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Home » Quotes » Henry VI Pt 1 » These are the city gates, the gates of Roan

These are the city gates, the gates of Roan

Pucelle
These are the city gates, the gates of Roan,
Through which our policy must make a breach.
Take heed. Be wary how you place your words;
Talk like the vulgar sort of market men
That come to gather money for their corn.
If we have entrance, as I hope we shall,
And that we find the slothful watch but weak,
I’ll by a sign give notice to our friends,
That Charles the Dauphin may encounter them.

Foul fiend of France and hag of all despite,
Encompassed with thy lustful paramours,
Becomes it thee to taunt his valiant age
And twit with cowardice a man half dead?

Soldier
Our sacks shall be a mean to sack the city,
And we be lords and rulers over Roan;
Therefore we’ll knock.
 Knock.
Watch, within
Qui là?
Pucelle
Paysans la pauvre gens de France:
Poor market folks that come to sell their corn.
Watch
Enter, go in. The market bell is rung.
Pucelle, aside
Now, Roan, I’ll shake thy bulwarks to the ground.

They exit. Enter Charles, Bastard, Alanson, Reignier, and Soldiers.

Charles
Saint Dennis bless this happy stratagem
And once again we’ll sleep secure in Roan.
Bastard
Here entered Pucelle and her practisants.
Now she is there, how will she specify
“Here is the best and safest passage in”?
Reignier
By thrusting out a torch from yonder tower,
Which, once discerned, shows that her meaning is:
No way to that, for weakness, which she entered.

Enter Pucelle on the top, thrusting out a torch burning.

Pucelle
Behold, this is the happy wedding torch
That joineth Roan unto her countrymen,
But burning fatal to the Talbonites.
Bastard
See, noble Charles, the beacon of our friend;
The burning torch, in yonder turret stands.
Charles
Now shine it like a comet of revenge,
A prophet to the fall of all our foes!
Reignier
Defer no time; delays have dangerous ends.
Enter and cry “The Dauphin!” presently,
And then do execution on the watch.

Alarum. They exit.
An Alarum. Enter Talbot in an excursion.

Pucelle
France, thou shalt rue this treason with thy tears,
If Talbot but survive thy treachery.
Pucelle, that witch, that damnèd sorceress,
Hath wrought this hellish mischief unawares,
That hardly we escaped the pride of France.
 He exits.

An alarum. Excursions. Bedford brought in sick in
a chair, carried by two Attendants. Enter Talbot
and Burgundy without; within, Pucelle with a sack
of grain, Charles, Bastard, Alanson, and Reignier
on the walls.

Pucelle, to those below
Good morrow, gallants. Want you corn for bread?
She scatters grain on those below.
I think the Duke of Burgundy will fast
Before he’ll buy again at such a rate.
’Twas full of darnel. Do you like the taste?
Burgundy
Scoff on, vile fiend and shameless courtesan!
I trust ere long to choke thee with thine own,
And make thee curse the harvest of that corn.
Charles
Your Grace may starve, perhaps, before that time.
Bedford
O, let no words, but deeds, revenge this treason.
Pucelle
What will you do, good graybeard? Break a lance
And run a-tilt at Death within a chair?
Talbot
Foul fiend of France and hag of all despite,
Encompassed with thy lustful paramours,
Becomes it thee to taunt his valiant age
And twit with cowardice a man half dead?
Damsel, I’ll have a bout with you again,
Or else let Talbot perish with this shame.
Pucelle
Are you so hot, sir? Yet, Pucelle, hold thy peace,
If Talbot do but thunder, rain will follow.

Source:
Act 3
Scene 2
Line 1

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