Tho' ftill the famish'd English, like pale ghofts, Alan. They want their porridge, and their fat bullEither they must be dieted like mules, [beeves; And have their provender ty'd to their mouths, Or piteous they will look like drowned mice. Reig. Let's raife 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 alarm: we will rush on them. Now for the honour of the forlorn French. Him I forgive my death, that killeth me, When he fees me go back one foot, or fly. [Exeunt. [Here alarm, they are beaten back by the English with great lofs. Re-enter Charles, Alanfon, and Reignier. Char. Who ever faw the like what men have I? Dogs, cowards, daftards! I would ne'er have fled, Reig. Salisbury is a defp'rate homicide, He fighteth as one weary of his life: Alan. Froyfard, a countryman of ours, records, For none but Sampfons and Goliafes It fendeth forth to fkirmish; one to ten! Char. Let's leave this town, for they are hair-brain'd And hunger will inforce them be more eager. [flaves, These were two of the most famous in the lift of Charlemagne's twelve peers; and their exploits are render'd fo ridiculously and equally extravagant by the old romancers, that from thence arcfe that favi.g amongst our plain and fenfible ancestors, of giving one a Rowland for bis Oliver, to fignify the matching one incredible lye with another. Mr. Warburton. Of Of old I know them; rather with their teeth Enter the Baftard of Orleans. Baft. Where's the Prince Dauphin? I have news for him. Dan. Baftard of Orleans, thrice welcome to us. Baft. Methinks your looks are fad, your chear appal'd. Hath the late overthrow wrought this offence? A holy maid hither with me I bring, Which by a vifion, fent to her from heav'n, : And drive the English forth the bounds of France. Dau. Go, call her in; but firft, to try her skill, SCENE VI. Enter Joan la Pucelle. Reig. Fair maid, is't thou wilt do thefe wondrous, feats? Pucel. Reignier, is't thou that thinkeft to beguile me? Be not amaz'd; there's nothing hid from me : Stand back, you Lords, and give us leave a while, There were no nine Sibyls of Rome; but he confounds things, and mistakes this for the nine books of Sibylline oracles, brought to o.e of the Tarquins. Mi Warburton. Reig. She takes upon her bravely at first dash. Pucel. Dauphin, I am by birth a fhepherd's daughter, My wit untrain'd in any kind of art: Heav'n and our Lady gracious hath it pleas'd Lo, whilst I waited on my tender lambs, My courage try by combat, if thou dar'ft, Dau. Thou haft aftonifh'd me with thy high terms: Only this proof I'll of thy valour make, In fingle combat thou fhalt buckle with me; Pucel. I am prepar'd; here is my keen-edg'd sword, [Here they fight, and Joan la Pucelle overcomes, Dan. Stay, ftay thy hands; thou art an Amazon, And fighteft with the fword of Debora. Pucel. Chrift's mother helps me, elfe I were too weak. Dau. Whoe'er helps thee, 'tis thou that must help Impatiently I burn with thy defire; My heart and hands thou haft at once fubdu'd; [me: Let Let me thy fervant and not sovereign be; Pucel. I must not yield to any rites of love, Dau. Mean time, look gracious on thy proftrate thrall. Reig. My Lord, methinks, is very long in talk. Alan. Doubtless he fhrives this woman to her fmock; Elfe ne'er could he fo long protract his fpeech. Reig. Shall we disturb him, since he keeps no mean? Alan. He may mean more than we poor men do know; These women are fhrewd tempters with their tongues. Reig. My Lord, where are you? what devise you on? Shall we give over Orleans or no? Pucel. Why, no, I fay; diftrustful recreants! • Which never ceaseth to enlarge itself, Now am I like that proud infulting fhip, Alan. Leave off delays, and let us raise the siege. *Meaning the four daughters of Philip, mentioned AƐs xxi, who; had all the gift of prophefying; he being there alfo called Philip the Evangelift. Reig. Woman, do what thou canft to fave our ho nours; Drive them from Orleans, and be immortaliz'd. Dau. Prefently try; come, let's away about it. No prophet will I trust, if she proves falfe. [Exeunt. SCENE VII. The Tower-gates in London. Enter Gloucester, with his ferving-men. Glou. I am this day come to furvey the Tower; Since Henry's death, I fear there is conveyance *. Where be thefe warders, that they wait not here? Open the gates. 'Tis Gloucester that calls. 1 Ward. Who's there that knocketh fo imperiously? I Man. It is the noble Duke of Gloucefter. 2 Ward. Whoe'er he be, you may not be let in. 1 Man. Villains, answer you fo the Lord Protector? I Ward. The Lord protect him! fo we anfwer him; We do no otherwife than we are will'd. Glou. Who willed you? or whofe will stands but There's none Protector of the realm but I. Break up the gates, I'll be your warrantize; [mine? Gloucester's men rush at the Tower-gates, and Woodville the Lieutenant fpeaks within. Wood. What noife is this? what traitors have we here? Glo. Lieutenant, is it you whofe voice I hear? Open the gates; here's Glo'fter that would enter. Wood. Have patience, Noble Duke; I may not open; The Cardinal of Winchester forbids: From him I have express commandment, That thou, nor none of thine, fhall be let in. Glou. Faint-hearted Woodville, prizeft him 'fore me? Arrogant Winchefer, that haughty prelate, Whom Henry, our late Sovereign, ne'er could brook? Thou art no friend to God, or to the King: Open the gate, or I'll fhut thee out fhortly. Serv. Open the gates there to the Lord Protector; We'll burst them open, if you come not quickly. way. By conveyance is meant theft, a clandeftine conveyance of things a Enter |