University of Virginia Library

Actus Primus.

Scœna Prima.

Dead March.
Enter the Funerall of King Henry the Fift, attended on by the Duke of Bedford, Regent of France; the Duke of Gloster, Protector; the Duke of Exeter Warwicke, the Bishop of Winchester, and the Duke of Somerset.
Bedford.
Hvng be ye heauens with black, yield day to night;
Comets importing change of Times and States,
Brandish your crystall Tresses in the Skie,
And with them scourge the bad reuolting Stars,
That haue consented vnto Henries death:
King Henry the Fift, too famous to liue long,
England ne're lost a King of so much worth.

Glost.
England ne're had a King vntill his time:
Vertue he had, deseruing to command,
His brandisht Sword did blinde men with his beames,
His Armes spred wider then a Dragons Wings:
His sparkling Eyes, repleat with wrathfull fire,
More dazled and droue back his Enemies,
Then mid-day Sunne, fierce bent against their faces.
What should I say? his Deeds exceed all speech:
He ne're lift vp his Hand, but conquered.

Exe.
We mourne in black, why mourn we not in blood?
Henry is dead, and neuer shall reuiue:
Vpon a Woodden Coffin we attend;
And Deaths dishonourable Victorie,
We with our stately presence glorifie,
Like Captiues bound to a Triumphant Carre.
What? shall we curse the Planets of Mishap,
That plotted thus our Glories ouerthrow?
Or shall we thinke the subtile-witted French,
Coniurers and Sorcerers, that afraid of him,
By Magick Verses haue contriu'd his end.

Winch.
He was a King, blest of the King of Kings.
Vnto the French, the dreadfull Iudgement-Day
So dreadful will not be, as was his sight.
The Battailes of the Lord of Hosts he fought:
The Churches Prayers made him so prosperous.

Glost.
The Church? where is it?
Had not Church-men pray'd,
His thred of Life had not so soone decay'd.
None doe you like, but an effeminate Prince,
Whom like a Schoole-boy you may ouer-awe.

Winch.
Gloster, what ere we like, thou art Protector,
And lookest to command the Prince and Realme.
Thy Wife is prowd, she holdeth thee in awe,
More then God or Religious Church-men may.

Glost.
Name not Religion, for thou lou'st the Flesh,
And ne're throughout the yeere to Church thou go'st,
Except it be to pray against thy foes.

Bed.
Cease, cease these Iarres, & rest your minds in peace:
Let's to the Altar: Heralds wayt on vs;
In stead of Gold, wee'le offer vp our Armes,
Since Armes auayle not, now that Henry's dead,
Posteritie await for wretched yeeres,
When at their Mothers moistned eyes, Babes shall suck,
Our Ile be made a Nourish of salt Teares,
And none but Women left to wayle the dead.
Henry the Fift, thy Ghost I inuocate:
Prosper this Realme, keepe it from Ciuill Broyles,
Combat with aduerse Planets in the Heauens;
A farre more glorious Starre thy Soule will make,
Then Iulius Cæsar, or bright—

Enter a Messenger.
Mess.
My honourable Lords, health to you all:
Sad tidings bring I to you out of France,
Of losse, of slaughter, and discomfiture:
Guyen, Champaigne, Rheimes, Orleance,
Paris Guysors, Poictiers, are all quite lost.

Bedf.
What say'st thou man, before dead Henry's Coarse?
Speake softly, or the losse of those great Townes
Will make him burst his Lead, and rise from death.

Glost.
Is Paris lost? is Roan yeelded vp?
If Henry were recall'd to life againe,
These news would cause him once more yeeld the Ghost.

Exe.
How were they lost? what trecherie was vs'd?

