen how they fortify;
Let us look in; the sight will much delight thee.-
Sir Thomas Gargrave, and sir William Glansdale,
Let me have your express opinions,

Where is best place to make our battery next.

Gar. I think, at the north gate, for there stand lords Glan. And I, here, at the bulwark of the bridge. Tal. For aught I see, this city must be famished, Or with light skirmishes enfeebled.

[Shot from the town. SALISBURY and SIR
THO. GARGRAVE fall.

Sal. O Lord, have mercy on us, wretched sinners.
Gar. O Lord, have mercy on me, woful man!
Tal. What chance is this, that suddenly hath
crossed us?-

Speak, Salisbury; at least, if thou canst speak;
How far'st thou, mirror of all martial men?

One of thy eyes, and thy cheek's side struck off!1—
Accursed tower! accursed, fatal hand,
That hath contrived this woful tragedy!
In thirteen battles Salisbury o'ercame ;
Henry the Fifth he first trained to the wars;
Whilst any trump did sound, or drum struck up,
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.—
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-

1 Camden says, in his Remaines, that the French scarce knew the use of great ordnance till the siege of Mans in 1455, when a breach was made in the walls of that town by the English, under the conduct of this earl of Salisbury; and that he was the first English gentleman that was slain by a cannon ball.

He beckons with his hand, and smiles on me;
As who should say, When I am dead and gone,
Remember to avenge me on the French.-
Plantagenet, I will; and like thee, Nero,1
Play on the lute, beholding the towns burn.
Wretched shall France be only in my name.

[Thunder heard; afterwards an alarum. What stir is this? what tumult's in the heavens? Whence cometh this alarum, and the noise?

Enter a Messenger.

Mes. My lord, my lord, the French have gathered head.

The dauphin, with one Joan la Pucelle joined,-
A holy prophetess, new risen up,-

Is come with a great power to raise the siege.

[SALISBURY groans.

Tal. Hear, hear, how dying Salisbury doth groan!

It irks his heart, he cannot be revenged.-
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 Frenchmen dare. [Exeunt, bearing out the bodies.

SCENE V. The same. Before one of the gates. Alarum. Skirmishings. TALBOT pursueth the Dauphin, and driveth him in. Then

Enter JOAN LA PUCELLE, driving Englishmen before her. Then enter TALBOT.

Tal. Where is my strength, my valor, and my Our English troops retire; I cannot stay them;

A woman, clad in armor, chaseth them.

1 In the old copy, the word Nero is wanting.

force?

2 Puzzel means a dirty wench or a drab; "from puzza, i. e. malus fœtor," says Minsheu.

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 serv'st.
Puc. Come, come, 'tis only I that must disgrace

thee.

[They fight. 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.

Puc. Talbot, farewell; thy hour is not yet come; I must go victual Orleans forthwith.

O'ertake me, if thou canst; I scorn thy strength.
Go, go, cheer up thy hungry, starved men;

Help Salisbury to make his testament.

This day is ours, as many more shall be.

[PUCELLE enters the town, with Soldiers.

Tal. My thoughts are whirled like a potter's wheel; I know not where I am, nor what I do.

A witch, by fear, not force, like Hannibal,2

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 3 from the wolf,
Or horse, or oxen, from the leopard,

As you fly from your oft-subdued slaves.

[Alarum. Another skirmish.

1 The superstition of those times taught that he who could draw a witch's blood was free from her power.

2 Alluding to Hannibal's stratagem to escape, by fixing bundles of lighted twigs on the horns of oxen, recorded by Livy, lib. xxij. c. xvj. 3 Old copy, treacherous. Corrected by Pope.

your trenches.

It will not be.-Retire into

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. [Alarum. Retreat. Exeunt TALBOT and his Forces, &c.

SCENE VI. The same.

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

Puc. Advance our waving colors on the walls; Rescued is Orleans from the English wolves.'Thus Joan la Pucelle hath performed her word.

Char. Divinest creature, bright Astrea's daughter, How shall I honor thee for this success?

Thy promises are like Adonis' gardens,

That one day bloomed, and fruitful were the next.2France, 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. '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

1 Wolves. Thus the second folio; the first omits that word, and the epithet bright, prefixed to Astrea, in the next line but one.

2 The Adonis horti were nothing but portable earthen pots, with some lettuce or fennel growing in them.

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-jeweled 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.

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.