Manet Exeter.

Exe. Ay, we may march in England or in France,
Not feeing what is likely to enfue;

This late diffention grown betwixt the Peers
Burns under feigned afhes of forg'd love,
And will at last break out into a flame.
As fefter'd members rot but by degrees,
'Till bones and flesh and finews fall away;
So will this bafe and envious difcord breed.
And now I fear that fatal prophefy,
Which in the time of Henry nam'd the Fifth
Was in the mouth of ev'ry fucking babe;
That Henry born at Monmouth fhould win all,
And Henry born at Windfor fhould lofe all:
Which is fo plain, that Exeter doth wish
His days may finish ere that hapless time.

[Exit.

SCENE IV. Changes to Roan in France. Enter Joan la Pucelle difguis'd, and four Soldiers with facks upon their backs.

Pucel. These are the city gates, the gates of Roan,
Through which our policy muft make a breach.
Take heed, be wary how you place your words,
Talk like the vulgar fort 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 flothful watch but weak,
I'll by a fign give notice to our friends,
That Charles the Dauphin may encounter them.
Sol. Our facks shall be a mean to fack the city,
And we be lords and rulers over Roan;

Therefore we'll knock.

Watch. Qui va la?

Pucel. Paifans pauvres gens de France.

[Knocks.

Poor market-folks that come to fell their corn.
Watch. Enter, go in, the market-bell is rung.
Pueel. Now, Roan, I'll fhake thy bulwarks to the ground.

Enter Dauphin, Baftard, and Reignier.

Dau. St. Dennis bless this happy stratagem! And once again we'll fleep fecure in Roan.

[Exeunt.

Baft.

Baft. Here enter'd Pucelle and her partisans
Now fhe is there, how will fhe specifie
Where is the best and safeft paffage in ?

Reig. By thrufting out a torch from yonder tow'r, Which once difcern'd, fhews that her meaning is No way to that (for weakness) which the enter❜d. 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 Talbotines.

Baft. See, noble Charles, the beacon of our friend, The burning torch in yonder turret ftands.

Dau. Now fhines 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 excurfion.

Tal. France, thou fhalt rue this treason with thy tears, If Talbot but furvive thy treachery.

Pucelle, that witch, that damned forcerefs,
Hath wrought this hellish mischief unawares,
That hardly we escap'd being prize of France.

SCENE V.

[Exit.

An alarm: excurfions. Bedford brought in fick in a chair. Enter Talbot and Burgundy without; within Joan la Pucelle, Dauphin, Baftard, and Alanfon 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 fhameless courtezan : I truft ere long to choak thee with thine own,

And make thee curfe the harvest of that corn.

Dau. Your Grace muft ftarve perhaps before that time. Bed. Oh, let not words but deeds revenge this treafon ! Pucel. What will you do, good grey-beard? break a lance, And run a tilt at death within a chair?

Tal. Foul fiend of France and hag of all despight, Incompass'd with thy luftful paramours,

Be

Becomes it thee to taunt his valiant age,
And twit with cowardise a man half dead?
Damfel, I'll have a bout with you again,
Or elfe let Talbot perish with his shame.

Pucel. Are you fo hot? yet, Pucelle, hold thy peace; If Talbot do but thunder, rain will follow.

[They whisper together in counsel
God fpeed the parliament! who fhall 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 fpeak not to that railing Hecate,
But unto thee, Alanfon, and the reft.
Will ye like foldiers come and fight it out?
Alan. Seignior, no.

Tal. Seignier, hang then :-bafe muleteers of Franca! Like peafant 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 will we be too ere it be long,

Or else reproach be Talbot's greatest fame!
Yow, Burgundy, by honour of thy house,
Prick'd on by publick wrongs fuftain'd in France,
Either to get the town again or die.
And I as fure as English Henry lives,
And as his father here was conqueror,
As fure as in this late betrayed town
Great Courdelion's heart was buried;
So fure I fwear to get the town or die.

