&blquo;Serjeant.
&blquo;Sirs, take your places, and be vigilant:
&blquo;If any noise, or soldier, you perceive,
&blquo;Near to the walls, by some apparent sign
&blquo;Let us have knowledge at the court of guard.

&blquo;1. S.
&blquo;Serjeant, you shall. [Exit Serj.] Thus are poor servitors
&blquo;(When others sleep upon their quiet beds)
&blquo;Constrain'd to watch in darkness, rain, and cold† ^note. Enter the Dukes of Bedford and Burgundy, the Lord Talbot, and Forces at a Distance, 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 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!

&blquo;Bur.
&blquo;Traitors have never other company.
&blquo;But what's that Pucelle, whom they term so pure?

&blquo;Tal.
&blquo;A maid, they say.

&blquo;Bed.
&blquo;A maid! and be so martial!

&blquo;Bur.
&blquo;Pray heav'n she prove not masculine ere long;
&blquo;If underneath the standard of the French
&blquo;She carry armour, as she hath begun.

Tal.
Well, let them practise and converse with spirits:
Heav'n 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 all together: 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. [They disperse, and scale the walls, crying, Saint George! A Talbot! &c. and all enter the city.

Sen.
Arm, arm! the enemy doth make assault! [The French leap over the walls in their shirts* ^note. Enter confusedly, and unready, the Bastard of Orleans, Alenson, Reignier, and others.

Ale.
How now, my lords? what, all unready so?

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

Rei.
'Twas time, I trow, to wake, and leave our beds,
Hearing alarums at our chamber doors.

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

Bas.
I think, this Talbot be a fiend of hell.

Rei.
If not of hell, the heavens, sure, favour him.

Ale.
Here cometh Charles; I marvel, how he sped.

Enter Charles, and Pucelle.

Bas.
Tut! holy Joan was his defensive guard.

Cha.
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.

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

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

Bas.
Mine was secure.

Rei.
And so was mine, my lord.

Cha.
And, for myself, most part of all this night,
Within her quarter, and mine own precinct,
I was employ'd 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 plat-forms to endammage them. Alarums. Enter an English Soldier, crying, A Talbot! a Talbot! they fly, leaving their Cloaths behind† ^note.

Sol.
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.

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