A piece of ordnance 'gainst it I have plac'd;

And fully even these three days have I watch'd,
If I could see them. Now, boy, 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.

[Exit. 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 Lords
Salisbury and Talbot, Sir William Glansdale, 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 Santrailles ;
For him I was exchang'd and ransomed.
But with a baser man of arms by far,

Once, in coutempt, they would have barter'd me:
Which I, disdaining, scorn'd; and craved death,
Rather than I would be so pil'd 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 produc'd they me,

To be a publick 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,

* So stripped of honours.

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 can count every one,
And view the Frenchmen how they fortify;
Let us look in, the sight will mach delight thee.-
Sir Thomas Gargrave, and sir William Glansdale,
Let me have your express opinions,

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 slight skirmishes enfeebled.

[Shot from the town. Salisbury and Sir

Tho. Gargrave fall.

Sul. O Lord, have mercy on us, wretched sinners! 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
His sword did ne'er leave striking in the field.-

up,

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 Nero-like,

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*, 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.

* Dirty wench.

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.

Tul. 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 meu ;
Help Salisbury to make his testament:
This day is ours, as many more shall be.

[Pucelle enters the town, with soldiers.

* The superstition of those times taught, that he who could draw a witch's blood was free from her power.

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 bives, 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 ruu 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, &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.