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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 Dauphin, with one Joan la Pucelle join'd,-
Is come with a great power to raise the siege.
[SALISBURY lifts 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 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.--ORLEANS. Before one of the Gates. Alarum. Skirmishings. Enter TALBOT, pursuing the Dauphin: drives him in, and exit: then enter LA PUCELLE, driving Englishmen before her, and exit after them. Then re-enter TALBOT.
Tal. Where is my strength, my valour, and my force?
Our English troops retire, I cannot stay them;
Re-enter LA PUCELLE.
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.
[They fight again. Puc. [Retiring.] Talbot, farewell; thy hour is not yet come:
I must go victual Orleans forthwith.
Help Salisbury to make his testament: This day is ours, as many more shall be.
[LA PUCELLE enters the town, with Soldiers. Tal. My thoughts are whirlèd like a potter's I know not where I am, nor what I do: [wheel: A witch by fear, not force, like Hannibal, 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 call'd 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 from the wolf, Or horse or oxen from the léopard, As you fly from your oft-subdued slaves.
[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, LA PUCELLE, CHARLES,
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,
More blessed hap did ne'er befall our state.
Dauphin, command the citizens make bonfires,
Alen. All France will be replete with mirth and joy,
SCENE I.-ORLEANS. Before one of the Gates.
If any noise, or soldier, you perceive,
1 Sent. Sergeant, you shall. [Exit Sergeant. 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
Bed. Coward of France !-how much he wrongs his fame,
Despairing of his own arm's fortitude,
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.
A maid! and be so martial!
Bur. Pray God, she prove not masculine ere long;
If underneath the standard of the French
Tal. Well, let them practise and converse with spirits:
God is our fortress, in whose conquering name
Bed. Ascend, brave Talbot; we will follow thee.
The French leap over the walls in their shirts. Enter, several ways, BASTARD OF ORLEANS, ALENCON, and REIGNIER, half ready, and half unready.
Alen. How now, my lords! what, all unready 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.
Alen. Of all exploits, since first I follow'd arms, Ne'er heard I of a warlike enterprise More venturous or desperate than this.
Bast. I think this Talbot be a fiend of hell.
Reig. If not of hell, the heavens, sure, favour him.
Alen. Here cometh Charles: I marvel how he sped.
Bast. Tut! holy Joan was his defensive guard.
Enter CHARLES and LA PUCELLE.
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?
At all times will you have my power alike?
Char. Duke of Alençon, this was your default,
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,
Then how, or which way, should they first break in?
But weakly guarded, where the breach was made.
Within the Town.
Enter TALBOT, Bedford, BurGUNDY, a Captain, and others.
Tal. Bring forth the body of old Salisbury,
I muse we met not with the Dauphins grace,
His new-come champion, virtuous Joan of Arc,
Bed. 'Tis thought, lord Talbot, when the fight began,
Rous'd on the sudden from their drowsy beds,
Bur. Myself (as far as I could well discern,
We'll follow them with all the power we have.
Enter a Messenger.
Mess. Madam, it is. Count.
Is this the scourge of France?
I thought I should have seen some Hercules,
It cannot be, this weak and writhled shrimp
Tal. Madam, I have been bold to trouble you;
Count. What means he now?- Go ask him, whither he goes.
Mess. Stay, my lord Talbot; for my lady craves
Mess. All hail, my lords! Which of this princely To know the cause of your abrupt departure.
Call ye the warlike Talbot, for his acts
So much applauded through the realm of France? Tal. Here is the Talbot: who would speak with him?
Mess. The virtuous lady, countess of Auvergne, With modesty admiring thy renown,
By me entreats, great lord, thou wouldst vouchsafe
Bur. Is it even so? Nay, then, I see our wars
Tal. Ne'er trust me, then; for when a world of
Could not prevail with all their oratory,
Bed. No, truly; it is more than manners will:
Tal. Well then, alone, since there's no remedy,
Capt. I do, my lord, and mean accordingly.
SCENE III.—AUVERGNE. Court of the Castle. Enter the COUNTESS and her Porter. Count. Porter, remember what I gave in charge; And when you have done so, bring the keys to me. Port. Madam, I will. [Exit.
Count. The plot is laid: if all things fall out right,
I shall as famous be by this exploit,
Enter Messenger and TALBOT.
Mess. Madam, according as your ladyship desir'd By message crav'd, so is lord Talbot come.
Count. And he is welcome. What is this the man?
Tal. Marry, for that she's in a wrong belief, I go to certify her Talbot's here.
Re-enter Porter, with keys.
Count. If thou be he, then art thou prisoner.
To me, blood-thirsty lord;
But now the substance shall endure the like,
Count. Laughest thou, wretch? thy mirth shall
Count. Then have I substance too.
I tell you, madam, were the whole frame here,
Your roof were not sufficient to contain it.
