| ACT I SCENE V | The same. | |
| | Here an alarum again: and TALBOT pursueth theDAUPHIN, and driveth him: then enter JOAN LAPUCELLE, driving Englishmen before her, and exitafter 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; | 5 |
| | Devil or devil's dam, I'll conjure thee: | |
| | 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? | 10 |
| | My breast I'll burst with straining of my courage | |
| | 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. | 15 |
| | A short alarum; then enter the town with soldiers | |
| | O'ertake me, if thou canst; I scorn thy strength. | |
| | 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; | 20 |
| | I know not where I am, nor what I do; | |
| | 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. | 25 |
| | They call'd us for our fierceness English dogs; | |
| | 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: | 30 |
| | Sheep run not half so treacherous from the wolf, | |
| | 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, | 35 |
| | For none would strike a stroke in his revenge. | |
| | 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. | 40 |
| | Exit TALBOT. Alarum; retreat; flourish | |
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