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The scarecrow that affrights our children so.
To hurl at the beholders of my shame.
So great fear of my name 'mongst them was spread
That they suppos'd I could rend bars of steel
Enter the Boy with a linstock.
Sal. I grieve to hear what torments you endur'd;
But we will be reveng'd sufficiently.
Here, through this grate, I count each one
Where is best place to make our battery 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 see, this city must be famish'd Or with light skirmishes enfeebled.
Here they shoot. SALISBURY and Sir THOMAS GARGRAVE fall. Sal. O Lord! have mercy on us, wretched
Gar. O Lord! have mercy on me, woeful man. Tal. What chance is this that suddenly hath cross'd us?
Speak, Salisbury; at least, if thou canst speak:
Accursed tower! accursed fatal hand
One eye thou hast to look to heaven for grace:
He beckons with his hand and smiles on me,
An alarum; it thunders and lightens. What stir is this? what tumult's in the heavens? Whence cometh this alarum and the noise ?
SCENE V.-The Same. Before one of the Gates. Alarum. Skirmishings. TALBOT pursues the DAUPHIN, drives him in and exit: then enter JOAN 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; A woman clad in armour chaseth them.
Re-enter JOAN LA PUCELLE.
Here, here she comes. I'll have a bout with thee;
Devil, or devil's dam, I'll conjure thee:
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.
Joan. Talbot, farewell; thy hour is not yet
It will not be retire into your trenches:
In spite of us or aught that we could do.
SCENE VI.-The Same.
Flourish. Enter, on the walls, JOAN LA PUCELLE,
Cha. Divinest creature, Astræa's daughter,
Dauphin, command the citizens make bonfires
For which I will divide my crown with her;
SCENE I.-Before Orleans.
Enter to the gates, a French Sergeant, and two
Tal. Lord Regent, and redoubted Burgundy, By whose approach the regions of Artois, Walloon, and Picardy, are friends to us,
This happy night the Frenchmen are secure,
Serg. Sirs, take your places and be vigilant.
a dead march.
As fitting best to quittance their deceit
Bed. Coward of France! how much he wrongs
Despairing of his own arm's fortitude,
A maid, and be so martial!
Tal. Well, let them practise and converse with
God is our fortress, in whose conquering name
Bed. Ascend, brave Talbot; we will follow thee.
The other yet may rise against their force.
Hearing alarums at our chamber-doors.
Alen. Of all exploits since first I follow'd arms.
Bast. I think this Talbot be a fiend of hell.
Alen. Here cometh Charles: I marvel how he sped.
Bast. Tut! holy Joan was his defensive guard.
Enter CHARLES and JOAN LA PUCELLE
Cha. Is this thy cunning, thou deceitful dame!
Now, Salisbury, for thee, and for the right
The English scale the walls, crying 'Saint George !'
Sent. Within. Arm, arm! the enemy doth
The French leap over the walls in their shirts. Enter, several ways, the Bastard of ORLEANS, ALENCON, 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. Reij. 'Twas time, I trow, to wake and leave our beds,
Sleeping or waking must I still prevail,
Cha. Duke of Alençon, this was your default.
Did look no better to that weighty charge.
And so was mine, my lord.
But weakly guarded, where the breach was made.
Tal. Bring forth the body of old Salisbury, And here advance it in the market-place, The middle centre of this cursed town. Now have I paid my vow unto his soul; For every drop of blood was drawn from him There hath at least five Frenchmen died to-night. And that hereafter ages may behold What ruin happen'd in revenge of him, Within their chiefest temple I'll erect A tomb wherein his corpse shall be interr'd: Upon the which, that every one may read, Shall be engrav'd the sack of Orleans, The treacherous manner of his mournful death, And what a terror he had been to France. But, lords, in all our bloody massacre,
I muse we met not with the Dauphin's grace, His new-come champion, virtuous Joan of Arc, Nor any of his false confederates.
Bed. 'Tis thought, Lord Talbot, when the fight began,
Rous'd on the sudden from their drowsy beds, They did amongst the troops of armed men Leap o'er the walls for refuge in the field.
Bur. Myself, as far as I could well discern For smoke and dusky vapours of the night, Am sure I scar'd the Dauphin and his trull, When arm in arm they both came swiftly running, Like to a pair of loving turtle-doves That could not live asunder day or night. After that things are set in order here, We'll follow them with all the power we have.
