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Being ordain'd his special governor;
Win. Each hath his place and function to attend:
S CE N E
Before Orleans in France. Enter Charles, Alanson, and Reignier, marching with
a drum and Soldiers. Char. MARS his true moving, even
as in the
, So in the earth to ihis day is not known. Late, did he shine upon the English fide: Now we are victors, upon us lie smiles. What towns of any moment, but we have ? At pleasure here we lie near Orleans : Tho' still the famish'd English, like pale ghosts, Faintly befiege us one hour in a month. beeves;
Alan. They want their porridge, and their fat BullEither they must be dieted, like mules, And bave their provender ty'd to their mouths ; Or piteous they will look like drowned mice.
Roig. Let's raise the fiege: why live we idly here? Talbot is taken, whom we wont to fear: Remaineth' none but mad-brain'd Salisbury, And he may well in fretting spend his gall; Nor
men, nor money, hath he to make war. Char, Sound, found alarum: we will rush on them: Now for the honour of the forlorn French: Him I forgive my death, that killeth me; When he sees me go back one foot, or sly. [Exeunt.
[Here Alarm, they are beaten back by the English with great loss.
Re-enter Charles, Alanson, and Reignier. Char. Who ever saw the like? what men have I? Dogs, cowards, daftards! I would ne'er have fled, But that they left me 'midst my
Alan. Froysard, a countryman of ours, records,
Reig. I think, by fome odd gimmals or device
Alan, Be it so.
Enter the Bastard of Orleans. Baft. Where's the Prince Dauphin ? I have news
for him. Dau. Bastard of Orleans, thrice welcome to us. Baft. Methinks, your looks are fad, your chear
Ordained is to raise this tedious fiege ;
Dau. Go, call her in; but first, to try her skill,
S CE N E
Enter Joan la Pucelle Reig. FAIR
maid, is't thou wilt do these wond'rous Pucel. Reignier, is't thou that thinkest to beguile me? Where is the Dauphin; come, come from behind, I know thee well, tho' never seen before. Be not amaz'd: there's nothing hid from me: In private will I talk with thee apart: Stand back, you lords, and give us leave awhile.
Reig. She takes upon her bravely at first dash.
Pucel. Dauphin, I am by birth a shepherd's daughter. My wit untrain'd in any kind of art : Heav'n, and our Lady gracious hath it pleas'd To shine on my contemptible estate. Lo, whilft I waited on my tender lambs, And to sun's parching heat display'd my cheeks, God's mother deigned to appear to me; And, in a vision full of majesty, Willd me to leave my base vocation, And free my country from calamity: Her aid she promis'd, and assur’d success. In completc glory she reveal'd herself; And, whereas I was black and swart before, With those clear rays which she infuz'd' on me,
That beauty an I bleft with, which you fee.
Dan. Thou hast astonish'd me with thy high terms:
Pucel. I am prepar’d; here is my keen-edg'd sword, Deck'd with fine Flow'r-de-luces on each side ; The which, at Tourain in St. Catharine's church, Out of a deal of old iron I cliofe forth.
Daru. Thencome o'God's name, for I fear no woman. Pucel. And while I live, I'll ne'er fiy from a man.
they fight, and Joan la Pucelle overcomes. Dau. Stay, stay thy hands, thon art an Amazon; And fightest with the sword of Debora. [weak.
Pucel. Christ's mother helps me, else I were too
Dan Who-e'er helps thee, 'tis thou that must Impatiently I burn with thy desire; [help me: My heart and hands tliou hast at once fubdu'd; Excellent Pucelle, if thy name be so, Let me thy servant and not Sovereign be, 'Tis the French Dauphin fueth to thee thus.
Pucel. Inult not yield to any rites of love, For my profeffion's facred from above : When I have chased all thy foes from hence, Then will I think upon a recompence. Dau. Mean time, look gracious on thy prostrate
thrall. Reig. My lord, methinks, is very long in talk.
Álan. Doubtless, he shrives this wonian to her smock; Else ne'cr could he so long protract his speech. Reig. Shall we difturblim, fince he keeps no mean?
may mean more than we poor men do
know: These women are shrewd tempters with their tongues.
Reig. My lord, where are you? what devise you on?
Pucel. Why, no I say; distrustful recreants !
Dau. What she says, I'll confirm ; we'll fight it out.
Pucel. Afflign'd I am to be the English scourge.
Dau. Was Mahomet inspired with a Dove ?
Alan. Leave off delays, and let us raise the fiege.
Dau. Presently try : come, let's away about it.
S CE N E
The Tower-gates, in LONDON.
Glou. I since Henry's death, 1 fear, there is some