Act I, Scene 6

The same.

[Enter, on the walls, JOAN LA PUCELLE, CHARLES,] [p]REIGNIER, ALENCON, and Soldiers]

• Joan la Pucelle. Advance our waving colours on the walls;
  Rescued is Orleans from the English 630
  Thus Joan la Pucelle hath perform'd her word.

• Charles, King of France. Divinest creature, Astraea's daughter,
  How shall I honour thee for this success?
  Thy promises are like Adonis' gardens
  That one day bloom'd and fruitful were the next. 635
  France, triumph in thy glorious prophetess!
  Recover'd is the town of Orleans:
  More blessed hap did ne'er befall our state.

• Reignier. Why ring not out the bells aloud throughout the town?
  Dauphin, command the citizens make bonfires 640
  And feast and banquet in the open streets,
  To celebrate the joy that God hath given us.

• Duke of Alencon. All France will be replete with mirth and joy,
  When they shall hear how we have play'd the men.

• Charles, King of France. 'Tis Joan, not we, by whom the day is won; 645
  For which I will divide my crown with her,
  And all the priests and friars in my realm
  Shall in procession sing her endless praise.
  A statelier pyramis to her I'll rear
  Than Rhodope's or Memphis' ever was: 650
  In memory of her when she is dead,
  Her ashes, in an urn more precious
  Than the rich-jewel'd of Darius,
  Transported shall be at high festivals
  Before the kings and queens of France. 655
  No longer on Saint Denis will we cry,
  But Joan la Pucelle shall be France's saint.
  Come in, and let us banquet royally,
  After this golden day of victory.

[Flourish. Exeunt]