Shakespeare's First Folio Part 354

Exet. I, we may march in England, or in France, Not seeing what is likely to ensue: This late dissention growne betwixt the Peeres, Burnes vnder fained ashes of forg'd loue, And will at last breake out into a flame, As festred members rot but by degree, Till bones and flesh and sinewes fall away, So will this base and enuious discord breed.

And now I feare that fatall Prophecie, Which in the time of Henry, nam'd the Fift, Was in the mouth of euery sucking Babe, That Henry borne at Monmouth should winne all, And Henry borne at Windsor, loose all: Which is so plaine, that Exeter doth wish, His dayes may finish, ere that haplesse time.

Enter.

Scoena Secunda.

Enter Pucell disguis'd, with foure Souldiors with Sacks vpon their backs.

Pucell. These are the Citie Gates, the Gates of Roan, Through which our Pollicy must make a breach.

Take heed, be wary how you place your words, Talke like the vulgar sort of Market men, That come to gather Money for their Corne.

If we haue entrance, as I hope we shall, And that we finde the slouthfull Watch but weake, Ile by a signe giue notice to our friends, That Charles the Dolphin may encounter them

Souldier. Our Sacks shall be a meane to sack the City, And we be Lords and Rulers ouer Roan, Therefore wee'le knock.

Knock.

Watch. Che la

Pucell. Peasauns la pouure gens de Fraunce, Poore Market folkes that come to sell their Corne

Watch. Enter, goe in, the Market Bell is rung

Pucell. Now Roan, Ile shake thy Bulwarkes to the ground.

Exeunt.

Enter Charles, b.a.s.t.a.r.d, Alanson.

Charles. Saint Dennis blesse this happy Stratageme, And once againe wee'le sleepe secure in Roan

b.a.s.t.a.r.d. Here entred Pucell, and her Practisants: Now she is there, how will she specifie?

Here is the best and safest pa.s.sage in

Reig. By thrusting out a Torch from yonder Tower, Which once discern'd, shewes that her meaning is, No way to that (for weaknesse) which she entred.

Enter Pucell on the top, thrusting out a Torch burning.

Pucell. Behold, this is the happy Wedding Torch, That ioyneth Roan vnto her Countreymen, But burning fatall to the Talbonites

b.a.s.t.a.r.d. See n.o.ble Charles the Beacon of our friend, The burning Torch in yonder Turret stands

Charles. Now s.h.i.+ne it like a Commet of Reuenge, A Prophet to the fall of all our Foes

Reig. Deferre no time, delayes haue dangerous ends, Enter and cry, the Dolphin, presently, And then doe execution on the Watch.

Alarum.

An Alarum. Talbot in an Excursion.

Talb. France, thou shalt rue this Treason with thy teares, If Talbot but suruiue thy Trecherie.

Pucell that Witch, that d.a.m.ned Sorceresse, Hath wrought this h.e.l.lish Mischiefe vnawares, That hardly we escap't the Pride of France.

Enter.

An Alarum: Excursions. Bedford brought in sicke in a Chayre.

Enter Talbot and Burgonie without: within, Pucell, Charles, b.a.s.t.a.r.d, and Reigneir on the Walls.

Pucell. G.o.d morrow Gallants, want ye Corn for Bread?

I thinke the Duke of Burgonie will fast, Before hee'le buy againe at such a rate.

'Twas full of Darnell: doe you like the taste?

Burg. Scoffe on vile Fiend, and shamelesse Curtizan, I trust ere long to choake thee with thine owne, And make thee curse the Haruest of that Corne

Charles. Your Grace may starue (perhaps) before that time

Bedf. Oh let no words, but deedes, reuenge this Treason

Pucell. What will you doe, good gray-beard?

Breake a Launce, and runne a-Tilt at Death, Within a Chayre

Talb. Foule Fiend of France, and Hag of all despight, Incompa.s.s'd with thy l.u.s.tfull Paramours, Becomes it thee to taunt his valiant Age, And twit with Cowardise a man halfe dead?

Damsell, Ile haue a bowt with you againe, Or else let Talbot perish with this shame

Pucell. Are ye so hot, Sir: yet Pucell hold thy peace, If Talbot doe but Thunder, Raine will follow.

They whisper together in counsell.

G.o.d speed the Parliament: who shall be the Speaker?

Talb. Dare yee come forth, and meet vs in the field?

Pucell. Belike your Lords.h.i.+p takes vs then for fooles, To try if that our owne be ours, or no

Talb. I speake not to that rayling Hecate, But vnto thee Alanson, and the rest.

Will ye, like Souldiors, come and fight it out?

Alans. Seignior no

Talb. Seignior hang: base Muleters of France, Like Pesant foot-Boyes doe they keepe the Walls, And dare not take vp Armes, like Gentlemen

Pucell. Away Captaines, let's get vs from the Walls, For Talbot meanes no goodnesse by his Lookes.

G.o.d b'uy my Lord, we came but to tell you That wee are here.

Exeunt. from the Walls.

Talb. And there will we be too, ere it be long, Or else reproach be Talbots greatest fame.

Vow Burgonie, by honor of thy House, p.r.i.c.kt on by publike Wrongs sustain'd in France, Either to get the Towne againe, or dye.

And I, as sure as English Henry liues, And as his Father here was Conqueror; As sure as in this late betrayed Towne, Great Cordelions Heart was buryed; So sure I sweare, to get the Towne, or dye

Burg. My Vowes are equall partners with thy Vowes

Talb. But ere we goe, regard this dying Prince, The valiant Duke of Bedford: Come my Lord, We will bestow you in some better place, Fitter for sicknesse, and for crasie age