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James Boswell [1821], The plays and poems of William Shakspeare, with the corrections and illustrations of various commentators: comprehending A Life of the Poet, and an enlarged history of the stage, by the late Edmond Malone. With a new glossarial index (J. Deighton and Sons, Cambridge) [word count] [S10201].
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SCENE I. The Same. Enter to the Gates, 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 guard6 note.

1 Sent.
Sergeant, you shall. [Exit Sergeant.] Thus are poor servitors
(When others sleep upon their quiet beds,)
Constrain'd 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,—

-- 50 --


By whose approach, the regions of Artois,
Walloon and Picardy, are friends to us,—
This happy night the Frenchmen are secure,
Having all day carous'd and banqueted:
Embrace we then this opportunity;
As fitting best to quittance their deceit,
Contriv'd 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,
That we do make our entrance several ways;
That, if it chance the one of us do fail,
The other yet may rise against their force.

Bed.
Agreed; I'll to yon corner.

Bur.
And I to this.

Tal.
And here will Talbot mount, or make his grave.—
Now, Salisbury! for thee, and for the right
Of English Henry, shall, this night appear
How much in duty I am bound to both.
[The English scale the Walls, crying St. George! a Talbot! and all enter by the Town.

-- 51 --

Sent. [Within.]
Arm, arm! the enemy doth make assault!
The French leap over the Walls in their Shirts. Enter, several ways, Bastard, Alencon, Reignier, half ready, and half unready.

Alen.
How now, my lords? what, all unready so7 note




?

Bast.
Unready? ay, and glad we 'scap'd so well.

Reig.
'Twas time, I trow, to wake and leave our beds,
Hearing alarums at our chamber doors8 note
.

Alen.
Of all exploits, since first I follow'd arms,
Ne'er heard I of a warlike enterprize
More venturous, or 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.

-- 52 --

Enter Charles and La Pucelle.

Bast.
Tut! holy Joan was his defensive guard.

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,
Or will you blame and lay the fault on me?—
Improvident soldiers! had your watch been good,
This sudden mischief never could have fall'n.

Char.
Duke of Alençon, this was your default;
That, being captain of the watch to-night,
Did look no better to that weighty charge.

Alen.
Had all your quarters been as safely kept,
As that whereof I had the government,
We had not been thus shamefully surpriz'd.

Bast.
Mine was secure.

Reig.
And so was mine, my lord.

Char.
And, for myself, most part of all this night,
Within her quarter, and mine own precinct,
I was employed in passing to and fro,
About relieving of the sentinels:
Then how, or which way, should they first break in?

Puc.
Question, my lords, no further of the case,
How, or which way; 'tis sure, they found some place
But weakly guarded, where the breach was made.
And now there rests no other shift but this,—
To gather our soldiers, scatter'd and dispers'd,
And lay new platforms9 note to endamage them.

-- 53 --

Alarum. Enter an English Soldier, crying, a Talbot! a Talbot1 note





! They fly, leaving their Clothes behind.

Sold.
I'll be so bold to take what they have left.
The cry of Talbot serves me for a sword;
For I have loaden me with many spoils,
Using no other weapon but his name.
[Exit.

-- 54 --

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James Boswell [1821], The plays and poems of William Shakspeare, with the corrections and illustrations of various commentators: comprehending A Life of the Poet, and an enlarged history of the stage, by the late Edmond Malone. With a new glossarial index (J. Deighton and Sons, Cambridge) [word count] [S10201].
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