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. Assigned 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;
Disperséd are the glories it included.
Now am I like that proud insulting ship
Which Cæsar and his fortune bare at once.
Char. Was Mahomet inspiréd with a dove?
Thou with an eagle art inspiréd, then.
Helen, the mother of great Constantine,
Nor yet Saint 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 immortalised. Char. Presently we'll try.-Come, let's away about it:

No prophet will I trust, if she prove false.

[Exeunt.

SCENE III.-London. Hill before the Tower.

Enter, at the gates, the DUKE OF Gloster, with

his Serving-men, in blue coats.

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: it is Gloster that calls.

[Servants knock. 1st Ward. [within.] Who's there that knocks so imperiously?

1st Serv. It is the noble Duke of Gloster. 2nd Ward. [within.] Whoe'er he be, we may not let him in.

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

1st Ward. [within.] The Lord protect him! So we answer him.

We do no otherwise than we are willed.

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?

Servants 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 commandment
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. 1st Serv. Open the gates unto the lord protector,

Or we'll burst them open if that you come not quickly.

Enter WINCHESTER, attended by a Train of Servants in tawny coats.

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

Glo. Peeled 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 canvas 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 beard thee to thy face.

Glo. What am I dared and bearded to my face?

Draw, men, for all this privilegéd place : Blue-coats to tawny-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! a rope!

Now beat them hence: why do you let them stay?—

Thee I'll chase hence, thou wolf in sheep's array.

Out, tawny coats! out, scarlet hypocrite!

Here a great tumult. In the midst of it, enter.

the Mayor of London and Officers.

May. Fie, lords, that you, being supreme magistrates,

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 distrained 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.

Officer reads.

"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

SCENE IV.-France. Before Orleans.

Enter, on the walls, the Master-Gunner and his Son.

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

And how the English have the suburbs won.

Son. Father, I know; and oft have shot at them,
Howe'er, unfortunate, I missed my aim.
M. Gun. But now thou shalt not: be thou ruled
by me.

Chief master-gunner am I of this town:
Something I must do to procure me grace.
The prince's espials have informéd me
How the English, in the suburbs close intrenched,
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 placed;
And fully even these three days have I watched
If I could see them:

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. [Exil.
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 returned! How wert thou handled, being prisoner; Or by what means gott'st thou to be released? Discourse, I pr'y thee, on this turret's top.

Tal. The Duke of Bedford had a prisoner Called the brave Lord Ponton de Santrailles : For him I was exchanged and ransoméd. But with a baser man of arms by far, Once, in contempt, they would have bartered me: Which I disdaining scorned, and cravéd death Rather than I would be so pil'd esteemed. In fine, redeemed I was as I desired. But O the treacherous Fastolfe wounds my Whom with my bare fists I would execute, If now I had him brought into my power. Sal. Yet tell'st thou not how thou wort entertained.

heart!

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 scarecrow that affrights our children so!" Then broke I from the officers that led me,

And with my nails digged 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 deemed me not secure :
So great fear of my name 'mongst them was
spread,

That they supposed I could rend bars of steel,
And spurn in pieces posts of adamant:
Wherefore a guard of chosen shot I had,
That walked 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 endured;

But we will be revenged sufficiently.
Now it is supper-time in Orleans:

Here, thorough 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 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 famished, Or with light skirmishes enfeebled.

[Shot from the Town, SALISBURY and SIR THOMAS GARGRAVE fall. Sal. 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 crossed 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!-

Accurséd tower! accurséd fatal hand
That hath contrived this woeful tragedy!
In thirteen battles Salisbury o'ercame :
Henry the fifth he first trained 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!-

Mess. My lord, my lord, the French have gathered head:

The Dauphin, with one Joan la Pucelle joined (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 revenged.-
Frenchmen, I'll be a Salisbury to you:
Pucelle or puzzle, 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.

Tul. 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-starvéd 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 whirléd 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 called 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-subduéd 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 re-

venge.

Pucelle is entered 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, ALENCON, and Soldiers.

Puc. Advance our waving colours on the walls; Rescued is Orleans from the English wolves!— Thus Joan la Pucelle hath performed her word. Char. Divinest creature, bright Astrea's daughter,

How shall I honour thee for this success?
Thy promises are like Adonis' gardens,
That one day bloomed, and fruitful were the
next.-

France, triumph in thy glorious prophetess!
Recovered is the town of Orleans:
More blessed hap did ne'er befal our state.

Reig. Why ring not out the bells aloud through

out 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 played 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-jewelled 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.

SCENE I.-France. Gates of Orleans.

Enter a French Sergeant and two Sentinels. Serg. Sirs, take your places and be vigilant: If any noise or soldier you perceive Near to the walls, by some apparent sign Let us have knowledge at the court of guard.

1st Sent. Sergeant, you shall. [Exit Sergeant. -Thus are poor servitors

(When others sleep upon their quiet beds) Constrained to watch in darkness, rain, and cold.

Enter TALBOT, BEDFORD, BURGUNDY, and Forces, with scaling ladders; their drums beating a dead march.

Tal. Lord Regent, and redoubted Burgundy (By whose approach the regions of Artois, Walloon, and Picardy, are friends to us), This happy night the Frenchmen are secure, Having all day caroused and banqueted: Embrace we, then, this opportunity, As fitting best to quittance their deceit,

Contrived by art and baleful sorcery.

Bed. Coward of France! how much he wrongs

his fame,

Despairing of his own arm's fortitude,
To join with witches and the help of hell.

Bur. Traitors have never other company.

But what's that Pucelle whom they term so pure? Tal. A maid, they say.

Bed. A maid and be so martial!

Bur. Pray God she prove not masculine ere long;

If, underneath the standard of the French,
She carry armour as she hath begun.

Tal. Well, let them practise and converse with spirits:

God is our fortress; in whose conquering name Let us resolve to scale their flinty bulwarks.

Bed. Ascend, brave Talbot: we will follow thee. Tal. Not altogether: better far, I guess,

Hearing alarums at our chamber doors.

Alen. Of all exploits, since first I followed arms, Ne'er heard I of a warlike enterprise More venturous or more desperate than this.

Bast. I think this Talbot be a fiend of hell. Reig. If not of hell, the heavens sure favour him. Alen. Here cometh Charles: I marvel how he sped.

Bast. Tut! holy Joan was his defensive guard.

Enter CHARLES and LA PUCelle. Char. Is this thy cunning, thou deceitful dame? Didst thou at first, to flatter us withal, Make us partakers of a little gain, That now our loss might be ten times so much? Puc. Wherefore is Charles impatient with his

friend?

At all times will you have my power alike? Sleeping or waking must I still prevail,