How fhall I honour thee for this fuccefs!

Thy promises are like Adonis' garden,

That one day bloom'd, and fruitful were the next. France, triumph in thy glorious prophetess! Recover'd is the town of Orleans;

More bleffed hap did ne'er befall our state.

Reig. Why ring not out the bells throughout, thetown?

Dauphin, command the citizens make bonfires,
And feaft and banquet in the open streets,
To celebrate the joy that God hath giv'n us.
Alan. All France will be replete with mirth and
joy

When they fhall hear how we have play'd the men.
Dau. '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 procellion fing her endless praife.
A ftatelier pyramid to her I'll rear
Than Rhodope's or Memphis' ever was!
In memory of her; when she is dead,
Her afhes in an urn more precious
Than the rich-jewel'd coffer of Darius,
Tranfported fhall be at high festivals,
Before the Kings and Queens of France.
No longer on St Dennis will we cry,
But Joan la Pucelle fhall be France's faint.
Come in, and let us banquet royally

After this golden day of victory. [Flourish. Exeunt.

Enter a Serjeant of a band, with two Centinels.

Serjeant.

Irs, take your places, and be vigilant.
Sif any noife or foldier you perceive

Near to the wall, by fome apparent fign
Let us have knowledge at the court of guard,

Cent. Serjeant, you fhall. [Exit Serjeant.] Thus are poor fervitors,

When others fleep upon their quiet beds,
Conftrain'd to watch in darknefs, rain, and cold.
Enter Talbot, Bedford, and Burgundy, with (caling-
ladders. Their drums beating a dead march.
Tal. Lord Regent, and redoubted Burgundy,
By whofe approach the regions of Artois,
Walloon, and Picardy are friends to us;
This happy night the Frenchmen are fecure,
Having all day carous'd and banquetted:
Embrace we then this opportunity,

As fitting best to quittance their deceit,
Contriv'd by art and baleful forcery.

Bed. Coward of France! how much he wrongs his fame,

Defpairing of his own arms fortitude,

To join with witches and the help of hell!
Bur. Traitors have never other company.
But what's that Pucelle, whom they term fo pure?
Tal. A maid, they say.

Bed. A maid? and be fo martial?

Bur. Pray God fhe prove not mafculine ere long! If underneath the standard of the French She carry armour, as fhe hath begun.

Tal. Well, let them practise and converse with fpirits;

God is our fortrefs, in whofe conqu❜ring name
Let us refolve to fcale their flinty bulwarks.
Bed. Afcend, brave Talbot, we will follow thee.
Tal. Not all together; better far, I guess,
That we do make our entrance feveral ways;
That if it chance the one of us do fail,
The other yet may rise against their force.
Bed. Agreed; I'll to you corner.

Bur. I to this.

Tal. And here will Talbot mount, or make his Now, Salisbury! for thee, and for the right [grave. Of English Henry, shall this night appear How much in duty I am bound to both.

Cent. within.] Arm, arm; the enemy doth make ́affault.

[The English, Scaling the walls, cry, St George-! a Talbot!

The French leap o'er the walls in their firts. Enter, feveral ways, Baftard, Alanfon, Reignier, half ready and half unready.

*

Alan. How now, my Lords? what all unready
*fo?
Baft Unready? ay, and glad we fcap'd fo well.
Reig. 'Twas time, I trow, to wake and leave our
Hearing alarums at our chamber-doors. [beds,
Alan. Of all exploits, fince first I follow'd arms,
Ne'er heard I of a warlike enterprize
More venturous or defperate than this.

Baft. I think this Talbot is a fiend of hell.
Reig. If not of hell, the Heav'ns, fure, favour him.
Alan. Here cometh Charles, I marvel how he sped.
Enter Charles and Joan.

Baft. Tut! holy Joan was his defenfive guard. Char. Is this thy cunning, thou deceitful dame? Didft thou at firft, to flatter us withal,

Make us partakers of a little gain,

That now our lofs might be ten times as much? Puc. Wherefore is Charles impatient with his friend?

At all times will you have my pow'r alike?
Sleeping, or waking, muft I ftill prevail?
Or will you blare and lay the fault on me?
Improvident foldiers, had your watch been good,
This fudden mifchief never could have fall'n.
Char. Duke of Alanfon, this was your default,
That, being captain of the watch to-night,
Did look no better to that weighty charge.
Alan. Had all your quarters been as fafely kept,

Unready was the current word in thofe times for 22dreffed. Johnfon.

As that whereof I had the government,

We had not been thus fhamefully furpriz'd.
Baft. Mine was fecure.

Reig. And fo was mine, my Lord.

Char. And for myself, most part of all this night,
Within her quarter, and mine own precinct,
I was employ'd in pafling to and fro,
About relieving of the centinels.

Then how, or which way, fhould they first break in?
Puc. Queftion, my Lords, no further of the cafe,
How, or which way; 'tis fure they found fome part
But weakly guarded, where the breach was made.
And now there refts no other shift but this,
To gather our foldiers, fcatter'd and difpers'd,
And lay new platforms to endamage them. [Exeunt.

Within the walls of Orleans.

Alarm. Enter a Soldier, crying, a Talbot! a Tal bot! they fly, leaving their cloaths behind.

Sol. I'll be fo bold to take what they have left. The cry of Talbot ferves me for a sword; For I have loaden me with many fpoils, Ufing no other weapon but his name.

[Exit.

Enter Talbot, Bedford, and Burgundy. Bed. The day begins to break, and night is fled, Whose pitchy mantle over-veil'd the earth. Here found retreat, and cease our hot pursuit. [Retreat.

Tal. Bring forth the body of old Salisbury, And here advance it in the market place, The middle centre of this curfed town. Now have I pay'd my vow unto his foul; For ev'ry drop of blood was drawn from him, There have at least five Frenchmen dy'd to-night. And that hereafter ages may behold What ruin happen'd in revenge of him, Within their chiefeft temple I'll erect A tomb wherein his corps shall be interr'dy VOL. VI.

C

Upon the which that every one may read,
Shall be engrav'd the fack of Orleans,

The treach'rous manner of his mournful death,
And what a terror he had been to France.
But, Lords, in all our bloody maffacre,

I muse we inet not with the Dauphin's Grace,
His new-come champion, virtuous Joan of Arc,
Nor any of his falfe confederates.

Bed. 'Tis thought, Lord Talbot, when the fight began,

-Rous'd on the fudden from their drowsy beds,
They did amongst the troops of armed men
Leap o'er the walls, for refuge in the field.
Bur. Myfelf, as far as I could well difcern
For fmoke and dufky vapours of the night,
Am fure I fcar'd the Dauphin and his trull,
When, arm in arm, they both came swiftly running,
Like to a pair of loving turtle-doves,

That could not live afunder day or night.

After that things are fet in order here,

We'll follow them with all the pow'r we have.
Enter a Meffenger.

Meff. All hail, my Lords. Which of this princely Call ye the warlike Talbot, for his acts [train So much applauded through the realm of France? Tal. Here is the Talbot, who would speak with

him?

Mel The virtuous lady, Countefs of Auvergne, With modefty admiring thy renown,

By me intreats, great Lord, thou wouldst vouchfafe
To vifit her poor caftle where the lyes;

That fhe may boaft fhe hath beheld the man
Whofe glory fills the world with loud report.

Bur. Is it ev'n fo? nay, then, I see our wars
Will turn into a peaceful comic fport,
When ladies crave to be encounter'd with.
You can't, my Lord, defpife her gentle fuit.

Tal. Ne'er truft 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;