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Edward Capell [1767], Mr William Shakespeare his comedies, histories, and tragedies, set out by himself in quarto, or by the Players his Fellows in folio, and now faithfully republish'd from those Editions in ten Volumes octavo; with an introduction: Whereunto will be added, in some other Volumes, notes, critical and explanatory, and a Body of Various Readings entire (Printed by Dryden Leach, for J. and R. Tonson [etc.], London) [word count] [S10601].
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SCENE V. The same. Before one of the Gates. Alarums. Skirmishings. Enter Talbot.

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 La Pucelle.
Here, here she comes:—I'll have a bout note with thee; [throwing himself in her Way.
Devil, or devil's dam, I'll conjure thee:
Blood will I draw of thee, thou art a witch,
And straightway give thy soul to him thou serv'st.

-- 22 --

Puc.
Come, come, 'tis only I that must disgrace thee.
[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 chástise this high-minded strumpet.
[fight again.

Puc.
Talbot, farewel; thy hour is not yet come: [quitting him, to head some Troops.
I must go victual Orleans forthwith note.
O'er-take me, if thou canst; I scorn thy strength.
Go, go, chear up thy hunger-starved note men;
Help Salisbury to make his testament:
This day is ours, as many more shall be.
[Exit, with Troops, to the Town.

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 the whelps note, we crying run away. [a short Skirmish.
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 timorous note from the wolf,
Or horse, or oxen, from the leopard,
As you fly from your oft-subdued slaves.— [another Skirmish.
It will not be:—Retire into your trenches:

-- 23 --


You all consented unto Salisbury's death, [Retreat sounded.
For none would strike a stroke in his revenge.—
Pucelle is enter'd into Orleans,
In spite of us, or ought that we could do.
O, would I were to die with Salisbury!
The shame hereof will make me hide my head. [Exeunt, Talbot, and Forces of both Sides.
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Edward Capell [1767], Mr William Shakespeare his comedies, histories, and tragedies, set out by himself in quarto, or by the Players his Fellows in folio, and now faithfully republish'd from those Editions in ten Volumes octavo; with an introduction: Whereunto will be added, in some other Volumes, notes, critical and explanatory, and a Body of Various Readings entire (Printed by Dryden Leach, for J. and R. Tonson [etc.], London) [word count] [S10601].
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