Exeunt.
Alarum. Enter a Souldier, crying, a Talbot, a Talbot: they flye,
leauing
their Clothes behind.
Sould. Ile be so bold to take what they haue left:
The Cry of Talbot serues me for a Sword,
For I haue loaden me with many Spoyles,
Vsing no other Weapon but his Name.
Enter.
Enter Talbot, Bedford, Burgundie.
Bedf. The Day begins to breake, and Night is fled,
Whose pitchy Mantle ouer-vayl'd the Earth.
Here sound Retreat, and cease our hot pursuit.
Retreat.
Talb. Bring forth the Body of old Salisbury,
And here aduance it in the Market-Place,
The middle Centure of this cursed Towne.
Now haue I pay'd my Vow vnto his Soule:
For euery drop of blood was drawne from him,
There hath at least fiue Frenchmen dyed to night.
And that hereafter Ages may behold
What ruine happened in reuenge of him,
Within their chiefest Temple Ile erect
A Tombe, wherein his Corps shall be interr'd:
Vpon the which, that euery one may reade,
Shall be engrau'd the sacke of Orleance,
The trecherous manner of his mournefull death,
And what a terror he had beene to France.
But Lords, in all our bloudy Massacre,
I muse we met not with the Dolphins Grace,
His new-come Champion, vertuous Ioane of Acre,
Nor any of his false Confederates
Bedf. 'Tis thought Lord Talbot, when the fight began,
Rows'd on the sudden from their drowsie Beds,
They did amongst the troupes of armed men,
Leape o're the Walls for refuge in the field
Burg.
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