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Act I. Refcu'd is Orleans from the English wolves:Thus Joan la Pucelle hath perform'd her word. Dau. Divineft creature, bright Aftræa's daughHow fhall I honour thee for this fuccefs? Thy promises are like Adonis' gardens,

[ter,

That one day bloom'd, and fruitful were the next.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 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 fhall 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 priefts and friars in my realm
Shall, in my proceffion, fing her endless praise.
A ftatelier pyramis to her I'll rear,
Than Rhodope's, or Memphis? ever was:
In memory of her, when the is dead,
Her afhes, in an urn more precious
Than the rich jewel'd coffer of Darius,
Transported fhall be at high feftivals
Before the kings and queens of France.
No longer on St Dennis will we cry,
But Joan la Pucelle fhall be France's faint.
Come in; and let us banquet royally,
After this golden day of victory.

[Flourish. Exeunt.

ACT

ACT II.

SCENE 1. Before Orleans.

Enter a French Serjeant with two Centinels.
Serjeant.

SIRS, take your places, and be vigilant:
If any noise, or foldier, you perceive,
Near to the walls, by fome apparent fign,
Let us have knowledge at the court of guard.
Cent. Serjeant, you fhall. [Exit Serjeant.] Thus
are poor fervitors

(When others fleep upon their quiet beds) Conftrain'd to watch in darkness, rain, and cold.

Enter TALBOT, BEDFORD, and BURGUNDY, with fealing Ladders. Their Drums beating a dead March. Tal. Lord regent-and redoubted BurgundyBy whose approach, the regions of Artois, Walloon, and Picardy, are friends to us————— This happy night the Frenchmen are fecure, Having all day carous'd and banqueted: Embrace we then this opportunity; \ As fitting best to quittance their deceit, Contriv'd by art, and baleful forcery.

Bed. Coward of France!-how much he wrongs Defpairing of his own arm's fortitude, [his fame, To join with witches, and the help of hell.

Bur. Traitors have never other company.But what's that Pucelle, whom they term fo pure?

Tal.

Tal. A maid they fay.

Bed. A maid! and be fo martial!

Bur. Pray God, fhe prove not mafculine ere long If underneath the standard of the French, She carry armour, as the hath begun.

Tal. Well, let them practise and converfe with fpirits:

God is our fortrefs; in whofe conquering name, Let us refolve to fcale their finty bulwarks.

Bed. Afcend, brave Talbot; we will follow thee. Tal. Not all together: better far, I guefs, That we do make our entrance feveral 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, fhall this night appear
How much in duty I am bound to both.

[The English, fealing the Walls, cry, St George!

A Talbot!

Cent. [Within.] Arm, arm! the enemy doth make affault !

The French leap over the Walls in their Shirts. Enter feveral Ways, BASTARD, ALENÇON, REIGNIER, half ready, and half unready.

Alen. How now, my lords? what, all unready fo? Baft. Unready? ay, and glad we fcap'd fo well, Reig. 'Twas time, I trow, to wake, and leave our beds,

Hearing alarums at our chamber doors.

Alen. Of all exploits, fince firft I follow'd arms,

Ne'er heard I of a warlike enterprize
More venturous, or defperate, than this.

Baft. I think, this Talbot is a fiend of hell. Reig. If not of hell, the heavens, fure, favour him. Alen. Here cometh Charles; I marvel, how he fped.

Enter CHARLES, and PUCELLE.

Baft. Tut! holy Joan was his defenfive guard. Char. Is this thy cunning, thou deceitful dame? Didit thou at first, to flatter us withal,

Make us partakers of a little gain,

That now our lofs fhould be ten times fo much? Pucel. Wherefore is Charles impatient with his friend?

At all times will you have my power alike?
Sleeping, or waking, muft I ftill prevail;
Or will you blame and lay the fault on me?-
Improvident foldiers! had your watch been good,
This fudden mischief never could have fall'n.
Char. Duke of Alençon, this was your default;
That, being captain of the watch to-night,
Did look no better to that weighty charge.
Alen. Had all your quarters been as fafely kept,
As that whereof I had the government,
We had not been thus fhamefully furpris'd.
Baft. Mine was fecure.

Reig. And fo was mine, my lord.

Char. And, for myself, moft part of all this night, Within her quarter, and mine own precinct, I was employ'd in paffing to and fro,

About relieving of the centinels:

Then how, or which way, fhould they first break in? Pucel. Queftion, my lords, no further of the cafe,

How,

How, or which way; 'tis fure, they found fome part
But weakly guarded, where the breach was made.
And now there refts no other fhift but this
To gather our foldiers, scatter'd and difpers'd,
And lay new platforms to endamage them.

Alarum. Enter a Soldier crying, a Talbot! a Talbot! they fly, leaving their Clothes behind.

Sol. I'll be fo bold to take what they have left. The cry of Talbot ferves me for a fword; For I have loaden me with many spoils, Ufing no other weapon but his name.

SCENE II. The fame.

[Exit.

Enter TALBOT, BEDFORD, BURGUNDY, &c. Bed. The day begins to break, and night is fled, Whofe pitchy mantle over-veil'd the earth. Here found retreat, and ceafe our hot pursuit.

[Retreat.

Tal. Bring forth the body of old Salisbury;
And here advance it in the market-place,
The middle centre of this curfed town.-
Now have I pay'd my vow unto his foul;
For every drop of blood was drawn from him,
There hath at least five Frenchmen dy'd to-night.
And, that hereafter ages may behold
What ruin happen'd in revenge of him,
Within their chiefeft temple I'll erect

A tomb, wherein his corpfe fhall be interred;
Upon the which, that every one may read,
Shall be engrav'd the fack of Orleans;

The treacherous manner of his mournful death,
And what a terror he had been to France.

But

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