Tal.
Where is my strength, my valour, and my force?
Our English troops retire, I cannot stay them.
A woman, clad in armour, chaseth them.

Enter Pucelle.
Here, here, she comes. I'll have a bout with thee;
Devil, or devil's dam, I'll conjure thee.
^{4 note}Blood will I draw on thee, thou art a witch;
And straitway give thy soul to him thou serv'st.

Pucel.
Come, come, 'tis only I, that must disgrace thee. [They fight.

Tal.
Heav'ns, 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.

Pucel.
Talbot, farewel, thy hour is not yet come,
I must go victual Orleans forthwith. [A short alarm. Then enters the town with soldiers.
O'ertake me if thou canst, I scorn thy strength.
Go, go, chear up thy hunger-starved men.
Help Salisbury to make his testament.
This day is ours, as many more shall be. [Exit Pucelle.

Tal.
My thoughts are whirled 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 noisom stench,
Are from their hives, and houses, driv'n away.
They call'd us for our fierceness English dogs,
Now, like their whelps, we crying run away. [A short alarm.
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 tim'rous from the Wolf,
Or Horse or Oxen from the Leopard,
As you fly from your oft-subdued slaves. [Alarm. Here 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 revenge.
Pucelle is enter'd into Orleans,
In spight 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. [Exit Talbot. [Alarm, Retreat, Flourish.

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