The Works of William Shakespeare [Cambridge Edition] [Vol. 5 of 9] · William Shakespeare
SCENE V. _The same_.
_Here an Alarum again: and_ TALBOT _pursueth the_ DAUPHIN, _and driveth him: then enter_ JOAN LA PUCELLE, _driving Englishmen before her, and exit after them: then re-enter_ TALBOT. _Tal._ Where is my strength, my valour, and my force? [aae001] Our English troops retire, I cannot stay them; A woman clad in armour chaseth them. [aae003] _Re-enter_ LA PUCELLE. Here, here she comes. I’ll have a bout with thee; Devil or devil’s dam, I’ll conjure thee: ·aae005· Blood will I draw on thee, thou art a witch, And straightway give thy soul to him thou servest. _Puc._ Come, come, ’tis only I that must disgrace thee. [_Here they fight._ _Tal._ Heavens, can you suffer hell so to prevail? [aae009] My breast I’ll burst with straining of my courage ·aae010· And from my shoulders crack my arms asunder, But I will chastise this high-minded strumpet. [_They fight again._ _Puc._ Talbot, farewell; thy hour is not yet come: I must go victual Orleans forthwith. [aae014] [_A short alarum: then enter the town with soldiers._ O’ertake me, if thou canst; I scorn thy strength. ·aae015· Go, go, cheer up thy hungry-starved men; [aae016] Help Salisbury to make his testament: This day is ours, as many more shall be. [_Exit._
_Tal._ My thoughts are whirled like a potter’s wheel; I know not where I am, nor what I do: ·aae020· A witch, by fear, not force, like Hannibal, Drives back our troops and conquers as she lists: So bees with smoke and doves with noisome stench Are from their hives and houses driven away. They call’d us for our fierceness English dogs; ·aae025· Now, like to whelps, we crying run away. [aae026] [_A short alarum._ Hark, countrymen! either renew the fight, Or tear the lions out of England’s coat; Renounce your soil, give sheep in lions’ stead: Sheep run not half so treacherous from the wolf, [aae030] Or horse or oxen from the leopard, As you fly from your oft-subdued slaves. [_Alarum. Here another skirmish._ It will not be: retire into your trenches: You all consented unto Salisbury’s death, For none would strike a stroke in his revenge. ·aae035· Pucelle is enter’d into Orleans, In spite of us or aught that we could do. O, would I were to die with Salisbury! The shame hereof will make me hide my head. [_Exit Talbot. Alarum; retreat; flourish._
Text from Project Gutenberg, public domain in the United States.