SCENE X.

Here an alarm again; and Talbot purfueth the Dauphin, anneth him. Then enter Joan la Pucelle driving Eritmen before ber. Then enter Talbot.

Tal. Where is my ftrength, my valour, and my force? Our English troops retire, I cannot stay them: A woman clad in armour, chaseth them.

Enter Pucelle.

Here, here, he 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 ftraightway give thy foul to him thou ferv'ft.
Pucel. Come, come, 'tis only I that must disgrace

thee.

[They fight. Talbot, farewel, thy hour is not yet come;

I must go victual Orleans forthwith.

[hert alarm. Then enter the town with foldiers. O'ertake me if thou canft, I fcorn thy ftrength. Go, go, chear up thy hunger-ftarved men, Help Salisbury to make his teftament : This day is ours, as many more shall be. [Exit Pucelle. 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 the lifts. So bees with fmoak, and doves with noisome stenck, Are from their hives and houfes driv'n away. They call'd us for our fiercenefs English dogs, Now like their whelps we crying run away. A foort alarm, Hark, countrymen ! either renew the fight, Or tear the lions out of England's coat: Renounce your foil, give theep in lions' ftead: Sheep run not half fo tim'rous from the wolf, Or horfe or oxen from the leopard,

* They fight.

Tal. Heaven's, can you fuffer hell fo to prevail?
My breaft I'll burst with firaining of my courage,
And from my shoulders crack my arms alunder,
But I will chafite this high-minded ftrumpet.
Pucel. Talbot, farewel, &c.

u fly from your oft-subdued flaves.

:

[Alarm. Here another fkirmish.

I not be retire into your trenches:
ll confented unto Salisbury's death,
one would strike a ftroke in his revenge.
le is enter'd into Orleans,

ight of us, or ought that we cou'd do.
ould I were to die with Salisbury!

fhame hereof will make me hide my head.

[Exit Talbot.

[Alarm, Retreat, Flourish.

er on the wall, Pucelle, Dauphin, Reignier, Alanfon, and Soldiers.

ucel. Advance our waving colours on the walls, cu'd is Orleans from the English wolves:

Is Joan la Pucelle hath perform'd her word. Dau. Divineft creature, bright Aftrea's daughter, v fhall I honour thee for this fuccefs!

I promises are like Adonis' gardens *,

it one day bloom'd, and fruitful were the next. nce, triumph in thy glorious prophetess ! cover'd is the town of Orleans;

re bleffed hap did ne'er befal our state. Reig.Why ring not out the bells throughout the town? uphin, command the citizens make bonfires,

d feast and banquet in the open streets,

celebrate the joy that God hath giv'n us.

Alan. All France will be replete with mirth and joy, hen they shall hear how we have play'd the men. Dau. 'Tis Joan, not we, by whom the day is won:

The gardens of Adonis were never reprefented under any local deiption, nor is any such thing implied in this place. They were onbeds of earth put into portable cafes of filver or other matter, in bich were raised fuch flowers and herbs as were of quick growth and ort continuance, the production and maturity of them being alfo ftened by artificial means. Upon this quickness of growth the alfion here is founded: though anciendly the gardens of roverbial expreffion to fignity tranfitory Aceting pleafure fo of a light trifling account. See Eraf, adag. Oxford i

17

SCENE I.

Figan and Talbot purfaeth the Dauphin,
Then enter Joan la Pacelle driving

ter. Then enter Talbot.

Where's my ftrength, my valour, and my force)
CE troops retire, I cannot stay them:

A vai armour, chaleth them.

Exter Pucelle.

Free comes. I'll have a bout with thee;

Der devil's dam, I'll conjure thee:

draw on thee, thou art a witch,

Aghway give thy foul to him thou ferv'l.
Fe, come, 'tis only I that mut difgrace
[They fight.

thee.

Tab, firewel, the hour is not yet come;

Image vizal Orleans forthwith.

Clara. Tien enter the town with foldiers.
Cat me a thou cantt, I fcorn thy firength.
G, chear up thy hunger-starved men,

Herbary to make his testament:

Tas dators, as many more fhall be. [Exit Pucelle
Mythoghts are whirled like a potter's wheel

3

I new not where I am, nor what I do:

A with, by tear, not force, like Hannibal,
Drives back our troops, and conquers as the lifts.
So bees with imoak, and doves with noisome fterch,
Are from their hives and houses driv'n away.
They call us for our fiercenefs Englith dogs,
Nowe their whelps we crying run away.

[Abort alarm,

Et, countrymen! either renew the fight,
ert the was out of England's coat:
Recce your foll, give theep in lions' ftead:
Sheep run not half to tim rous from the wolf,
Orbit or crea from the leopard,

Heves, can you foffer hell fo to prevail?

My best 1 il barft with franing of my courage,

Ang mga kelders etck my arms aronder,

what this high-minded fumpet.

Tab, tercat, dc

That on

France,

Recover

More b

Enter a 15%

Lord, my Lord

Willin, with one loan of a

rophetes new rea

a great powe

Here Salisbury

ar, hear, how

heart he cannot be

Salisbury into we'll try what

'ucelle, Dauphin, Reignier, Alann, and Soldiers.

ur waving colours on the walls,
From the English wolves:

le hath perform'd her word.
eature, bright Aftrea's daughter,
thee for this fuccefs!
ke Adonis' gardens *,

n'd, and fruitful were the next.

thy glorious prophetess !

wn of Orleans;

id ne'er befal our state.

ot out the bells throughout the town? d the citizens make bonfires,

quet in the open streets,

by that God hath giv'n us.

e will be replete with mirth and joy, ear how we have play'd the men. not we, by whom the day is won:

is were never reprefented under any local de h thing implied in this place. They were onto portable cafes of filver or other matter, in flowers and herbs as were of quick growth and production and maturity of them being alfo ans. Upon this quicknefs of growth the although anciendly the gardens of Adonifignity tranfitory Aceting pleafures, account. See Eraf, adag, Oxford L

DRAMATIS PERSONE.

The SCENE is partly in England,

Falfaff is introduced again, who was dead in Henry V. a. 2. f. 3. The reafon is, becaufe this play was ritten by Shakespeare betore Henry IV. or V. See the laft lines of Henry V.