it out.

Puc. Assign'd am I to be the English scourge.
This night the siege assuredly I'll raise:
Expect Saint Martin's summer,' halcyon days,
Since I have entered into these wars.
Glory is like a circle in the water,
Which never ceaseth to enlarge itself,
Till, by broad spreading, it disperse to nought.
With Henry's death, the English circle ends;
Dispersed are the glories it included.
Now am I like that proud insulting ship,
Which Cæsar and his fortune bare at once.

Char. Was Mahomet inspired with a dove?
Though with an eagle art inspired then.
Helen, the mother of great Constantine,

Nor yet Saint Philip's daughters,2 were like thee.
Bright star of Venus, fall'n down on the earth,
How may I reverently worship thee enough?

Alen. Leave off delays, and let us raise the siege. Reig. Woman, do what thou canst to save our honours;

Drive them from Orleans, and be immortaliz'd.
Char. Presently we'll try:-Come, let's away

about it:

No prophet will I trust, if she prove false. [Exc. SCENE III-London. Hill before the Tower. Enter, at the gates, the Duke of Gloster, with his serving-men in blue coats.

Glo. I am come to survey the Tower this day; Since Henry's death, I fear, there is conveyance. Where be these warders, that they wait not here? Open the gates; Gloster it is that calls.

[Servants knock. 1 Ward. [Within.] Who is there that knocks so imperiously?

Serv. It is the noble duke of Gloster.

2 Ward. [Within.] Whoe'er he be, you may

not be let in.

1 Serv. Answer you so the lord protector, villains? 1 Ward. [Within.] The Lord protect him! so we answer him:

We do no otherwise than we are will'd.

Glo. Who willed you? or whose will stands but mine?

There's none protector of the realm, but I.Break up the gates, I'll be your warrantize : Shall I be flouted thus by dunghill grooms? Servants rush at the Tower gates. Enter, to the gates, Woodville, the lieutenant. Wood. [Within.] What noise is this? what traitors have we here?

(1) Expect prosperity after misfortune.

(2) Meaning the four daughters of Philip, mentioned in Acts xxi. 9.

Glo. Lieutenant, is it you, whose voice I hear? Open the gates; here's Gloster, that would enter. Wood. Within.] Have patience, noble duke: I may not open:

The cardinal of Winchester forbids:
From him I have express commandment,
That thou, nor none of thine, shall be let in.

Glo. Faint-hearted Woodville, prizest him 'fore me? Arrogant Winchester? that haughty prelate, Whom Henry, our late sovereign, ne'er could brook?

Thou art no friend to God, or to the king:
Open the gates, or I'll shut thee out shortly.

1 Serv. Open the gates unto the lord protector; Or we'll burst them open, if that you come not quickly.

Enter Winchester, attended by a train of servants,

in tawny-coats.

Win. How now, ambitious Humphrey? what means this?

Glo. Piel'd priest,' dost thou command me to be shut out?

Win. I do, thou most usurping proditor,
And not protector of the king or realm.

Glo. Stand back, thou manifest conspirator,
Thou that contriv'dst to murder our dead lord;
Thou, that giv'st whores indulgences to sin:
I'll canvass thee in thy broad cardinal's hat,
If thou proceed in this thy insolence.

Win. Nay, stand thou back, I will not budge a foot;

This be Damascus, be thou cursed Cain,
To slay thy brother Abel, if thou wilt.

Glo. I will not slay thee, but I'll drive thee back'
Thy scarlet robes, as a child's bearing-cloth,
I'll use to carry thee out of this place.

Win. Do what thou dar'st; I beard thee to thy face.

Glo. What? am I dar'd, and bearded to my face?

Draw, men, for all this privileged place; Blue-coats to tawny-coats. Priest, beware you beard:

[Gloster and his men attack the bishop I mean to tug it, and to cuff you soundly: Under my feet I stamp thy cardinal's hat; In spite of pope or dignities of church, Here by the cheeks I'll drag thee up and down.

Win. Gloster, thou'lt answer this before the pope
Glo. Winchester goose, I cry-a rope! a rope!-
Now beat them hence, why do you let them stay?-
Thee I'll chase hence, thou wolf in sheep's array.-
Out, tawney-coats !-out, scarlet hypocrite!
Here a great tumult. In the midst of it, enter
the Mayor of London, and officers.
May. Fie, lords that you, being supreme ma
gistrates,

Thus contumeliously should break the peace!
Glo. Peace, mayor; thou knowest little of my

wrongs:

Here's Beaufort, that regards nor God nor king Hath here distrain'd the Tower to his use.

Win. Here's Gloster too, a foe to citizens: One that still motions war, and never peace, O'ercharging your free purses with large fines; That secks to overthrow religion.

(3) Theft. (4) Break open. (5) Alluding to his shaven crown. (6) Traitor (7) Sin. (8) A strumpet. (9) An allusion to the bishop's habit.

Play on the lute, beholding the towns burn:
Wretched shall France be only in my name.

