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In memory of her, when she is dead,
Enter to the Gates, a French Sergeant, and Two
Sentinels. Sery. Sirs, take your places, and be vigilant: If any noise, or soldier, you perceive, Near to the walls, by some apparent sign, Let us have knowledge at the court of guard ?. 1 Sent. Sergeant, you shall. [Exit Sergeant.]
Thus are poor servitors (When others sleep upon their quiet beds) Constrain’d to watch in darkness, rain, and cold.
commended of the pyramids. Ælian relates that she married Psammetichus, king of Egypt, who fell in love with her sandal, which was dropped near him by an eagle, which had carried it off while she was bathing.
4 « In what price the noble poems of Homer were holden by Alexander the Great, insomuch that everie night they were layd under his pillow, and by day were carried in the rich jewel coffer of Darius, lately before vanquished by him.' Puttenham's Arte of English Poesie, 1589.
| The same as guard-room.
Enter TALBOT, BEDFORD, BURGUNDY, and
Forces, with Scaling Ladders; their Drums beat-
Tal. Lord regent,--and redoubted Burgundy,
sorcery. Bed. Coward of France ?-how much he wrongs
Bur. Traitors have never other company.-
Tal. A maid, they say.
A maid! and be so martial!
Bed. Ascend, brave Talbot; we will follow thee.
Tal. Not all together: better far, I guess,
Bed. Agreed ; I'll to yon corner.
And I to this.
Now, Salisbury ! for thee, and for the right
.a Talbot! and all enter by the Town. Sent. [Within.] Arm, arm! the enemy doth make
The French leap over the Walls in their shirts.
Enter, several ways, BASTARD, ALENÇON,
Alen. Of all exploits, since first I follow'd arms, Never heard I of a warlike enterprise More venturous, or desperate than this.
Bast. I think, this Talbot be a fiend of hell. Reig. If not of hell, the heavens, sure, favour him. Alen. Here cometh Charles; I marvel how he sped.
Enter CHARLES and LA PUCELLE. Bast. Tut! holy Joan was his defensive guard.
Char. Is this thy cunning, thou deceitful dame? Didst thou at first, to flatter us withal, Make us partakers of a little gain, That now our loss might be ten times so much? Puc. Wherefore is Charles impatient with his
friend? 2 Unready is undressed. Thus in Chapman's Monsieur D'Olive, 1606, “You are not going to bed; I see you are not yet unready.' A stage direction in The Two Maids of Moreclock, 1609, says • Enter James unready, in his nightcap, garterless.' So in Cotgrave, ' Deshabiller, to unclothe, make unreddie, put or take off clothes.'
At all times will
my power alike?
you blame and lay the fault on me?Improvident soldiers ! had your watch been good, This sudden mischief never could have fall’n.
Char. Duke of Alençon, this was your default; That, being captain of the watch to-night, Did look no better to that weighty charge.
Alen. Had all your quarters been as safely kept,
Bast. Mine was secure.
And so was mine, my lord.
Puc. Question, my lords, no further of the case, How, or which way; 'tis sure, they found some
place But weakly guarded, where the breach was made, And now there rests no other shift but this,To gather our soldiers, scatter'd and dispers’d, And lay new platforms 3 to endamage them.
Alarum. Enter an English Soldier, crying a Tal
bot! a Talbot! They fly, leaving their Clothes behind.
Sold. I'll be so bold to take what they have left, The cry
of Talbot serves me for a sword; For I have loaden me with many spoils, Using no other weapon but his name. [Exit.
3 Plans, schemes.
SCENE II. Orleans.
Within the Town.
Enter TALBOT, BEDFORD, BURGUNDY, a Cap
tain, and Others. Bed. The day begins to break, and night is fled, Whose pitchy mantle over-veil'd the earth. Here sound retreat, and cease our hot pursuit.
[Retreat sounded. Tal. Bring forth the body of old Salisbury; And here advance it in the market-place, The middle centre of this cursed town.Now have I paid my vow unto his soul; For every drop of blood was drawn from him, There hath at least five Frenchmen died to-night. And, that hereafter ages may behold What ruin happen’d in revenge of him, Within their chiefest temple I'll erect A tomb, wherein his corpse shall be interr'd: Upon the which, that every one may read, Shall be engrav'd the sack of Orleans; The treacherous manner of his mournful death, And what a terror 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 false confederates.
Bur. Myself (as far as I could well discern,