Burg. My vows are equal partners with thy vows.
Tal. But ere we go, regard this dying Prince,
The valiant Duke of Bedford: come, my Lord, ́
We will beftow you in fome better place,
Fitter for fickness and for crazy age.

Bed. Lord Talbot, do not so dishonour me :
Here I will fit before the walls of Roan,
And will be partner of your weal and woe.
VOL. V.
Cc.

Burg.

Burg. Couragious Bedford, let us now perfuade you.
Bed. Not to be gone from hence: for once I read,
That ftout Pendragon in his litter fick

Came to the field and vanquished his foes.
Methinks I fhould revive the foldiers hearts,
Because I ever found them as my felf.

Tal. Undaunted spirit in a dying breaft!
Then be it fo: heav'ns keep old Bedford fafe!
And now no more ado, brave Burgundy,
But gather we our forces out of hand,

And fet upon our boasting enemy.

[Exit.

An alarm: excurfions: *Enter Sir John Falstaff, and a Captain.

Cap. Whither away, Sir John Falstaff, in fuch hafte ? Fal. Whither away? to fave my self by flight.

We are like to have the overthrow again.

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

my

life.

[Exit.

All the Talbots in the world to fave:
Cap. Cowardly Knight, ill fortune follow thee! [Exit.
Retreat: excurfions. Pucelle, Alanfon, and Dauphin fly.
Bed. Now, quiet foul, depart when heav'n fhall please!
For I have seen our enemies overthrow.

What is the truft or strength of foolish man?
They that of late were daring with their scoffs,
Are glad and fain by flight to fave themselves.

[Dies, and is carried off in his chair. SCENE VI.

An alarm: Enter Talbot, Burgundy, and the reft. Tal. Loft and recover'd in a day again?

This is a double honour, Burgundy;

Yet heav'ns have glory for this victory!

Burg. Warlike and martial Talbot, Burgundy Infhrines 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.

Falftaff is here introduced again, who was dead in Henry the Fitth, A&t 2 Scene 3; the occafion whereof is, that this Play was written by Shakespear before Hen. 4. or Hen, 5. the laft lines of lien, ý.

See

Now

Now where's the bastard's braves, and Charles his gleeks? What, all a-mort? Roan hangs her head for grief,

That such a valiant company are fled.

Now we will take fome order in the town,
Placing therein fome expert officers,
And then depart to Paris to the King;
For there young Henry with his Nobles lyes.
Burg. What wills Lord Talbot, pleaseth Burgundy.
Tal. But yet before we go let's not forget
The noble Duke of Bedford, late deceas'd,
But fee his exequies fulfill'd in Roan.
A braver foldier never couched launce,
A gentler heart did never fway in Court.
But Kings and mightiest Potentates must die,
For that's the end of human mifery.

SCENE VII.

[Exeunt.

Enter Dauphin, Baftard, Alanson, and Joan la Pucelle. Pucel. Difmay not, Princes, at this accident, Nor grieve that Roan is fo recovered. Care is no cure, but rather corrofive, For things that are not to be remedy'd.. Let frantick Talbot triumph for a while, And like a Peacock sweep along his tail; We'll pull his plumes and take away his train, If Dauphin and the reft will be but rul'd. Dau. We have been guided by thee hitherto, And of thy cunning had no diffidence. One fudden foil fhall never breed diftruft.

Baft. Search out thy wit for fecret policies, And we will make thee famous through the world. Alan. We'll fet thy ftatue in some holy place, And have thee reverenc'd like a bleffed Saint. Employ thee then, fweet virgin, for our good. Pucel. Then thus it must be, this doth Joan devife: By fair perfwafions mix'd with sugar'd words, We will entice the Duke of Burgundy To leave the Talbot, and to follow us.

N

Dau. Ay, marry, fweeting, if we could do that,
France were no place for Henry's warriors;
Nor fhall that nation boaft it fo with us,

Cc 2

But