The First Part of Henry the Sixth. Уильям Шекспир

and banqueted;

          Embrace we then this opportunity,

          As fitting best to quittance their deceit,

          Contriv'd by art and baleful sorcery.

        BEDFORD. Coward of France, how much he wrongs his fame,

          Despairing of his own arm's fortitude,

          To join with witches and the help of hell!

        BURGUNDY. Traitors have never other company.

          But what's that Pucelle whom they term so pure?

        TALBOT. A maid, they say.

        BEDFORD. A maid! and be so martial!

        BURGUNDY. Pray God she prove not masculine ere long,

          If underneath the standard of the French

          She carry armour as she hath begun.

        TALBOT. Well, let them practise and converse with spirits:

          God is our fortress, in whose conquering name

          Let us resolve to scale their flinty bulwarks.

        BEDFORD. Ascend, brave Talbot; we will follow thee.

        TALBOT. Not all together; better far, I guess,

          That we do make our entrance several ways;

          That if it chance the one of us do fail

          The other yet may rise against their force.

        BEDFORD. Agreed; I'll to yond corner.

        BURGUNDY. And I to this.

        TALBOT. And here will Talbot mount or make his grave.

          Now, Salisbury, for thee, and for the right

          Of English Henry, shall this night appear

          How much in duty I am bound to both.

                   [The English scale the walls and cry 'Saint George!

                                                           a Talbot!']

          SENTINEL. Arm! arm! The enemy doth make assault.

      The French leap o'er the walls in their shirts.

      Enter, several ways, BASTARD, ALENCON, REIGNIER, half ready and half unready

        ALENCON. How now, my lords? What, all unready so?

        BASTARD. Unready! Ay, and glad we 'scap'd so well.

        REIGNIER. 'Twas time, I trow, to wake and leave our beds,

          Hearing alarums at our chamber doors.

        ALENCON. Of all exploits since first I follow'd arms

      Ne'er heard I of a warlike enterprise

          More venturous or desperate than this.

        BASTARD. I think this Talbot be a fiend of hell.

        REIGNIER. If not of hell, the heavens, sure, favour him

        ALENCON. Here cometh Charles; I marvel how he sped.

      Enter CHARLES and LA PUCELLE

        BASTARD. Tut! holy Joan was his defensive guard.

        CHARLES. 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?

        PUCELLE. Wherefore is Charles impatient with his friend?

          At all times will you have my power alike?