CHARLES

Mars his true moving, even as in the Heavens, So in the Earth, to this day is not known. Late did he shine upon the English side: Now we are Victor's, upon us he smiles. What Towns of any moment, but we have? At pleasure here we lie, near Orleans: Otherwhiles, the famished English, Like pale Ghosts, Faintly besiege us one hour in a month. Found, found Alarm, we will rush on them. Now for the honour of the forlorn French: Him I forgive my death, that kills me, When he sees me go back one foot, or fly. Who ever saw the Like? what men have I? Dogs, Cowards, Dastards: I would never have fled, But that they left me midst my Enemies. Let's leave this Town, For they are hayre-brayn'd Slaves, And hunger will enforce them to be more eager: Of old I know them; rather with their Teeth The Walls they'le tear down, then forsake the Siege. Saint Dennis bless this happy Stratagem, And once again we'll sleep secure in Roan. Now shine it Like a Commet of Revenge, A Prophet to the fallen of all our Foes. Your Grace may starve (perhaps) before that time. We have been guided by thee hitherto, And of thy Cunning had no diffidence, One sudden Foil shall never breed distrust. I marry Sweating, if we could do that, France were no place for Henries Warriors, Nor should that Nation boast it so with us, But be extirped from our Provinces. A Parley with the Duke of Burgonie. Speak Pucell, and enchant him with thy words. Welcome brave Duke, thy friendship makes us fresh. Now let us on, my Lords, And join our Powers, And seek how we may prejudice the Foe. 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 lose might be ten times so much? Duke of Alanson, this was your default, That being Captain of the Watch to Night, Did look no better to that weighty Charge. And for my self, most partly of all this Night Within her Quarter, and mine own Precinct, I was employed in passing to and from, About relieving of the Centinels. Then how, or which way, should they first break in? Had York and Somerset brought rescue in, We should have found a bloody day of this. O no forbear: For that which we have fled During the life, let us not wrong it dead. On what submissive message art thou sent? For prisoners askest thou? Hell our prison is. But tell me whom thou seekest? Go take their bodies hence. So we be rid of them, do with him what y u wilt. And now to Paris in this conquering vain, All will be ours, now bloody Talbots slain. These news (my Lords) may cheer our droo ping spirits: It's said, the stout Parisians do revolt, And turn again unto the warlike French. What tidings send our Scouts? I prithee speak. Somewhat too sudden Sirs, the warning is, But we will presently provide for them. Then on my Lords, and France be fortunate. Since Lords of England, it is thus agreed, That peaceful truce shall be proclaimed in France, We come to be informed by your selves, What the conditions of that league must be. It's known already that I am possessed With more then half the Gallian Territories, And therein reverenced for their lawful King. Shall I for lucre of the rest unvanquished, Detract so much from that prerogative, As to be called but Viceroy of the whole? No Lord Ambassador, I'll rather keep That which I have, than coveting for more Be cast from possibility of all. It Shall: Only reserved you claim no interest In any of our Towns of Garrison. Bastard of Orleans, thrice welcome to us. Go call her in: but first, to try her skill, Reignier stand thou as Dolphin in my place; Question her proudly, let thy Looks be stern, By this means shall we found what skill she hath. Thou hast astonished me with thy high terms: Only this proof I'll of thy Valour make, In single Combat thou shalt buckle with me; And if thou vanquishest, thy words are true, Otherwise I renounce all confidence. Then come a Gods name, I fear no woman. Stay, stay thy hands, thou art and Amazon, And fightest with the Sword of Debora. Who ever helps thee, it's thou that must help me: Impatiently I burn with thy desire, My heart and hands thou hast at once subdued. Excellent Puzel, if thy name be so, Let me thy servant, and not Sovereign be, It's the French Dolphin sues to thee thus. Mean time look gracious on thy prostrate Thrall. What she says, I'll confirm: we'll fight it out. Was Mahomet inspired with a Dove? Thou with and Eagle art inspired then. Helen, the Mother of Great Constantine, Nor yet S. Philips daughters were Like thee. Bright Star of Venus, fallen down on the Earth, How may I reverently worship thee enough? Presently we'll try: come, let's away about it, No Prophet will I trust, if she prove false. Divinest Creature, Astraea's Daughter, How shall I honour thee for this success? Thy promises are Like Adonis Garden, That one day bloomed, and fruitful were the next. France, triumph in thy glorious Prophetess, Recovered is the Town of Orleans, More blessed hap did never befall our State. It's Joan, not we, by whom the day is won: For which, I will divide my Crown with her, And all the Priests and Friars in my Realm, Shall in procession sing her endless praise. A statelyer Pyramid to her I'll rear, Then Rhodophe's or Memphis ever was. In memory of her, when she is dead, Her Ashes, in and Urn more precious Then the rich-iewel'd Coffer of Darius, Transported, shall be at high Festivals Before the Kings and Queens of France. No longer on Saint Dennis will we cry, But Joan de Puzel shall be France's Saint. Come in, and let us Banquet Royally, After this Golden Day of Victory.