| ACT I 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
] |
| TALBOT | Where is my strength, my valour, and my force? |
| Our English troops retire, I cannot stay them: |
| A woman clad in armour chaseth them. |
[Re-enter JOAN LA PUCELLE] |
| Here, here she comes. I'll have a bout with thee; |
| Devil or devil's dam, I'll conjure thee: | 5 |
| Blood will I draw on thee, thou art a witch, |
| And straightway give thy soul to him thou servest. |
| JOAN LA PUCELLE | Come, come, 'tis only I that must disgrace thee. |
| [Here they fight] |
| TALBOT | Heavens, can you suffer hell so to prevail? |
| My breast I'll burst with straining of my courage | 10 |
| And from my shoulders crack my arms asunder. |
| But I will chastise this high-minded strumpet. |
| [They fight again] |
| JOAN LA PUCELLE | Talbot, farewell; thy hour is not yet come: |
| I must go victual Orleans forthwith. |
[A short alarum; then enter the town with soldiers] |
| O'ertake me, if thou canst; I scorn thy strength. | 15 |
| Go, go, cheer up thy hungry-starved men; |
| Help Salisbury to make his testament: |
| This day is ours, as many more shall be. |
| [Exit] |
| TALBOT | My thoughts are whirled like a potter's wheel; |
| I know not where I am, nor what I do; | 20 |
| 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; | 25 |
| Now, like to whelps, we crying run away. |
[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, | 30 |
| 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. | 35 |
| 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] |
The Essential Student History Quiz (with answers and illustrations)