Mess.
No trecherie, but want of Men and Money.
Amongst the Souldiers this is muttered,
That here you maintaine seuerall Factions:
And whil'st a Field should be dispatcht and fought,
You are disputing of your Generals.
One would haue lingring Warres, with little cost;
Another would flye swift, but wanteth Wings:
A third thinkes, without expence at all,
By guilefull faire words, Peace may be obtayn'd.
Awake, awake, English Nobilitie,
Let not slouth dimme your Honors, new begot;
Cropt are the Flower-de-Luces in your Armes
Of Englands Coat, one halfe is cut away.

Exe.
Were our Teares wanting to this Funerall,
These Tidings would call forth her flowing Tides.

Bedf.
Me they concerne Regent I am of France:
Giue me my steeled Coat, Ile fight for France.
Away with these disgracefull wayling Robes;
Wounds will I lend the French, instead of Eyes,
To weepe their intermissiue Miseries.

Enter to them another Messenger.
Mess.
Lords view these Letters, full of bad mischance.
France is reuolted from the English quite,
Except some petty Townes, of no import.
The Dolphin Charles is crowned King in Rheimes:
The Bastard of Orleance with him is ioyn'd:
Reynold, Duke of Aniou, doth take his part,
The Duke of Alanson flyeth to his side.

Exit.
Exe.
The Dolphin crown'd King? all flye to him?
O whither shall we flye from this reproach?

Glost.
We will not flye, but to our enemies throats.
Bedford, if thou be slacke, Ile fight it out.

Bed.
Gloster, why doubtst thou of my forwardnesse?
An Army haue I muster'd in my thoughts,
Wherewith already France is ouer-run.

Enter another Messenger.
Mes.
My gracious Lords, to adde to your laments,
Wherewith you now bedew King Henries hearse,
I must informe you of a dismall fight,
Betwixt the stout Lord Talbot, and the French.

Win.
What? wherein Talbot ouercame, is't so?

3. Mes.
O no: wherein Lord Talbot was o'rethrown:
The circumstance Ile tell you more at large.
The tenth of August last, this dreadfull Lord,
Retyring from the Siege of Orleance,
Hauing full scarce six thousand in his troupe,
By three and twentie thousand of the French
Was round incompassed, and set vpon:
No leysure had he to enranke his men.
He wanted Pikes to set before his Archers:
In stead whereof, sharpe Stakes pluckt out of Hedges
They pitched in the ground confusedly,
To keepe the Horsemen off, from breaking in.
More then three houres the fight continued:
Where valiant Talbot, aboue humane thought,
Enacted wonders with his Sword and Lance.
Hundreds he sent to Hell, and none durst stand him:
Here, there, and euery where enrag'd, he slew.
The French exclaym'd, the Deuill was in Armes,
All the whole Army stood agaz'd on him.
His Souldiers spying his vndaunted Spirit,
A Talbot, a Talbot, cry'd out amaine,
And rusht into the Bowels of the Battaile.
Here had the Conquest fully been seal'd vp,
If Sir Iohn Falstaffe had not play'd the Coward.
He being in the Vauward, plac't behinde,
With purpose to relieue and follow them,
Cowardly fled, not hauing struck one stroake.
Hence grew the generall wrack and massacre:
Enclosed were they with their Enemies.
A base Wallon, to win the Dolphins grace,
Thrust Talbot with a Speare into the Back,
Whom all France, with their chiefe assembled strength,
Durst not presume to looke once in the face.

Bedf.
Is Talbot slaine then? I will slay my selfe,
For liuing idly here, in pompe and ease,
Whil'st such a worthy Leader, wanting ayd,
Vnto his dastard foe-men is betray'd.

3. Mess.
O no, he liues, but is tooke Prisoner,
And Lord Scales with him, and Lord Hungerford:
Most of the rest slaughter'd, or tooke likewise.

Bedf.
His Ransome there is none but I shall pay.
Ile hale the Dolphin headlong from his Throne,
His Crowne shall be the Ransome of my friend:
Foure of their Lords Ile change for one of ours.
Farwell my Masters, to my Taske will I,
Bonfires in France forthwith I am to make,
To keepe our great Saint Georges Feast withall.
Ten thousand Souldiers with me I will take,
Whose bloody deeds shall make all Europe quake.

