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Ready they were to shoot me to the heart.
Sal. I grieve to hear what torments you endur’d;
Gar. I think, at the north gate; for there stand lords.
Tal. For aught I see, this city must be famish’d, Or with light skirmishes enfeebled.
[Shot from the Town. SALISBURY and Sir Tho.
Heaven, be thou gracious to none alive,
[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. Mess. My lord, my lord, the French have gather'd head: 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.
[SALISBURY 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 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 valour, and my force? Our English troops retire, I cannot stay them; A woman, clad in armour, chaseth them.
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.
Puc. Talbot, farewell; thy hour is not yet come,
[Pucelle enters the Town, with Soldiers.
Drives back our troops, and conquers as she lists:
[A short Alarum.
[ Alarum. Another Skirmish. It will not be :-Retire into your trenches: You all consented unto Salisbury's death, For none would strike a stroke in his revenge.Pucelle is enter'd 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.
Char. Divinest creature, bright Astræa's daughter, How shall I honour thee for this success?
Thy promises are like Adonis' gardens,
Reig. Why ring not out the bells throughout the town?
Alen. All France will be replete with mirth and joy, When they shall hear how we have play'd 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 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-jeweld 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