Here an alarm again; and Talbot purfueth the Dauphin, and driveth him. Then enter Foan 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, chafeth them.

Enter Pucelle.

Here, here, fhe 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 ftraightway give thy foul to him thou ferv'ft.
Pucel. Come, come, 'tis only I that must disgrace
[They fight.*
Talbot, farewel, thy hour is not yet come;

thee.

I must go victual Orleans forthwith.

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

Help Salisbury to make his teftament :

This day is ours, as many more shall 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 noisome stench,
Are from their hives and houses driv'n away.
They call'd us for our fierceness English dogs,
Now like their whelps we crying run away.

[A short alarm,

Hark, countrymen! either renew the fight,
Or tear the lions out of England's coat:
Renounce your foil, give theep in lions' stead:
Sheep run not half fo tim'rous from the wolf,
Or horfe or oxen from the leopard,

*They fight.

Tal. Heaven's, can you fuffer hell fo to prevail?
My breaft I'll burft with fraining of my courage,
And from my shoulders crack my arms alunder,
But I will chaftife this high-minded ftrumpet.
Pucel. Talbot, farewel, &c.

As

As you fly from your oft-fubdued flaves.

[Alarm. 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 spight of us, or ought that we cou'd do.
O, would I were to die with Salisbury!
The fhame hereof will make me hide my head.

[Exit Talbot. [Alarm, 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 promises are like Adonis' gardens *,

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 feaft and banquet in the open streets, 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:

The gardens of Adonis were never reprefented under any local de feription, nor is any fuch thing implied in this place. They were only beds of earth put into portable cafes of filver or other matter, in which were raifed fuch flowers and herbs as were of quick growth and fhort continuance, the production and maturity of them being alfo haftened by artificial means. Upon this quickness of growth the allufion here is founded: though anciently the gardens of Adonis was a proverbial expreffion to fignify tranfitory Aceting pleasures, and perfons alfo of a flight trifling account. Șce Eraf, adag, Oxford Editor.

For

For which I will divide my crown with her,
And all the priests and friars in my realm
Shall in proceffion fing her endless praise.
A ftatelier pyramid 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,
Tranfported 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 Saint.
Come in, and let us banquet royally,

After this golden day of victory. [Flourish. Exeunt.

ACT II.

SCENE I.

Before Orleans.

Enter a Serjeant of a band with two Centinels.

Serj. Irs, take your places, and be vigilant.
If any noife or foldier you perceive
Near to the wall, by fome apparent fign

Let us have knowledge at the court of guard.

Cent. Serjeant, you shall. 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 fealingladders. Their drums beating a dead march. Tal. Lord Regent, and redoubted Burgundy, By whofe 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 beft to quittance their deceit,

Contriv'd by art and baleful forcery.

Bed. Coward of France! how much. he wrongs his

Defpairing of his own arms' fortitude,

To join with witches and the help of hell!
Bur. Traitors have never other company.

[fame,

But what's that Pucelle whom they term fo pure?
Tal. A maid, they fay.

Bed. A maid? and be fo martial?

Bur. Pray God, the prove not mafculine ere long! If underneath the ftandard of the French

She carry armour as she hath begun.

Tal. Well, let them practife and converse with spirits;
God is our fortrefs, in whofe conqu'ring name
Let us refolve to fcale their flinty bulwarks.

Bed. Afcend, brave Talbot, we will follow thee.
Tal. Not all together: better far I guess,
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. I to this.

Tal. And here will Talbot mount, or make his Now, Salisbury! for thee, and for the right Of English Henry, fhall this night appear How much in duty I am bound to both.

grave.

Cent. [within] Arm, arm; the enemy doth make affault.

[The English fcaling the walls, cry, St. George! A Talbot!

The French leap o'er the walls in their fhirts. Enter, feveral ways, Baftard, Alanfon, Reignier, half ready and half unready.

Alan. How now, my Lords? what, all unready fo? Baft. Unready? I, and glad we 'fcap'd fo well. Reig. 'Twas time, I trow, to wake, and leave our Hearing alarums at our chamber-doors. [beds,

Alan. Of all exploits, fince first I follow'd arms, Ne'er heard I of a warlike enterprise

More venturous or desperate than this.'

Baft. I think this Talbot is a fiend of hell.

Reig. If not of hell, the heav'ns, fure, favour him. Alan. Here cometh Charles, I marvel how he fped. Enter Dauphin and Joan.

Baft. Tut! holy Joan was his defenfive guard.

VOL. IV.

Y y

Dau

Dau. 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 might be ten times as much?
Pucel. Wherefore is Charles impatient with his friend?
At all times will you have my pow'r 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 mifchief never cou'd have fall'n.
Dau. Duke of Alanfon, this was your default,
That, being captain of the watch to-night,
Did look no better to that weighty charge.

Alan. 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.

Dau. And for my self, most 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 firft break in?
Pucel. Queftion my Lords, no further of the cafe,
How, or which way; 'tis fure they found fome part
But weakly guarded, where the breach was made;
And now there refts no other shift but this,
To gather our foldiers, fcatter'd and difpers'd,
And lay new platforms, to indamage them. [Exeunt.

SCENE III. Within the walls of Orleans. Alarm. Enter a Soldier crying, A Talbot! A Talbot! the French fly, leaving their cloaths 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.

Enter Talbot, Bedford, and Burgundy.

[Exit.

Bed. The day begins to break, and night is fled, Whofe pitchy mantle over-veil'd the earth.

Here