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. Re-enter La Pucelle. ^note
Here, here she comes. I'll have a bout ^note with thee;
Devil or devil's dam, I'll conjure thee:

Blood will I draw on thee, thou art a witch,
And straightway give thy soul to him thou servest.

Puc.
Come, come, 'tis only I that must disgrace thee. [Here they fight.

Tal.
Heavens, 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 ^note. [They fight again.

Puc.
Talbot, farewell; thy hour is not yet come:
I must go victual Orleans forthwith ^note. [A short alarum: then enter ^note the town with soldiers.
O'ertake me, if thou canst; I scorn thy strength.
Go, go, cheer up thy hungry-starved ^note men;
Help Salisbury to make his testament:
This day is ours, as many more shall be. [Exit.

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 noisome stench
Are from their hives and houses driven away.
They call'd us for our fierceness English dogs;
Now, like to ^note whelps, we crying run away. [A short alarum.
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 treacherous from the ^note wolf,
Or horse or oxen from the leopard,
As you fly from your oft-subdued slaves. [Alarum. 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 spite 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. Alarum; retreat; flourish. ^note

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