3. Mess.
So you had need, for Orleance is besieg'd,
The English Army is growne weake and faint:
The Earle of Salisbury craueth supply,
And hardly keepes his men from mutinie,
Since they so few, watch such a multitude.

Exe.
Remember Lords your Oathes to Henry sworne:
Eyther to quell the Dolphin vtterly,
Or bring him in obedience to your yoake.

Bedf.
I doe remember it, and here take my leaue,
To goe about my preparation.

Exit Bedford.
Glost.
Ile to the Tower with all the hast I can,
To view th'Artillerie and Munition,
And then I will proclayme young Henry King.

Exit Gloster.
Exe.
To Eltam will I, where the young King is,
Being ordayn'd his speciall Gouernor,
And for his safetie there Ile best deuise.

Exit.
Winch.
Each hath his Place and Function to attend:
I am left out; for me nothing remaines:
But long I will not be Iack out of Office.
The King from Eltam I intend to send,
And sit at chiefest Sterne of publique Weale.

Exit.
Sound a Flourish.
Enter Charles, Alanson, and Reigneir, marching with Drum and Souldiers.
Charles.
Mars his true mouing, euen as in the Heauens,
So in the Earth, to this day is not knowne.
Late did he shine vpon the English side:
Now we are Victors, vpon vs he smiles.
What Townes of any moment, but we haue?
At pleasure here we lye, neere Orleance:
Otherwhiles, the famisht English, like pale Ghosts,
Faintly besiege vs one houre in a moneth.

Alan.
They want their Porredge, & their fat Bul Beeues:
Eyther they must be dyeted like Mules,
And haue their Prouender ty'd to their mouthes,
Or pitteous they will looke, like drowned Mice.

Reigneir.
Let's rayse the Siege: why liue we idly here?
Talbot is taken, whom we wont to feare:
Remayneth none but mad-brayn'd Salisbury,
And he may well in fretting spend his gall,
Nor men nor Money hath he to make Warre.

Charles.
Sound, sound Alarum, we will rush on them.
Now for the honour of the forlorne French:
Him I forgiue my death, that killeth me,
When he sees me goe back one foot, or flye.

Exeunt.
Here Alarum, they are beaten back by the English, with great losse.
Enter Charles, Alanson, and Reigneir.
Charles.
Who euer saw the like? what men haue I?
Dogges, Cowards, Dastards: I would ne're haue fled,
But that they left me 'midst my Enemies.

Reigneir.
Salisbury is a desperate Homicide,
He fighteth as one weary of his life:
The other Lords, like Lyons wanting foode,
Doe rush vpon vs as their hungry prey.

Alanson.
Froysard, a Countreyman of ours, records,
England all Oliuers and Rowlands breed,
During the time Edward the third did raigne:
More truly now may this be verified;
For none but Samsons and Goliasses
It sendeth forth to skirmish: one to tenne?
Leane raw-bon'd Rascals, who would e're suppose,
They had such courage and audacitie?

Charles.
Let's leaue this Towne,
For they are hayre-brayn'd Slaues,
And hunger will enforce them to be more eager:
Of old I know them; rather with their Teeth
The Walls they'le teare downe, then forsake the Siege.

Reigneir.
I thinke by some odde Gimmors or Deuice
Their Armes are set, like Clocks, still to strike on;
Else ne're could they hold out so as they doe:
By my consent, wee'le euen let them alone.

Alanson.
Be it so.

Enter the Bastard of Orleance.
Bastard.

Where's the Prince Dolphin? I haue newes
for him.

Dolph.
Bastard of Orleance, thrice welcome to vs.

Bast.
Me thinks your looks are sad, your chear appal'd.
Hath the late ouerthrow wrought this offence?
Be not dismay'd, for succour is at hand:
A holy Maid hither with me I bring,
Which by a Vision sent to her from Heauen,
Ordayned is to rayse this tedious Siege,
And driue the English forth the bounds of France:
The spirit of deepe Prophecie she hath,
Exceeding the nine Sibyls of old Rome:
What's past, and what's to come, she can descry.
Speake, shall I call her in? beleeue my words,
For they are certaine, and vnfallible.