[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,' do phin 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.

thee.

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
[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.
Puc. Talbot, farewell; thy hour is not yet come:
I must go victual Orleans forthwith.

O'ertake me, if thou canst; I scorn thy strength.
Go, go; cheer up thy hunger-starved men;
Help Salisbury to make his testament:
This day is ours, as many more shall be.

[Pucelle enters the town, with soldiers. 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 she lists;
So bees with smoke, and doves with noisome stench,
Are from their hives, and houses, driven away.
They called 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 leopard,
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. Excunt Talbot and nis
forces, &c.

SCENE VI. The same. Enter, on the walls, Pucelle, Charles, Reignier, Alençon, and soldiers.

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, How shall I honour thee for this success? 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 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 shall hear how we have played 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-jewel'd 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. [Flourish. Eze.

ACT II.

SCENE I.-The same. Enter, to the gates, a French Sergeant, and two Sentinels.

Serg. Sirs, take your places, and be vigilant: If any noise, or soldier, you perceive, Near to the walls, by some apparent sign, Let us have knowledge at the court of guard. 1 Sent. Sergeant, you shall. [Exit Serg.] Thus are poor servitors

3

(When others sleep upon their quiet beds,) Constrain'd to watch in darkness, rain, and cold. Enter Talbot, Bedford, Burgundy, and forces, with scaling-ladders; their drums beating a dead march.

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, 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 sorcery.

(3) The same as guard-room.

Will turn unto a peaceful comic sport,
When ladies crave to be encounter'd with.-
You may not, my lord, despise her gentle suit.
Tal. Ne'er trust me then; for, when a world of

men

Could not prevail with all their oratory,
Yet hath a woman's kindness over-rul'd:-
And therefore tell her, I return great thanks;
And in submission will attend on her.-
Will not your honours bear me company?

Bed. No, truly; it is more than manners will:
And I have heard it said,-Unbidden guests
Are often welcomest when they are gone.

Tal. Well then, alone, since there's no remedy, I mean to prove this lady's courtesy. Come hither, captain. [Whispers.]-You perceive my mind.

Cap. I do, my lord; and mean accordingly.

[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 Thomyris by Cyrus' death. Great is the rumour of this dreadful knight, And his achievements of no less account; Fain would mine eyes be witness with mine ears, To give their censure' of these rare reports. Enter Messenger and Talbot.

Mess. Madam, it is. Count.

Is this the scourge of France?
Is this the Talbot, so much fear'd abroad,
That with his name the mothers still their babes?
I see, report is fabulous and false,

I thought, I should have seen some Hercules,
A second Hector, for his grim aspéct,

And large proportion of his strong-knit limbs.
Alas! this is a child, a silly dwarf:

It cannot be, this weak and writhled2 shrimp,
Should strike such terror to his enemies.

Tal. Madam, I have been bold to trouble you:
But since your ladyship is not at leisure,
Fll sort some other time to visit you.

Count. What means he now?-Go ask him whither he goes?

Mess. Stay, my lord Talbot: for my lady craves To know the cause of your abrupt departure. 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. Tal. Prisoner! to whom? Count. 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,

Tal. I laugh to see your ladyship so fond,'
To think that you have aught but Talbot's shadow,
Whereon to practise your severity.

Count. Why, art not thou the man?
Tal.

I am indeed. Count. Then have I substance too.

Tal. No, no, I am but shadow of myself: You are deceiv'd, my substance is not here; For what you see, is but the smallest part And least proportion of humanity:

I

tell you, madam, were the whole frame here, It is of such a spacious lofty pitch,

Your roof were not sufficient to contain it.
Count. This is a riddling merchant for the
nonce ;4

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 heard; then a peal of
ordnance. The gates being forced, enter soldiers.
That Talbot is but shadow of himself?
How say you, madam? are you now persuaded,

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.

The mind of Talbot, as you did mistake
Tal. Be not dismay'd, fair lady; nor misconstrue
The outward composition of his body.
What you have done, hath not offended me:
No other satisfaction do I crave,

But only (with your patience,) that we may
Taste of your wine, and see what cates you have;
For soldiers' stomachs always serve them well.

Count. With all my heart: and think me honoured To feast so great a warrior in my house. [Exeunt. SCENE IV.-London.

The Temple Garden. Enter the Earls of Somerset, Suffolk, and Warwick; Richard Plantagenet, Vernon, and another Lawyer.

Plan. Great lords, and gentlemen, what means

this silence?

Dare no man answer in a case of truth?
Suff. 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?
Suff. 'Faith, I have been a truant in the law;
And never yet could frame my will to it;
And, therefore, frame the law unto my will.
Som. Judge you, my lord of Warwick, then
between us.

War. Between two hawks, which flies the higher pitch;

Between two dogs, which hath the deeper mouth,
Between two blades, which bears the better temper;
Between two horses, which doth bear him best;
Between two girls, which hath the merriest eye;
I have, perhaps, some shallow spirit of judginent;