In single combat thou shalt buckle with me,
And, if thou vanquishest, thy words are true;
Otherwise, I renounce all confidence.

Puc. I am prepar'd. Here is my keen-edg'd sword,

Deck'd with five flower-de-luces on each side; The which at Touraine, in Saint Katharine's churchyard,

Out of a great deal of old iron I chose forth.

Char. Then, come o' God's name: I fear no

woman.

Puc. And, while I live, I'll ne'er fly from a man. [They fight, and JOAN LA PUCELLE overcomes.

Char. Stay, stay thy hands! thou art an Amazon, And fightest with the sword of Deborah. Puc. Christ's mother helps me, else I were too weak.

Char. Whoe'er helps thee, 'tis thou that must help me.

Impatiently I burn with thy desire;

My heart and hands thou hast at once subdued.
Excellent Pucelle, if thy name be so,
Let me thy servant, and not sovereign, be:
'Tis the French Dauphin sueth to thee thus.

Puc. I must not yield to any rites of love,
For my profession's sacred, from above:

When I have chased all thy foes from hence,
Then will I think upon a recompense.

Char. Mean time look gracious on thy prostrate thrall.

Reig. My lord, methinks, is very long in talk. Alen. Doubtless he shrives this woman to her smock,

Else ne'er could he so long protract his speech. Reig. Shall we disturb him, since he keeps no mean?

Alen. He may mean more than we poor men do know:

These women are shrewd tempters with their tongues.

Reig. My lord, where are you? what devise you on?

Shall we give over Orleans, or no?

Puc. Why, no, I say: distrustful recreants! Fight till the last gasp; I will be your guard. Char. What she says, I'll confirm: we'll fight 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? Thou with an eagle art inspired, then. Helen, the mother of great Constantine, Nor yet St. Philip's daughters 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.

[Exeunt.

SCENE III.-London. Tower Hill. Enter, at the Gates, the Duke of GLOSTER, with his Serving-men.

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! 'Tis Gloster that calls. [Servants knock. 1 Ward. [Within.] Who's there, that knocks so imperiously?

1 Serv. It is the noble duke of Gloster.

2 Ward. [Within.] Whoe'er he be, you may not be let in.

1 Serv. Villains, answer you so the lord protector?

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?

GLOSTER'S Men rush at the Tower Gates. Enter, to the Gates, WOODVILLE, the Lieutenant. Wood. [Within.] What noise is this? what traitors have we here?

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 commandement,
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 Servants in tawney coats.

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

Glo. Pill'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'll 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 tawney coats. Priest, beware your 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! u 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 GLOSTER'S Men beat out the Cardinal's Men, and enter in the hurly-burly the Mayor of London and his Officers.

May. Fie, lords! that you, being supreme inagistrates,

Thus contumeliously should break the peace!
Glo.. Peace, mayor! thou know'st 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 seeks to overthrow religion,
Because he is protector of the realm;

And would have armour, here, out of the Tower,
To crown himself king, and suppress the prince.
Glo. I will not answer thee with words, but
blows.
[Here they skirmish again.

May. Nought rests for me, in this tumultuous strife,

But to make open proclamation.

Come, officer: as loud as e'er thou canst cry.

Off. All manner of men, assembled here in arms this day, against God's peace, and the king's, we charge and command you, in his highness' name, to repair to your several dwelling-places; and not to wear, handle, or use, any sword, weapon, or dagger, henceforward, upon pain of death.

Glo. Cardinal, I'll be no breaker of the law; But we shall meet, and break our minds at large. Win. Gloster, we'll meet, to thy dear cost be sure: Thy heart-blood I will have for this day's work. May. I'll call for clubs, if you will not away.This cardinal's more haughty than the devil. Glo. Mayor, farewell: thou dost but what thou may'st.

SCENE IV.-France. Before Orleans. Enter, on the Walls, the Master-Gunner, and his Son.

M. Gun. Sirrah, thou know'st how Orleans is besieg'd,

And how the English have the suburbs won.

Son. Father, I know; and oft have shot at them, Howe'er unfortunate I miss'd my aim.