Dolph.
Goe call her in: but first, to try her skill,
Reignier stand thou as Dolphin in my place;
Question her prowdly, let thy Lookes be sterne,
By this meanes shall we sound what skill she hath.

Enter Ioane Puzel.
Reigneir.

Faire Maid, is't thou wilt doe these wondrous
feats?

Puzel.
Reignier, is't thou that thinkest to beguile me?
Where is the Dolphin? Come, come from behinde,
I know thee well, though neuer seene before.
Be not amaz'd, there's nothing hid from me;
In priuate will I talke with thee apart:
Stand back you Lords, and giue vs leaue a while.

Reigneir.
She takes vpon her brauely at first dash.

Puzel.
Dolphin, I am by birth a Shepheards Daughter,
My wit vntrayn'd in any kind of Art:
Heauen and our Lady gracious hath it pleas'd
To shine on my contemptible estate.
Loe, whilest I wayted on my tender Lambes,
And to Sunnes parching heat display'd my cheekes,
Gods Mother deigned to appeare to me,
And in a Vision full of Maiestie,
Will'd me to leaue my base Vocation,
And free my Countrey from Calamitie:
Her ayde she promis'd, and assur'd successe.
In compleat Glory shee reueal'd her selfe:
And whereas I was black and swart before,
With those cleare Rayes, which shee infus'd on me,
That beautie am I blest with, which you may see.
Aske me what question thou canst possible,
And I will answer vnpremeditated:
My Courage trie by Combat, if thou dar'st,
And thou shalt finde that I exceed my Sex.
Resolue on this, thou shalt be fortunate,
If thou receiue me for thy Warlike Mate.

Dolph.
Thou hast astonisht me with thy high termes:
Onely this proofe Ile of thy Valour make,
In single Combat thou shalt buckle with me;
And if thou vanquishest, thy words are true,
Otherwise I renounce all confidence.

Puzel.
I am prepar'd: here is my keene-edg'd Sword,
Deckt with fine Flower-de-Luces on each side,
The which at Touraine, in S. Katherines Church-yard,
Out of a great deale of old Iron, I chose forth.

Dolph.
Then come a Gods name, I feare no woman.

Puzel.
And while I liue, Ile ne're flye from a man.

Here they fight, and Ioane de Puzel ouercomes.
Dolph.
Stay, stay thy hands, thou art an Amazon,
And fightest with the Sword of Debora.

Puzel.

Christs Mother helpes me, else I were too
weake.

Dolph.
Who e're helps thee, 'tis thou that must help me:
Impatiently I burne with thy desire,
My heart and hands thou hast at once subdu'd.
Excellent Puzel, if thy name be so,
Let me thy seruant, and not Soueraigne be,
'Tis the French Dolphin sueth to thee thus.

Puzel.
I must not yeeld to any rights of Loue,
For my Profession's sacred from aboue:
When I haue chased all thy Foes from hence,
Then will I thinke vpon a recompence.

Dolph.

Meane time looke gracious on thy prostrate
Thrall.

Reigneir.
My Lord me thinkes is very long in talke.

Alans.
Doubtlesse he shriues this woman to her smock,
Else ne're could he so long protract his speech.

Reigneir.

Shall wee disturbe him, since hee keepes no
meane?

Alan.
He may meane more then we poor men do know,
These women are shrewd tempters with their tongues.

Reigneir.
My Lord, where are you? what deuise you on?
Shall we giue o're Orleance, or no?

Puzel.
Why no, I say: distrustfull Recreants,
Fight till the last gaspe: Ile be your guard.

Dolph.

What shee sayes, Ile confirme: wee'le fight
it out.

