That Charles the Dauphin may encounter them.
Sol. Our Sacks fhall be a mean to fack the city,
And we be lords and rulers over Roan;

Therefore we'll knock.

Watch. Qui va là?

Pucel. Paifans, pauvres gens de France.

[Knocks.

Poor market-folks, that come to fell their corn. Watch. Enter, go in, the market-bell is rung. Pucel. Now, Roan, I'll shake thy bulwarks to the ground. [Exeunt.

Enter Dauphin, Baftard, and Alanfon.

Dau. St. Dennis bless this happy ftratagem!
And once again we'll fleep fecure in Roan.
Baft. Here enter'd Pucelle, and her practisants :
Now she is there, how will fhe specifie
Where is the best and fafeft paffage in?

Reig. By thrusting out a torch from yonder tow'r, Which, once difcern'd, fhews, that her meaning is, No way to that (for weakness) which she enter❜d.

Enter Joan la Pucelle on the top, thrusting out a torch burning.

Pucel. Behold, this is the happy wedding torch,
That joineth Roan unto her countrymen;
But burning fatal to the Talbotites.

Baft. See, noble Charles, the beacon of our friend, The burning torch in yonder turret stands.

Dau. Now fhines it like a comet of revenge,

A prophet to the fall of all our foes.

Reig. Defer no time, delays have dangerous ends; Enter and cry, The Dauphin! presently,

And then do execution on the Watch.

[An Alarm; Talbot in an Excurfion.

Tal. France, thou fhalt rue this treason with thy tears.

If Talbot but furvive thy treachery.

Pucelle, that witch, that damned forcerefs,

Hath

Hath wrought this hellish mischief unawares;
That hardly we efcap'd the pride of France. [Exit.

An alarm: Excurfions. Bedford brought in, fick, in a chair. Enter Talbot and Burgundy, without; within, Joan la Pucelle, Dauphin, Baftard, and Reignier, on the walls.

Pucel. Good morrow, gallants, want ye corn for
bread?

I think, the Duke of Burgundy will faft,
Before he'll buy again at fuch a rate.

'Twas full of darnel; do you like the taste?

Burg. Scoff on, vile fiend, and fhameless curtizan ! I truft, ere long to choak thee with thine own; And make thee curfe the harvest of that corn.

Dau. Your grace may ftarve, perhaps, before that time.

Bed. Oh let not words, but deeds, revenge this treafon! Pucel. What will you do, good grey-beard? break a lance,

And run a'tilt at death within a chair?

Tal. Foul fiend of France, and hag of all defpight, Incompass'd with thy luftful paramours, Becomes it thee to taunt his valiant age, And twit with cowardife a man half dead? Damfel, I'll have a bout with you again, Or elfe let Talbot perifh with his fhame.

1 That hardly we efcap'd the pride of France. ] Pride fignifies the haughty power. The fame speaker fays afterwards, Act 4, Scene 6.

And from the pride of Gallia refcu'd thee.

One would think this plain enough. But what won't a puzzling critic obfcure! Mr.Theobald fays, Pride of France is an abfurd and unmeaning expreffion, and therefore alters it to Prixe of France; and in this is followed by the Oxford Editor.

VOL. IV.

li

Pucel

Pucel. Are you fo hot? yet, Pucelle, hold thy Peace; If Talbot do but thunder, rain will follow.

[They whisper together in counsel. God speed the parliament! who shall be the speaker? Tal. Dare ye come forth, and meet us in the field ? Pucel. Belike, your lordship takes us then for fools, To try if that our own be ours, or no.

Tal. I fpeak not to that railing Hecate,
But unto thee, Alanfon, and the rest.

Will ye, like foldiers, come and fight it out?
Alan. Seignior, no.

Tal. Seignior, hang:bafe muleteers of France?
Like peasant foot-boys do they keep the walls,
And dare not take up arms like gentlemen.

Pucel. Captains, away; let's get us from the walls, For Talbot means no goodness by his looks.

God be wi' you, my lord: we came, Sir, but to tell you
That we are here.
[Exeunt from the walls.
Tal. And there will we be too, ere it be long,
Or elfe reproach be Talbot's greatest fame!
Vow, Burgundy, by honour of thy House,
Prick'd on by publick wrongs fuftain'd in France,
Either to get the town again, or die.
And I, as fure as English Henry lives,
And as his father here was Conqueror,
As fure as in this late-betrayed town
Great Caurdelion's heart was buried;
So fure I fwear, to get the town, or die.

Burg. My vows are equal partners with thy vows.
Tal. But ere we go, regard this dying Prince,
The valiant Duke of Bedford: come, my lord,
We will bestow you in fome better place;
Fitter for ficknefs, and for crazy age.

Bed. Lord Talbot, do not so dishonour me:
Here I will fit before the walls of Roan,
And will be partner of your weal and woe.

Burg. Couragious Bedford, let us now perfuade you.

Bed.

Bed. Not to be gone from hence: for once I read,
That ftout Pendragon, in his litter fick,
Came to the field, and vanquished his foes.
Methinks, I fhould revive the foldiers' hearts;
Because I ever found them as my felf.

Tal. Undaunted fpirit in a dying breaft!
Then be it fo: heav'ns keep old Bedford fafe!
And now no more ado, brave Burgundy,
But gather we our forces out of hand,
And fet upon our boafting enemy.

[Exit.

An alarm: excurfions: Enter Sir John Faftolfe, and a Captain.

Cap. Whither away, Sir John Faftolfe, in fuch hafte? Faft. Whither away? to fave my felf by flight. We are like to have the overthrow again.

Cap. What! will you fly, and leave lord Talbot? Faft. Ay, all the Talbots in the world to fave my life.

[Exit. Cap. Cowardly Knight, ill fortune follow thee! [Exit. Retreat: excurfions. Pucelle, Alanfon, and Dauphin fly.

Bed. Now, quiet foul, depart when heav'n fhall pleafe;

For I have feen our enemies' overthrow.
What is the truft or ftrength of foolish man?
They, that of late were daring with their fcoffs,
Are glad and fain by flight to fave themfelves.

[Dies; and is carried off in his chair:

An Alarm: Enter Talbot, Burgundy, and the rest.

Tal. LOST and recover'd in a day again?

This is a double honour, Burgundy;

Yet, heav'ns have glory for this victory!
Burg. Warlike and martial Talbot, Burgundy
Infhrines thee in his heart; and there erects
Thy noble deeds, as Valour's monuments.

Tal. Thanks, gentle Duke; but where is Pucelle now?

I think, her old Familiar is asleep.

Now where's the Bastard's braves, and 2 Charles his glikes?

What, all a-mort? Roan hangs her head for grief; That such a valiant company are fled.

Now we will take fome order in the town,

Placing therein fome expert officers,

And then depart to Paris to the King;
For there young Henry with his Nobles lyes.

Burg. What wills lord Talbot, pleaseth Burgundy.
Tal. But yet before we go, let's not forget
The noble Duke of Bedford, late deceas'd;
But fee his exequies fulfill'd in Roan.
A braver foldier never couched lance,
A gentler heart did never fway in Court.
But Kings and mightiest Potentates must die,
For that's the end of human mifery.

S C E NE VII.

[Exeunt.

Enter Dauphin, Baftard, Alanson, and Joan la Pucelle.

Pucel. Difmay not, Princes, at this accident, Nor grieve that Roan is fo recovered.

2

Charles his glikes?] Glikes or fcoffs.

Mr. Pope.

Care