M. Gun. But now thou shalt not. Be thou rul'd by me:

Chief master-gunner am I of this town;
Something I must do to procure me grace.
The prince's espials have informed me,

How the English, in the suburbs close intrench'd,
Wont, through a secret grate of iron bars

In yonder tower, to overpeer the city;

And thence discover, how, with most advantage,
They may vex us with shot, or with assault.
To intercept this inconvenience,

A piece of ordnance 'gainst it I have plac'd;
And even these three days have I watched,
If I could see them.

[Erit

Now, do thou watch, for I can stay no longer.
If thou spy'st any, run and bring me word,
And thou shalt find me at the governor's.
Son. Father, I warrant you; take you no care:
I'll never trouble you, if I may spy them.
Enter, in an upper Chamber of a Tower, the Lord
SALISBURY, and TALBOT; Sir WILLIAM GLANS-
DALE, Sir THOMAS GARGRAVE, and others.

Sal. Talbot, my life, my joy! again return'd?
How wert thou handled, being prisoner,
Or by what means got'st thou to be releas'd,
Discourse, I pr'ythee, on this turret's top.

Tal. The duke of Bedford had a prisoner, Called the brave lord Ponton de Santrailes; For him I was exchang'd and ransomed. But with a baser man of arms by far, Once, in contempt, they would have barter'd me: Which I, disdaining, scorn'd; and craved death,

Rather than I would be so vile-esteem'd:.
In fine, redeem'd I was as I desir'd.

But, O! the treacherous Fastolfe wounds my heart:
Whom with my bare fists I would execute,
If I now had him brought into my power.

Sal. Yet tell'st thou not, how thou wert entertain'd.

Tal. With scoffs, and scorns, and contumelious

taunts.

In open market-place produced they me,
To be a public spectacle to all:

Here, said they, is the terror of the French,
The scare-crow that affrights our children so.
Then broke I from the officers that led me,
And with my nails digg'd stones out of the ground,
To hurl at the beholders of my shame.
My grisly countenance made others fly;
None durst come near for fear of sudden death.
In iron walls they deem'd me not secure ;

So great fear of my name 'mongst them was spread,
That they suppos'd I could rend bars of steel,
And spurn in pieces posts of adamant.
Wherefore a guard of chosen shot I had,
That walk'd about me every minute-while,
And if I did but stir out of my bed,
Ready they were to shoot me to the heart.

Sal. I grieve to hear what torments you endur'd,
But we will be reveng'd sufficiently.
Now, it is supper-time in Orleans:

Here, through this grate, I count each one,
And view the Frenchmen how they fortify:
Let us look in; the sight will much delight thee.-
Sir Thomas Gargrave, and Sir William Glansdale,
Let me have your express opinions,

Where is the 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.

[Shot from the Town. SALISBURY, and Sir THOMAS GARGRAVE, fall.

Sal. O Lord! have mercy on us, wretched sin

ners.

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:
How far'st thou, mirror of all martial men?
One of thy eyes, and thy cheek's side struck off!-
Accursed tower! accursed fatal hand,
That hath contriv'd this woeful tragedy!
In thirteen battles Salisbury o'ercame;
Henry the fifth he first train'd to the wars;
Whilst any trump did sound, or drum struck up,
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 sun with one eye vieweth all the world.-
Heaven, be thou gracious to none alive,
If Salisbury wants mercy at thy hands!-
Bear hence his body, I will help to bury it.-
Sir Thomas Gargrave, hast thou any life?
Speak unto Talbot; nay, look up to him.
Salisbury, cheer thy spirit with this comfort;
Thou shalt not die, whiles-

He beckons with his hand, and smiles on me,
As who should say, “When I am dead and gone,
Remember to avenge me on the French."-
Plantagenet, I will; and like thee, Nero,

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

[An alarum; 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,
A holy prophetess, new risen up,

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.-The Same. Before one of the Gates.
Alarum. Skirmishings. TALBOT pursues the
Dauphin, and drives him: 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.

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 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.

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 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 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. Exeunt TALBOT
and his Forces.

SCENE VI.-The Same.

Flourish. Enter on the Walls, PUCELLE, CHARLES, REIGINIER, 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 daugh

ter,

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.
16

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,
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, of 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. Exeunt.