Puzel.
Assign'd am I to be the English Scourge.
This night the Siege assuredly Ile rayse:
Expect Saint Martins Summer, Halcyons dayes,
Since I haue entred into these Warres.
Glory is like a Circle in the Water,
Which neuer ceaseth to enlarge it selfe,
Till by broad spreading, it disperse to naught.
With Henries death, the English Circle ends,
Dispersed are the glories it included:
Now am I like that prowd insulting Ship,
Which Cæsar and his fortune bare at once.

Dolph.
Was Mahomet inspired with a Doue?
Thou with an Eagle art inspired then.
Helen, the Mother of Great Constantine,
Nor yet S. Philips daughters were like thee.
Bright Starre of Venus, falne downe on the Earth,
How may I reuerently worship thee enough?

Alanson.

Leaue off delayes, and let vs rayse the
Siege.

Reigneir.
Woman, do what thou canst to saue our honors,
Driue them from Orleance, and be immortaliz'd.

Dolph.
Presently wee'le try: come, let's away about it,
No Prophet will I trust, if shee proue false.

Exeunt.
Enter Gloster, with his Seruing-men.
Glost.
I am come to suruey the Tower this day;
Since Henries death, I feare there is Conueyance:
Where be these Warders, that they wait not here?
Open the Gates, 'tis Gloster that calls.

1. Warder.
Who's there, that knocks so imperiously?

Glost. 1. Man.
It is the Noble Duke of Gloster.

2. Warder.
Who ere he be, you may not be let in.

1. Man.
Villaines, answer you so the Lord Protector?

1. Warder.
The Lord protect him, so we answer him,
We doe no otherwise then wee are will'd.

Glost.
Who willed you? or whose will stands but mine?
There's none Protector of the Realme, but I:
Breake vp the Gates, Ile be your warrantize;
Shall I be flowted thus by dunghill Groomes?

Glosters men rush at the Tower Gates, and Wooduile the Lieutenant speakes within.
Wooduile.

What noyse is this? what Traytors haue
wee here?

Glost.
Lieutenant, is it you whose voyce I heare?
Open the Gates, here's Gloster that would enter.

Wooduile.
Haue patience Noble Duke, I may not open,
The Cardinall of Winchester forbids:
From him I haue expresse commandement,
That thou nor none of thine shall be let in.

Glost.
Faint-hearted Wooduile, prizest him 'fore me?
Arrogant Winchester, that haughtie Prelate,
Whom Henry our late Soueraigne ne're could brooke?
Thou art no friend to God, or to the King:
Open the Gates, or Ile shut thee out shortly.

Seruingmen.
Open the Gates vnto the Lord Protector,
Or wee'le burst them open, if that you come not quickly.

Enter to the Protector at the Tower Gates Winchester and his men in Tawney Coates.
Winchest.

How now ambitious Vmpheir, what meanes
this?

Glost.

Piel'd Priest, doo'st thou command me to be
shut out?

Winch.
I doe, thou most vsurping Proditor,
And not Protector of the King or Realme.

Glost.
Stand back thou manifest Conspirator,
Thou that contriued'st to murther our dead Lord,
Thou that giu'st Whores Indulgences to sinne,
Ile canuas thee in thy broad Cardinalls Hat,
If thou proceed in this thy insolence.

Winch.
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.

Glost.
I will not slay thee, but Ile driue thee back:
Thy Scarlet Robes, as a Childs bearing Cloth,
Ile vse, to carry thee out of this place.

Winch.
Doe what thou dar'st, I beard thee to thy face.

Glost.
What? am I dar'd, and bearded to my face?
Draw men, for all this priuiledged place,
Blew Coats to Tawny Coats. Priest, beware your Beard,
I meane to tugge it, and to cuffe you soundly.
Vnder my feet I stampe thy Cardinalls Hat:
In spight of Pope, or dignities of Church,
Here by the Cheekes Ile drag thee vp and downe.

Winch.
Gloster, thou wilt answere this before the Pope.

