Pucel.
These are the City Gates, the Gates of Roan,
Through which our Policy must make a Breach.
Take heed, be wary how you place your Words,
Talk like the vulgar sort of Market-men,
That come to gather Mony for their Corn.
If we have entrance, as I hope we shall,
And that we find the slothful Watch but weak,
I'll by a Sign give notice to our Friends,
That Charles the Dauphin may encounter them.

Sol.
Our Sacks shall be a means to sack the City,
And we be Lords and Rulers over Roan,
Therefore we'll knock. [Knocks.

Watch.
Qui va la?

Pucel.
Paisans pauvres gens de France.
Poor Market Folks that come to sell their Corn.

Watch.
Enter, go in, the Market Bell is rung.

Pucel.
Now Roan, I'll shake thy Bulwarks to the Ground. [Exeunt. Enter Dauphin, Bastard, and Alenson.

Dau.
St. Dennis bless this happy Stratagem,
And once again we'll sleep secure in Roan.

Bast.
Here entred Pucelle and her Practisants:
Now she is there, how will she specifie,
Where is the best and safest passage in?

Reig.
By thrusting out a Torch from yonder Tower,
Which once discern'd, shews that her meaning is,
No way to that (for weakness) which she entred. Enter Joan la Pucelle on the top, thrusting out a Torch burning.

Pucel.
Behold, this is the happy Wedding Torch,
That joineth Roan unto her Countrymen,
But burning fatal to the Talbonites.

Bast.
See, Noble Charles, the Beacon of our Friend,
The burning Torch in yonder Turret stands.

Dau.
Now shines it like a Comet of Revenge,
A Prophet to the fall of all our Foes.

Reig.
Defer no time, delays have dangerous Ends,
Enter, and cry, The Dauphin, presently,
And then do execution on the Watch. [An Alarm, Talbot in an Excursion.

Tal.
France, thou shalt rue this Treason with thy Tears,
If Talbot but survive thy Treachery.
Pucelle that Witch, that damned Sorceress,
Hath wrought this hellish Mischief unawares,
That hardly we escap'd the Pride of France [Exit. An Alarm: Excursions, Bedford brought in sick in a Chair. Enter Talbot and Burgundy without; within Joan la Pucelle, Dauphin, Bastard and Reignier on the Walls.

Pucel.
Good morrow, Gallants, want ye Corn for Bread?
I think the Duke of Burgundy will fast,
Before he'll buy again at such a rate.
'Twas full of Darnel; do you like the taste?

Burg.
Scoff on, vile Fiend, and shameful Courtizan,
I trust e'er long to choak thee with thine own,

And make thee curse the Harvest of that Corn.

Dau.
Your Grace may starve, perhaps, before that time.

Bed.
Oh let not Words, but Deeds revenge this Treason.

Pucel.
What will you do, good gray Beard?
Break a Launce, and run a Tilt at Death
Within a Chair.

Tal.
Foul Fiend of France, and Hag of all despight,
Incompass'd with thy lustful Paramours,
Becomes it thee to taunt his valiant Age,
And twit with Cowardise a Man half dead?
Damsel, I'll have a Bout with you again,
Or else let Talbot perish with his Shame.

Pucel.
Are you so hot, Sir: Yet Pucelle hold thy peace,
If Talbot do but Thunder, Rain will follow. [They whisper together in Counsel.
God speed the Parliament; who shall be the Speaker?

Tal.
Dare ye come forth, and meet us in the Field?

Pucel.
Belike your Lordship takes us then for Fools,
To try if that our own be ours, or no.

Tal.
I speak not to that railing Hecate,
But unto thee Alenson, and the rest.
Will ye, like Soldiers, come and fight it out?

Alen.
Seignior, no.

Tal.
Seignior, hang: Base Muleteers of France,
Like Peasant Foot-boys do they keep the Walls,
And dare not take up Arms, like Gentlemen.

Pucel.
Captains away, let's get us from the Walls,
For Talbot means no goodness by his Looks.
God be wi'you, my Lord; we came, Sir, but to tell you,
That we are here. [Exeunt from the Walls.

Tal.
And there we will be too, e'er it be long,
Or else Reproach be Talbot's greatest Fame.
Vow Burgundy, by Honour of thy House,
Prick'd on by publick Wrongs sustain'd in France,
Either to get the Town again, or dye.
And I, as sure as English Henry lives,
And as his Father here was Conqueror,
As sure as in this late betrayed Town,
Great Cœurdelion's Heart was buried;
So sure I swear to get the Town or die.

Burg.
My Vows are equal partners with thy Vows.

Tal.
But e'er we go, regard this dying Prince.
The valiant Duke of Bedford: Come, my Lord,
We will bestow you in some better place,
Fitter for Sickness, and for crazy Age.

Bed.
Lord Talbot, do not so dishonour me:
Here I will sit, before the Walls of Roan,
And will be partner of your Weal or Wo.

Burg.
Couragious Bedford, let us now persuade you.

Bed.
Not to be gone from hence: For once I read,
That stout Pendragon, in his Litter sick,
Came to the Field, and vanquished his Foes.
Methinks I should revive the Soldiers Hearts,
Because I ever found them as my self.

Tal.
Undaunted Spirit in a dying Breast,
Then be it so: Heavens keep old Bedford safe.
And now no more ado, brave Burgundy,
But gather we our Forces out of hand,
And set upon our boasting Enemy. [Exit. An Alarm: Excursions: Enter Sir John Falstaff, and a Captain.

Cap.
Whither away, Sir John Falstaff, in such haste?

Fal.
Whither away? to save my self by flight,
We are like to have the Overthrow again.

Cap.
What! will you fly, and leave Lord Talbot?

Fal.
Ay, all the Talbots in the World to save my Life. [Exit.

Cap.
Cowardly Knight, ill Fortune follow thee. [Exit. Retreat: Excursions. Pucelle, Alenson, and Dauphin fly.

Bed.
Now, quiet Soul, depart when Heaven please,
For I have seen our Enemies overthrow.
What is the trust or strength of foolish Man?
They that of late were daring with their Scoffs,
Are glad and fain by flight to save themselves. [Dies, and is carried off in his Chair. An Alarm. Enter Talbot, Burgundy, and the rest.

Tal.
Lost, and recovered in a day again,
This is a double Honour, Burgundy;
Yet Heavens have Glory for this Victory.

Burg.
Warlike and Martial Talbot, Burgundy
Inshrines thee in his Heart, and there erects

Thy Noble Deeds, as Valour's Monuments.

Tal.
Thanks, gentle Duke; but where is Pucelle now?
I think her old Familiar is asleep.
Now where's the Bastard's braves, and Charles his glikes?
What, all amort? Roan hangs her Head for Grief,
That such a valiant Company are fled.
Now we will take some Order in the Town,
Placing therein some expert Officers,
And then depart to Paris to the King,
For there young Henry with his Nobles lye.

Burg.
What will's Lord Talbot, pleaseth Burgundy.

Tal.
But yet before we go, let's not forget
The Noble Duke of Bedford, late deceas'd,
But see his Exequies fulfill'd in Roan.
A braver Soldier never couched Launce,
A gentler Heart did never sway in Court.
But Kings and mightiest Potentates must dye,
For that's the end of Human Misery. [Exeunt.

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