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. Enter Talbot, Bedford, and Burgundy.

Bed.
The day begins to break, and night is fled,
Whose pitchy mantle over-veil'd the earth.
Here sound retreat, and cease our hot pursuit. [Retreat.

Tal.
Bring forth the body of old Salisbury,
And here advance it in the market place,
The middle centre of this cursed town.
Now have I pay'd my vow unto his soul.
For ev'ry drop of blood was drawn from him,

There have at least five Frenchmen dy'd to-night.
And that hereafter ages may behold
What ruin happen'd in revenge of him,
Within the chiefest temple I'll erect
A tomb, wherein his corps shall be interr'd:
Upon the which, that every one may read,
Shall be engrav'd the sack of Orleans,
The treach'rous manner of his mournful death,
And what a terror he had been to France.
But, lords, in all our bloody massacre,
I muse we met not with the Dauphin's grace,
His new-come champion, virtuous Joan of Arc,
Nor any of his false confederates.

Bed.
'Tis thought, lord Talbot, when the fight began,
Rous'd on the sudden from their drowsie beds,
They did amongst the troops of armed men
Leap o'er the walls, for refuge in the field.

Bur.
My self, as far as I could well discern
For smoak and dusty vapours of the night,
Am sure I scar'd the Dauphin and his trull;
When arm in arm they both came swiftly running,
Like to a pair of loving Turtle Doves,
That could not live asunder day or night.
After that things are set in order here,
We'll follow them with all the pow'r we have. Enter a Messenger.

Mess.
All hail, my lords; which of this Princely train
Call ye the warlike Talbot, for his acts
So much applauded through the realm of France?

Tal.
Here is the Talbot, who would speak with him?

Mess.
The virtuous lady, Countess of Auvergne,
With modesty admiring thy renown,
By me intreats, great lord, thou would'st vouchsafe

To visit her poor castle where she lyes;
That she may boast she hath beheld the man
Whose glory fills the world with loud report.

Bur.
Is it ev'n so? nay, then I see our wars
Will turn into a peaceful comick sport,
When ladies crave to be encounter'd with.
You can't, my lord, despise her gentle suit.

Tal.
Ne'er trust me then; for when a world of men
Could not prevail with all their oratory,
Yet hath a woman's kindness over-rul'd:
And therefore tell her, I return great thanks,
And in submission will attend on her.
Will not your honours bear me company?

Bed.
No, truly that is more than manners will:
And I have heard it said, unbidden guests
Are often welcomest when they are gone.

Tal.
Well then, alone, since there's no remedy,
I mean to prove this lady's courtesie.
Come hither captain, you perceive my mind. [Whispers.

Capt.
I do, my lord, and mean accordingly. [Exeunt.

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