Glost.
Winchester Goose, I cry, a Rope, a Rope.
Now beat them hence, why doe you let them stay?
Thee Ile chase hence, thou Wolfe in Sheepes array.
Out Tawney-Coates, out Scarlet Hypocrite.

Here Glosters men beat out the Cardinalls men, and enter in the hurly-burly the Maior of London, and his Officers.
Maior.
Fye Lords, that you being supreme Magistrates,
Thus contumeliously should breake the Peace.

Glost.
Peace Maior, thou know'st little of my wrongs:
Here's Beauford, that regards nor God nor King,
Hath here distrayn'd the Tower to his vse.

Winch.
Here's Gloster, a Foe to Citizens,
One that still motions Warre, and neuer Peace,
O're-charging your free Purses with large Fines;
That seekes to ouerthrow Religion,
Because he is Protector of the Realme;
And would haue Armour here out of the Tower,
To Crowne himselfe King, and suppresse the Prince.

Glost.
I will not answer thee with words, but blowes.

Here they skirmish againe.
Maior.
Naught rests for me, in this tumultuous strife,
But to make open Proclamation.
Come Officer, as lowd as e're thou canst, cry:

All manner of men, assembled here in Armes this day, against Gods Peace and the Kings, wee charge and command you, in his Highnesse Name, to repayre to your seuerall dwelling places, and not to weare, handle, or vse any Sword, Weapon, or Dagger hence-forward, vpon paine of death.
Glost.
Cardinall, Ile be no breaker of the Law:
But we shall meet, and breake our minds at large.

Winch.
Gloster, wee'le meet to thy cost, be sure:
Thy heart-blood I will haue for this dayes worke.

Maior.
Ile call for Clubs, if you will not away:
This Cardinall's more haughtie then the Deuill.

Glost.

Maior farewell: thou doo'st but what thou
may'st.

Winch.
Abhominable Gloster, guard thy Head,
For I intend to haue it ere long.

Exeunt.
Maior.
See the Coast clear'd, and then we will depart.
Good God, these Nobles should such stomacks beare,
I my selfe fight not once in fortie yeere.

Exeunt.
Enter the Master Gunner of Orleance, and his Boy.
M. Gunner.
Sirrha, thou know'st how Orleance is besieg'd,
And how the English haue the Suburbs wonne.

Boy.
Father I know, and oft haue shot at them,
How e're vnfortunate, I miss'd my ayme.

M. Gunner.
But now thou shalt not. Be thou rul'd by me:
Chiefe Master Gunner am I of this Towne,
Something I must doe to procure me grace:
The Princes espyals haue informed me,
How the English, in the Suburbs close entrencht,
Went through a secret Grate of Iron Barres,
In yonder Tower, to ouer-peere the Citie,
And thence discouer, how with most aduantage
They may vex vs with Shot or with Assault.
To intercept this inconuenience,
A Peece of Ordnance 'gainst it I haue plac'd,
And euen these three dayes haue I watcht,
If I could see them. Now doe thou watch,
For I can stay no longer.
If thou spy'st any, runne and bring me word,
And thou shalt finde me at the Gouernors.

Exit.
Boy.
Father, I warrant you, take you no care,
Ile neuer trouble you, if I may spye them.

Exit.
Enter Salisbury and Talbot on the Turrets, with others.
Salisb.
Talbot, my life, my ioy, againe return'd?
How wert thou handled, being Prisoner?
Or by what meanes got's thou to be releas'd?
Discourse I prethee on this Turrets top.

Talbot.
The Earle of Bedford had a Prisoner,
Call'd the braue Lord Ponton de Santrayle,
For him was I exchang'd, and ransom'd.
But with a baser man of Armes by farre,
Once in contempt they would haue barter'd me:
Which I disdaining, scorn'd, and craued death,
Rather then I would be so pil'd esteem'd:
In fine, redeem'd I was as I desir'd.
But O, the trecherous Falstaffe wounds my heart,
Whom with my bare fists I would execute,
If I now had him brought into my power.

