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For I intend to have it, ere be long.

[Exeunt.

Mayor. See the coaft clear'd, and then we will depart. Good God! that nobles fhould fuch ftomachs bear! I my self fight not once in forty year.

[Exeunt.

SCENE changes to Orleans in France.

Enter the Mafter-gunner of Orleans, and his Boy. IRRAH, thou know'ft how Orleans is befieg'd,

M. Gun. SI

And how the English have the fuburbs won.

Boy. Father, I know, and oft have shot at them, How e'er, unfortunate, I miss'd my aim.

M. Gun. But now thou shalt not. Be thou rul'd by me?
Chief Mafter-gunner am I of this town,
Something I must do to procure me grace.
The Prince's 'fpials have informed me,
The English, in the fuburbs close intrench'd,
Went thro' a fecret grate of iron bars,
In yonder tow'r, to over-peer the city;:
And thence difcover how, with most advantage,
They may vex us, with shot or with affault.
To intercept this inconvenience,

A piece of ord'nance 'gainst it I have plac'd;
And fully ev'n these three days have I watch'd,
If I could fee them. Now, Boy, do thou watch.
For I can ftay no longer,-

If thou spy'ft any, run and bring me word,
And thou fhalt find me at the Governor's.

Boy. Father, I warrant you; take you no care;

I'll never trouble you, if I may fpy them.

[Exit:

Enter Salisbury and Talbot on the turrets, with others. Sal. Talbot, my life, my joy, again return'd! How wert thou handled, being prisoner ? Or by what means got'it thou to be releas'd? Difcourfe, I prythee, on this turret's top. Tal. The Duke of Bedford had a prisoner, Called the brave Lord Ponton de Santraile. For him was I exchang'd, and ransomed..

But

But with a bafer man of arms by far,

Once, in contempt, they would have barter'd me:
Which I difdaining fcorn'd, and craved death,
Rather than I would be fo vile esteem'd.
In fine, redeem'd I was, as I defir'd.

But, oh! the treach'rous Faftolfe wounds my heart;
Whom with my bare fifts I would execute,

If I now had him brought into my pow'r.

Sal. Yet tell'st thou not, how thou wert entertain’d. Tal. With fcoffs and fcorns, and contumelious taunts, In open market-place produc'd they me,

To be a publick spectacle to all.

Here, faid they, is the terror of the French`;
The fcare-crow, that affrights our children fo.
Then broke I from the officers that led me,
And with my nails digg'd ftones out of the ground,
To hurl at the beholders of my fhame.
My grifly countenance made others fly;
None durft come near, for fear of fudden death.
In iron walls they deem'd me not secure:
So great' a fear my name amongst them fpread,
That they fuppos'd, I could rend bars of steel;
And fpurn in pieces pofts of adamant.
Wherefore a guard of chosen shot I had
They walk'd about me ev'ry minute-while;
And if I did but ftir out of my bed,
Ready they were to fhoot me to the heart.

;

Enter the Boy, with a Linflock.

Sal. I grieve to hear what torments you endur'd, But we will be reveng'd fufficiently.

Now it is fupper-time in Orleans:

Here thro' this grate I can count every one,
And view the Frenchmen how they fortify:
Let us look in, the fight will much delight thee.
Sir Thomas Gargrave, and Sir William Glanfdale,
Let me have your exprefs opinions,

Where is best place to make our batt'ry 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 fee, this city must be famish'd,

Or

Or with light fkirmishes enfeebled,

[Here they foot, and Salisbury falls down. Sal. O Lord, have mercy on us, wretched finners. Gar. O Lord, have mercy on me, woful man. Tal. What chance is this, that fuddenly hath croft us ? Speak, Salisbury; at leaft, if thou canst speak; How far'ft thou, mirror of all martial men? One of thy eyes and thy cheek's fide ftruck off! Accurfed tow'r, accurfed fatal hand, That hath contriv'd this woful tragedy! In thirteen battles Salisbury o'ercame: Henry the Fifth he firft train'd to the wars. Whilft any trump did found, or drum ftruck up, His fword did ne'er leave ftriking in the field. Yet liv'ft thou, Salisbury? tho' thy fpeech doth fail, One eye thou haft to look to heav'n for grace. The fun with one eye vieweth all the world. Heav'n, 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, haft thou any life? Speak unto Talbot; nay, look up to him. O Salib'ry, chear thy fpirit with this comfort, Thou shalt not die, while

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He beckons with his hand, and fmiles on me,
As who should fay, When I am dead and gone,
Remember to avenge me on the French.
Plantagenet, I will; and, Nero-like,

Play on the lute, beholding the towns burn:
Wretched fhall France be only in my name.

