That hath contrived this woful tragedy! In thirteen battles Salisbury o'ercame; Henry the Fifth he first train'd to the wars; One eye thou hast, to look to heaven for grace: gone, He beckons with his hand and smiles on me, 90 [Here an alarum, and it thunders and lightens. 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, 101 A holy prophetess new risen up, Is come with a great power to raise the siege. [Here Salisbury lifteth himself up and groans. Tal. Hear, hear how dying Salisbury doth groan! Your hearts I'll stamp out with my horse's heels, And then we'll try what these dastard Frenchmen dare. [Alarum. Exeunt. Scene V. The same. Here an alarum again: and Talbot pursueth the Dauphin, and driveth him: then enter Joan La Pucelle, driving Englishmen before her, and exit after them: then reenter 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 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 servest. Puc. Come, come, 'tis only I that must disgrace thee. [Here they fight. Tal. Heavens, can you suffer hell so to prevail? [They fight again. Puc. Talbot, farewell; thy hour is not yet come : [A short alarum: then enter the town O'ertake me, if thou canst; I scorn thy strength. Help Salisbury to make his testament: This day is ours, as many more shall be. [Exit. Tal. My thoughts are whirled like a potter's wheel; I know not where I am, nor what I do : 20 A witch, by fear, not force, like Hannibal, [A short alarum. Hark, countrymen! either renew the fight, As you fly from your oft-subdued slaves. Here another skirmish. It will not be retire into your trenches : In spite of us or aught that we could do. The shame hereof will make me hide my head. Scene VI. The same. Enter, on the walls, La Pucelle, Charles, Reignier, Puc. Advance our waving colours on the walls; Thus Joan la Pucelle hath perform'd her word. That one day bloom'd and fruitful were the next. ΙΟ More blessed hap did ne'er befall our state. Reig. Why ring not out the bells aloud 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 play'd the men. Char. 'Tis Joan, not we, by whom the day is won; For which I will divide my crown with her, |