Salisb.
Yet tell'st thou not, how thou wert entertain'd.

Tal.
With scoffes and scornes, and contumelious taunts,
In open Market-place produc't they me,
To be a publique spectacle to all:
Here, sayd they, is the Terror of the French,
The Scar-Crow that affrights our Children so.
Then broke I from the Officers that led me,
And with my nayles digg'd stones out of the ground,
To hurle at the beholders of my shame.
My grisly countenance made others flye,
None durst come neere, for feare of suddaine death.
In Iron Walls they deem'd me not secure:
So great feare of my Name 'mongst them were spread,
That they suppos'd I could rend Barres of Steele,
And spurne in pieces Posts of Adamant.
Wherefore a guard of chosen Shot I had,
That walkt about me euery Minute while:
And if I did but stirre out of my Bed,
Ready they were to shoot me to the heart.

Enter the Boy with a Linstock.
Salisb.
I grieue to heare what torments you endur'd,
But we will be reueng'd sufficiently.
Now it is Supper time in Orleance:
Here, through this Grate, I count each one,
And view the Frenchmen how they fortifie:
Let vs looke in, the sight will much delight thee:
Sir Thomas Gargraue, and Sir William Glansdale,
Let me haue your expresse opinions,
Where is best place to make our Batt'ry next?

Gargraue.

I thinke at the North Gate, for there stands
Lords.

Glansdale.

And I heere, at the Bulwarke of the
Bridge.

Talb.
For ought I see, this Citie must be famisht,
Or with light Skirmishes enfeebled.

Here they shot, and Salisbury falls downe.
Salisb.
O Lord haue mercy on vs, wretched sinners.

Gargraue.
O Lord haue mercy on me, wofull man.

Talb.
What chance is this, that suddenly hath crost vs?
Speake Salisbury; at least, if thou canst, speake:
How far'st thou, Mirror of all Martiall men?
One of thy Eyes, and thy Cheekes side struck off?
Accursed Tower, accursed fatall Hand,
That hath contriu'd this wofull Tragedie.
In thirteene Battailes, Salisbury o'recame:
Henry the Fift he first trayn'd to the Warres,
Whil'st any Trumpe did sound, or Drum struck vp,
His Sword did ne're leaue striking in the field.
Yet liu'st thou Salisbury? though thy speech doth fayle,
One Eye thou hast to looke to Heauen for grace.
The Sunne with one Eye vieweth all the World.
Heauen be thou gracious to none aliue,
If Salisbury wants mercy at thy hands.
Beare hence his Body, I will helpe to bury it.
Sir Thomas Gargraue, hast thou any life?
Speake vnto Talbot, nay, looke vp to him.
Salisbury cheare thy Spirit with this comfort,
Thou shalt not dye whiles—
He beckens with his hand, and smiles on me:
As who should say, When I am dead and gone,
Remember to auenge me on the French.
Plantaginet I will, and like thee,
Play on the Lute, beholding the Townes burne:
Wretched shall France be onely in my Name.
Here an Alarum, and it Thunders and Lightens.
What stirre is this? what tumult's in the Heauens?
Whence commeth this Alarum, and the noyse?

Enter a Messenger.
Mess.
My Lord, my Lord, the French haue gather'd head.
The Dolphin, with one Ioane de Puzel ioyn'd,
A holy Prophetesse, new risen vp,
Is come with a great Power, to rayse the Siege.

Here Salisbury lifteth himselfe vp, and groanes.
Talb.
Heare, heare, how dying Salisbury doth groane,
It irkes his heart he cannot be reueng'd.
Frenchmen, Ile be a Salisbury to you.
Puzel or Pussel, Dolphin or Dog-fish,
Your hearts Ile stampe out with my Horses heeles,
And make a Quagmire of your mingled braines.
Conuey me Salisbury into his Tent,
And then wee'le try what these dastard Frenchmen dare.