Enter a Messenger. Mess. All hail, my lords! princely train
Which of this
Call ye the war-like Talbot, for his acts
Mess. The virtuous lady, Countess of Auvergne, With modesty admiring thy renown, By me entreats, great lord, thou would'st vouch
To visit her poor castle where she lies,
Bur. Is it even so? Nay, then, I see our wars
Could not prevail with all their oratory,
Whispers. You perceive my mind. Cap. I do, my lord, and mean accordingly. 60 Exeunt.
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
As Scythian Tomyris by Cyrus' death.
Mess. Stay, my Lord Talbot; for my lady
To know the cause of your abrupt departure 30
Re-enter Porter with keys.
Count. If thou be he, then art thou prisoner. Tal. Prisoner! to whom?
To me, blood-thirsty lord; And for that cause I train'd thee to my house. Long time thy shadow hath been thrall to me, For in my gallery thy picture hangs: But now the substance shall endure the like, And I will chain these legs and arms of thine, That hast by tyranny these many years Wasted our country, slain our citizens, And sent our sons and husbands captivate. Tal. Ha, ha, ha!
Count. Laughest thou, wretch? thy mirth shall
turn to moan.
Tal. I laugh to see your ladyship so fond To think that you have aught but Talbot's
Whereon to practise your severity.
He will be here, and yet he is not here: How can these contrarieties agree?
Tal. That will I show you presently.
He winds his horn. Drums strike up; a peal of ordnance. The gates being forced, enter Soldiers.
SCENE IV. London. The Temple Garden. Enter the Earls of SOMERSET, SUFFOLK, and WARWICK; RICHARD PLANTAGENET, VERNON, and a Lawyer.
Plan. Great lords and gentlemen, what means this silence?
Dare no man answer in a case of truth?
Suf. Within the Temple hall we were too loud; The garden here is more convenient.
Plan. Then say at once if I maintain'd the truth,
Or else was wrangling Somerset in the error?
War. Between two hawks, which flies the higher pitch;
Between two dogs, which hath the deeper mouth; Between two blades, which bears the better
Between two horses, which doth bear him best; Between two girls, which hath the merriest eye; I have perhaps some shallow spirit of judgment; But in these nice sharp quillets of the law, Good faith, I am no wiser than a daw.
Plan. Tut, tut! here is a mannerly forbearance: The truth appears so naked on my side That any purblind eye may find it out.
Som. And on my side it is so well apparell'd,
In dumb significants proclaim your thoughts:
Som. Let him that is no coward nor no flatterer, But dare maintain the party of the truth, Pluck a red rose from off this thorn with me.
On any plot of ground in Christendom.
Plan. My father was attached, not attainted, Condemn'd to die for treason, but no traitor; And that I'll prove on better men than Somerset, Were growing time once ripen'd to my will. For your partaker Pole and you yourself, I'll note you in my book of memory, To scourge you for this apprehension : Look to it well and say you are well warn'd.
Som. Ah, thou shalt find us ready for thee still, And know us by these colours for thy foes; For these my friends in spite of thee shall
War. This blot that they object against your house
Shall be wip'd out in the next parliament,
Plan. Good Master Vernon, I am bound to you, That you on my behalf would pluck a flower. Ver. In your behalf still will I wear the same. Law. And so will I.
Plan. Thanks, gentle sir. Come, let us four to dinner: I dare say This quarrel will drink blood another day.
SCENE V. The Tower of London. Enter MORTIMER, brought in a chair by two Gaolers.
Mor. Kind keepers of my weak decaying age, Let dying Mortimer here rest himself. Even like a man new haled from the rack, So fare my limbs with long imprisonment; And these grey 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 burdening 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,
We sent unto the temple, unto 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, Depriv'd of honour and inheritance: But now the arbitrator of despairs, Just death, kind umpire of men's miseries, With sweet enlargement doth dismiss me hence. I would his troubles likewise were expir'd, That so he might recover what was lost.
Enter RICHARD PLANTAGENET. First Gaol. 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 despised Richard, comes. Mor. Direct mine arms I may embrace his neck, And in his bosom spend my latter gasp: