Alan. Of all exploits fince firft I follow'd arms, Ne'er heard I of a warlike enterprize

More venturous, or defperate, than this.

Baft. I think, this Talbot is a fiend of hell.

Reig. If not of hell, the heavens, fure, favour him.
Alan. Here cometh Charles; I marvel, how he fped.
Enter Dauphin, and Joan.

Baft. Tut! holy Joan was his defenfive guard.
Dau. Is this thy cunning, thou deceitful dame?
Didft thou at firft, to flatter us withal,

Make us partakers of a little gain,

That now our lofs might be ten times fo much?

Pucel. Wherefore is Charles impatient with his friend? At all times will you have my pow'r alike?

Sleeping, or waking, muft I ftill prevail?

Or will you blame and lay the fault on me?
Improvident foldiers! had your watch been good,

This fudden mischief never could have fall'n.

Dau. Duke of Alanfon, this was your default,

That, being captain of the watch to-night,

Did look no better to that weighty charge.

Alan. Had all our quarters been as fafely kept,
As that whereof I had the government,

We had not been thus fhamefully furpriz'd.
Baft. Mine was secure.

Reig. And fo was mine, my lord.

Dau. And, for myself, moft part of all this night,
Within her quarter, and mine own precinct,
I was employ'd in paffing to and fro,

About relieving of the fentinels:

Then how, or which way, fhould they first break in?
Pucel. Queftion, my lord, no further of the cafe,
How, or which way; 'tis fure, they found fome part
But weakly guarded, where the breach was made :
And now there refts no other shift but this,

To gather foldiers, fcatter'd and difperfs'd,

And lay new platforms to endamage them.

SCENE III.

Within the walls of Orleans.

[Exeunt.

Alarum. Enter a Soldier crying, a Talbot! a Talbot! the French fly, leaving their cloths behind.

Sol. I'll be fo bold to take what they have left:

The cry of Talbot ferves me for a fword;

For I have loaden me with many spoils,

Ufing 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 overveil'd the earth.

Here found retreat, and ceafe 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 curfed town.
Now have I pay'd my vow unto his foul:
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 chiefeft temple I'll erect

A tomb, wherein his corps fhall be interr'd:
Upon the which, that every one may read,
Shall be engrav'd the fack of Orleans,

The treach'rous manner of his mournful death,
And what a terrour 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 falfe confederates.

Bed. 'Tis thought, lord Talbot, when the fight began,

Rous'd

Rous'd on the fudden from their drowsy beds,
They did, amongst the troops of armed men,
Leap o'er the walls, for refuge in the field.

Bur. Myself, as far as I could well difcern
For fmoke, and dufty vapours of the night,
Am fure, I fcar'd the dauphin and his trull;
When arm in arm they both came fwiftly running,
Like to a pair of loving turtledoves,

That could not live afunder day or night.

After that things are fet in order here,

We'll follow them with all the pow'r we have.

Enter a Meflenger.

Meff. All hail, my lords! which of this princely train ye the warlike Talbot, for his acts

Call

So much applauded through the realm of France?

Tal. Here is the Talbot, who would speak with him?
Me. The virtuous lady, countefs of Auvergne,
With modesty admiring thy renown,

By me entreats, great lord, thou wouldft vouchfafe
To vifit her poor caftle where she lies;

That she may boaft, fhe hath beheld the man
Whofe glory fills the world with loud report.

Bur. Is it ev'n fo? nay, then, I fee, our wars

Will turn into a peaceful comick sport,

When ladies crave to be encounter'd with.

You can't, my lord, defpife her gentle fuit.

Tal. Nay, truft me there: for, when a world of men

Could not prevail with all their oratory,

Yet hath a woman's kindness overrul'd:

And therefore tell her, I return great thanks,

And in fubmiffion 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 faid, unbidden guests

Are often welcomeft when they are gone.

Tal.

Tal. Well then, alone, fince there's no remedy,

I mean to prove this lady's courtesy.

Come hither, captain; you perceive my mind.
Capt. I do, my lord, and mean accordingly.

[whispers. [Exeunt.

Count.

SCENE IV.

The Countess of Auvergne's Cafle.

Enter the Countess, and her Porter.

ORTER, remember what I gave in charge, And, when you've done fo, bring the keys to me. Port. Madam, I will.

Count. The plot is lay'd: if all things fall out right, I fhall as famous be by this exploit,

As Scythian Tomyris by Cyrus' death.

Great is the rumour of this dreadful knight,

And his atchievements of no lefs account:

Fain would mine eyes be witness with mine ears,

To give their cenfure of these rare reports.

Enter Meffenger, and Talbot.

Mel. Madam, according as your ladyship

By meffage crav'd, fo is lord Talbot come.

Count. And he is welcome: what! is this the man?
Meff. Madam, it is.

Count. Is this the fcourge of France?

Is this the Talbot fo much fear'd abroad,

That with his name the mothers ftill their babes?

I fee, report is fabulous and false :

I thought, I should have seen some Hercules,
A fecond Hector, for his grim aspect,

And large proportion of his ftrong-knit limbs.
Alas! this is a child, a filly dwarf:

[Exit.

It cannot be, this weak and wrizled shrimp
Should ftrike fuch terrour in his enemies.

Tal. Madam, I have been bold to trouble you:
But, fince your ladyship is not at leisure,

I'll fort fome other time to vifit you.

Count. What means he now? Go afk, whither he -Go goes. Meff. Stay, my lord Talbot, for my lady craves To know the cause of your abrupt departure. Tal. Marry, for that she's in a wrong belief, I go to certify her, Talbot's here.

Enter Porter with keys.

Count. If thou be he, then art thou prisoner.
Tal. Pris'ner to whom?

Count. To me blood-thirsty lord:

And for that cause I train'd thee to my house.
Long time thy fhadow hath been thrall to me,
For in my gallery thy picture hangs :

But now the fubftance fhall endure the like;
And I will chain these legs and arms of thine,
That haft by tyranny, thefe many years,

Wafted our country, flain our citizens,

And fent our fons and husbands captivate

Tal. Ha, ha, ha!

Count. Laugheft thou, wretch? thy mirth fhall turn to moan. Tal. I laugh to see your ladyfhip fo fond,

To think that you have aught but Talbot's fhadow

Whereon to practise your severity.

Count. Why? art thou not the man?

Tal. I am, indeed.

Count. Then have I fubftance too.

Tal. No, no, I am but shadow of myself:

You are deceiv'd, my fubftance is not here;
For what you fee is but the smallest part
And leaft proportion of humanity:

I tell you, madam, were the whole frame here,