Alarum.
Exeunt.
Here an Alarum againe, and Talbot pursueth the Dolphin, and driueth him: Then enter Ioane de Puzel, driuing Englishmen before her. Then enter Talbot.
Talb.
Where is my strength, my valour, and my force?
Our English Troupes retyre, I cannot stay them,
A Woman clad in Armour chaseth them.
Enter Puzel.
Here, here shee comes. Ile haue a bowt with thee:
Deuill, or Deuils Dam, Ile coniure thee:
Blood will I draw on thee, thou art a Witch,
And straightway giue thy Soule to him thou seru'st.

Puzel.
Come, come, 'tis onely I that must disgrace thee.

Here they fight.
Talb.
Heauens, can you suffer Hell so to preuayle?
My brest Ile burst with straining of my courage,
And from my shoulders crack my Armes asunder,
But I will chastise this high-minded Strumpet.

They fight againe.
Puzel.
Talbot farwell, thy houre is not yet come,
I must goe Victuall Orleance forthwith:
A short Alarum: then enter the Towne with Souldiers.
O're-take me if thou canst, I scorne thy strength.
Goe, goe, cheare vp thy hungry-starued men,
Helpe Salisbury to make his Testament,
This Day is ours, as many more shall be.

Exit.
Talb.
My thoughts are whirled like a Potters Wheele,
I know not where I am, nor what I doe:
A Witch by feare, not force, like Hannibal,
Driues back our troupes, and conquers as she lists:
So Bees with smoake, and Doues with noysome stench,
Are from their Hyues and Houses driuen away.
They call'd vs, for our fiercenesse, English Dogges,
Now like to Whelpes, we crying runne away.
A short Alarum.
Hearke Countreymen, eyther renew the fight,
Or teare the Lyons out of Englands Coat;
Renounce your Soyle, giue Sheepe in Lyons stead:
Sheepe run not halfe so trecherous from the Wolfe,
Or Horse or Oxen from the Leopard,
As you flye from your oft-subdued slaues.
Alarum. Here another Skirmish.
It will not be, retyre into your Trenches:
You all consented vnto Salisburies death,
For none would strike a stroake in his reuenge.
Puzel is entred into Orleance,
In spight of vs, or ought that we could doe.
O would I were to dye with Salisbury,
The shame hereof, will make me hide my head.

Exit Talbot.
Alarum, Retreat, Flourish.
Enter on the Walls, Puzel, Dolphin, Reigneir, Alanson, and Souldiers.
Puzel.
Aduance our wauing Colours on the Walls,
Rescu'd is Orleance from the English.
Thus Ioane de Puzel hath perform'd her word.

Dolph.
Diuinest Creature, Astrea's Daughter,
How shall I honour thee for this successe?
Thy promises are like Adonis Garden,
That one day bloom'd, and fruitfull were the next.
France, triumph in thy glorious Prophetesse,
Recouer'd is the Towne of Orleance,
More blessed hap did ne're befall our State.

Reigneir.
Why ring not out the Bells alowd,
Throughout the Towne?
Dolphin command the Citizens make Bonfires,
And feast and banquet in the open streets,
To celebrate the ioy that God hath giuen vs.

Alans.
All France will be repleat with mirth and ioy,
When they shall heare how we haue play'd the men.

Dolph.
'Tis Ioane, not we, by whom the day is wonne:
For which, I will diuide my Crowne with her,
And all the Priests and Fryers in my Realme,
Shall in procession sing her endlesse prayse.
A statelyer Pyramis to her Ile reare,
Then Rhodophe's or Memphis euer was.
In memorie of her, when she is dead,
Her Ashes, in an Vrne more precious
Then the rich-iewel'd Coffer of Darius,
Transported, shall be at high Festiuals
Before the Kings and Queenes of France.
No longer on Saint Dennis will we cry,
But Ioane de Puzel shall be France's Saint.
Come in, and let vs Banquet Royally,
After this Golden Day of Victorie.

Flourish.
Exeunt.