[Here an alarm, and it thunders and lightens. What ftir is this? what tumults in the heav'ns ? Whence cometh this alarum and this noise ?

Enter a Messenger.

Me. My lord, my lord, the French have gather'd head. The Dauphin with one Joan la Pucelle join'd,

A holy prophetess new rifen up,

Is come with a great power to raife the fiege.

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

It irks his heart, he cannot be reveng'd.

Frenchmen, I'll be a Salisbury to you.
Pucelle or Puffel, Dauphin or Dog-fifb,

Your hearts I'll ftamp out with my Horfe's heels,
And make a quagmire of your mingled brains.
Convey brave Salisbury into his tent,

And then we'll try what daftard Frenchmen dare. [Alarum. Exeunt, bearing Salisbury and Sir Thomas Gargrave out.

Here an alarm again; and Talbot purfueth the Dauphin, and driveth him: then enter Joan la Pucelle, driving Englishmen before her. Then enter Talbot.

Tal. Where is my ftrength, my valour, and my force? Our English troops retire, I cannot stay them: A woman, clad in armour, chafeth them.

Enter 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 ftraitway give thy foul to him thou ferv'ft.

Pucel. Come, come, 'tis only I, that muft difgrace

thee.

[They fight. Tal. Heavens, can you fuffer hell fo to prevail? My breast I'll burft with ftraining of my courage, And from my shoulders crack my arms afunder, But I will chaftife this high-minded ftrumpet.

Pucel, Talbot, farewel, thy hour is not yet come, I must go victual Orleans forthwith.

[Abort alarum. Then enter the town with foldiers. O'ertake me if thou canft, I fcorn thy strength. Go, go, chear up thy hunger-ftarved men,

Help Salisbury to make his teftament:

This day is ours, as many more fhall be. [Exit Pucelle. 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,
Drives back our troops, and conquers as the lifts.
So Bees with fmoak, and Doves with noisom stench,
Are from their hives, and houses, driv'n away.

They

They call'd us for our fierceness English dogs,
Now, like their whelps, we crying run away.
[A fhort alarum.
Hark, countrymen! either renew the fight,
Or tear the Lions out of England's Coat;
Renounce your foil, give Sheep in Lions' stead :
Sheep run not half fo tim'rous from the Wolf,
Or Horfe or Oxen from the Leopard,
As you fly from your oft-fubdued flaves.

[Alarum. Here another Skirmish.
It will not be retire into your trenches:
You all confented unto Salisbury's death,
For none would ftrike a ftroke in his revenge.
Pucelle is enter'd into Orleans,

In fpight of us, or aught that we could do.
O, would I were to die with Salisbury!
The fhame hereof will make me hide my head.

[Exit Talbot. [Alarum, Retreat, Flourish.

Enter on the Wall, Pucelle, Dauphin, Reignier,
Alanfon, and Soldiers.

Pucel. Advance our waving colours on the walls,
Refcu'd is Orleans from the English Wolves :
Thus Joan la Pucelle hath perform'd her word.
Dau. Divineft creature, bright Aftrea's daughter,
How fhall I honour thee for this fuccefs!
Thy promifes are like Adonis' Garden,

That one day bloom'd, and fruitful were the next.
France, triumph in thy glorious prophetess!

Recover'd is the town of Orleans;

More bleffed hap did ne'er befal 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 ftreets;

To celebrate the joy, that God hath giv'n us.

Alan. All France will be replete with mirth and joy, When they shall hear how we have play'd the men. Dau. '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

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