Count. This is a riddling merchant for the nonce; He will be here, and yet he is not here: How can these contrarieties agree? Tal. That will I show you presently.
He winds a horn.
Drums strike up; then a peal of ordnance. The gates being forced, enter Soldiers. How say you, madam? are you now persuaded, That Talbot is but shadow of himself? These are his substance, sinews, arms, and strength, With which he yoketh your rebellious necks, Razeth your cities, and subverts your towns, And in a moment makes them desolate.
Count. Victorious Talbot! pardon my abuse: I find thou art no less than fame hath bruited, And more than may be gather'd by thy shape. Let my presumption not provoke thy wrath; For I am sorry, that with reverence
I did not entertain thee as thou art.
Tal. Be not dismay'd, fair lady; nor misconstrue The mind of Talbot, as you did mistake
Enter the EARLS OF SOMERSET, SUFFOLK, and WARWICK;
Dare no man answer in a case of truth?
Plan. Then say at once, if I maintain'd the truth;
Suf. 'Faith, I have been a truant in the law,
Som. Judge you, my lord of Warwick, then, be
War. Between two hawks, which flies the higher
Between two dogs, which hath the deeper mouth;
Plan. Tut, tut! here is a mannerly forbearance:
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-tied, and so loath to
In dumb significants proclaim your thoughts:
If he suppose that I have pleaded truth,
Som. Let him that is no coward, nor no flatterer,
War. I love no colours; and, without all colour
I pluck this white rose with Plantagenet.
Suf. I pluck this red rose with young Somerset ; And say withal, I think he held the right.
Ver. Stay, lords and gentlemen, and pluck no
Till you conclude, that he, upon whose side
Som. Good master Vernon, it is well objected:
Plan. And I.
Ver. Then, for the truth and plainness of the case,
Som. Prick not your finger as you pluck it off,
Ver. If I, my lord, for my opinion bleed,
The argument you held, was wrong in you;
Plan. Now, Somerset, where is your argument?
Shall dye your white rose in a bloody red.
Plan. Meantime, your cheeks do counterfeit our
'Tis not for fear, but anger, that thy cheeks
Whiles thy consuming canker eats his falsehood.
Where false Plantagenet dare not be seen,
Plan. Now, by this maiden blossom in my hand,
Suf. I'll turn my part thereof into thy throat.
His grandfather was Lionel, duke of Clarence,
Plan. He bears him on the place's privilege,
On any plot of ground in Christendom.
Plan. My father was attached, not attainted;
Som. Ay, thou shalt find us ready for thee still;
Suf. Go forward, and be chok'd with thy ambiAnd so, farewell, until I meet thee next.
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,
Shall be wip'd out in the next parliament,
Ver. In your behalf still will I wear the same.
Plan. Thanks, gentle Sir..
SCENE V-LONDON. A Room in the Tower. Enter MORTIMER, brought in a chair by two Keepers. Mor. Kind keepers of my weak decaying age, Let dying Mortimer here rest himself. Even like a man new hailed from the rack, So fare my limbs with long imprisonment; And these gray locks, the pursuivants of death, Nestor like aged, in an age of care, Argue the end of Edmund Mortimer. These eyes,-like lamps whose wasting oil is spent, Wax dim, as drawing to their exigent: Weak shoulders, overborne with burd'ning grief; And pithless arms, like to a wither'd vine That droops his sapless branches to the ground: Yet are these feet,-whose strengthless stay is numb, Unable to support this lump of clay,Swift-winged with desire to get a grave, As witting I no other comfort have.But tell me, keeper, will my nephew come?
1 Keep. Richard Plantagenet, my lord, will 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 satisfied.— Poor gentleman! his wrong doth equal mine. Since Henry Monmouth first began to reign, (Before whose glory I was great in arms) This loathsome sequestration have I had;
And even since then hath Richard been obscur'd,·
But now, the arbitrator of despairs,
With sweet enlargement doth dismiss me hence:
Enter RICHARD PLANTAGENET.
1 Keep. My lord, your loving nephew now is come.. Mor. Richard Plantagenet, my friend, is he come? Plan. Ay, noble uncle, thus ignobly us'd, Your nephew, late despisèd Richard, comes.
Mor. Direct mine arms I may embrace his neck, And in his bosom spend my latter gasp: O, tell me when my lips do touch his cheeks,
That I may kindly give one fainting kiss.And now declare, sweet stem from York's great stock,
Why didst thou say-of late thou wert despis'd? Plan. First, lean thine agèd back against mine
And, in that ease, I'll tell thee my disease.
And for alliance' sake, declare the cause
Mor. I will, if that my fading breath permit,
I was the next by birth and parentage;
From Lionel duke of Clarence, the third son
Plan Of which, my lord, your honour is the last,
Plan. Thy grave admonishments prevail with me
Mor. With silence, nephew, be thou politic:
As princes do their courts, when they are cloy'd