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council.
God speed the parliament! who shall be the speaker? Talbot Dare ye come forth and meet us in the field? Pucelle

Belike your lordship takes us then for fools,
To try if that our own be ours or no.

Talbot

I speak not to that railing Hecate,
But unto thee, Alençon, and the rest;
Will ye, like soldiers, come and fight it out?

Alençon Signior, no. Talbot

Signior, hang! base muleters of France!
Like peasant foot-boys do they keep the walls
And dare not take up arms like gentlemen.

Pucelle

Away, captains! let’s get us from the walls;
For Talbot means no goodness by his looks.
God be wi’ you, my lord! we came but to tell you
That we are here. Exeunt from the walls.

Talbot

And there will we be too, ere it be long,
Or else reproach be Talbot’s greatest fame!
Vow, Burgundy, by honour of thy house,
Prick’d on by public wrongs sustain’d in France,
Either to get the town again or die:
And I, as sure as English Henry lives
And as his father here was conqueror,
As sure as in this late-betrayed town
Great Coeur-de-lion’s heart was buried,
So sure I swear to get the town or die.

Burgundy My vows are equal partners with thy vows. Talbot

But, ere we go, regard this dying prince,
The valiant Duke of Bedford. Come, my lord,
We will bestow you in some better place,
Fitter for sickness and for crazy age.

Bedford

Lord Talbot, do not so dishonour me:
Here will I sit before the walls of Rouen
And will be partner of your weal or woe.

Burgundy Courageous Bedford, let us now persuade you. Bedford

Not to be gone from hence; for once I read
That stout Pendragon in his litter sick
Came to the field and vanquished his foes:
Methinks I should revive the soldiers’ hearts,
Because I ever found them as myself.

Talbot

Undaunted spirit in a dying breast!
Then be it so: heavens keep old Bedford safe!
And now no more ado, brave Burgundy,
But gather we our forces out of hand
And set upon our boasting enemy. Exeunt all but Bedford and Attendants.

An alarum: excursions. Enter Sir John Fastolfe and a Captain. Captain Whither away, Sir John Fastolfe, in such haste? Fastolfe

Whither away! to save myself by flight:
We are like to have the overthrow again.

Captain What! will you fly, and leave Lord Talbot? Fastolfe

Ay,
All the Talbots in the world, to save my life! Exit.

Captain Cowardly knight! ill fortune follow thee! Exit. Retreat: excursions. La Pucelle, Alençon, and Charles fly. Bedford

Now, quiet soul, depart when heaven please,
For I have seen our enemies’ overthrow.
What is the trust or strength of foolish man?
They that of late were daring with their scoffs
Are glad and fain by flight to save themselves. Bedford dies, and is carried in by two in his chair.

An alarum. Re-enter Talbot, Burgundy, and the rest. Talbot

Lost, and recover’d in a day again!
This is a double honour, Burgundy:
Yet heavens have glory for this victory!

Burgundy

Warlike and martial Talbot, Burgundy
Enshrines thee in his heart and there erects
Thy noble deeds as valour’s monuments.

Talbot

Thanks, gentle duke. But where is Pucelle now?
I think her old familiar is asleep:
Now where’s the Bastard’s braves, and Charles his gleeks?
What, all amort? Rouen hangs her head for grief
That such a valiant company are fled.
Now will we take some order in the town,
Placing therein some expert officers,
And then depart to Paris to the king,
For there young Henry with his nobles lie.

Burgundy What wills Lord Talbot pleaseth Burgundy. Talbot

But yet, before we go, let’s not forget
The noble Duke of Bedford late deceased,
But see his exequies fulfill’d in Rouen:
A braver soldier never couched lance,
A gentler heart did never sway in court;
But kings and mightiest potentates must die,
For that’s the end of human misery. Exeunt.

Scene III

The plains near Rouen.

Enter Charles, the Bastard of Orleans, Alençon, La Pucelle, and forces. Pucelle

Dismay not, princes, at this accident,
Nor grieve that Rouen is so recovered:
Care is no cure, but rather corrosive,
For things that are not to be remedied.
Let frantic 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 rest will be but ruled.

Charles

We have been guided by thee hitherto
And of thy cunning had no diffidence:
One sudden foil shall never breed distrust.

Bastard

Search out thy wit for secret policies,
And we will make thee famous through the world.

Alençon

We’ll set thy statue in some holy place,
And have thee reverenced like a blessed saint:
Employ thee then, sweet virgin, for our good.

Pucelle

Then thus it must be; this doth Joan devise:
By fair persuasions mix’d with sugar’d words
We will entice the Duke of Burgundy
To leave the Talbot and to follow us.

Charles

Ay, marry, sweeting, if we could do that,
France were no place for Henry’s warriors;
Nor should that nation boast it so with us,
But be extirped from our provinces.

Alençon

For ever should they be expulsed from France
And not have title of an earldom here.

Pucelle

Your honours shall perceive how I will work
To bring this matter to the wished end. Drum sounds afar off.
Hark! by the sound of drum you may perceive
Their powers are marching unto Paris-ward.

Here sound an English march. Enter, and pass over at a distance, Talbot and his forces.

There goes the Talbot, with his colours spread,
And all the troops of English after him.

French march. Enter the Duke of Burgundy and forces.

Now in the rearward comes the duke and his:
Fortune in favour makes him lag behind.
Summon a parley; we will talk with him. Trumpets sound a parley.

Charles A parley with the Duke of Burgundy! Burgundy Who craves a parley with the Burgundy? Pucelle The princely Charles of France, thy countryman. Burgundy What say’st thou, Charles? for I am marching hence. Charles Speak, Pucelle, and enchant him with thy words. Pucelle

Brave Burgundy, undoubted hope of France!
Stay, let thy humble handmaid speak to thee.

Burgundy Speak on; but be not over-tedious. Pucelle

Look on thy country, look on fertile France,
And

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