_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._ SCENE VI. _The same_. _Enter, on the walls_, LA PUCELLE, CHARLES, REIGNIER, ALENÇON, _and Soldiers_. _Puc._ Advance our waving colours on the walls;   [aaf001] Rescued is Orleans from the English:   [aaf002] Thus Joan la Pucelle hath perform’d her word. _Char._ Divinest creature, Astræa’s daughter,   [aaf004] How shall I honour thee for this success?   ·aaf005· Thy promises are like Adonis’ gardens   [aaf006] That one day bloom’d and fruitful were the next. France, triumph in thy glorious prophetess! Recover’d is the town of Orleans: More blessed hap did ne’er befall our state.   ·aaf010· _Reig._ Why ring not out the bells aloud throughout the town?   [aaf011] Dauphin, command the citizens make bonfires And feast and banquet in the open streets, To celebrate the joy that God hath given us.