Dolph. Stay, stay thy hands, thou art an Amazon,
And fightest with the Sword of Debora
Puzel. Christs Mother helpes me, else I were too
weake
Dolph. Who e're helps thee, 'tis thou that must help me:
Impatiently I burne with thy desire,
My heart and hands thou hast at once subdu'd.
Excellent Puzel, if thy name be so,
Let me thy seruant, and not Soueraigne be,
'Tis the French Dolphin sueth to thee thus
Puzel. I must not yeeld to any rights of Loue,
For my Profession's sacred from aboue:
When I haue chased all thy Foes from hence,
Then will I thinke vpon a recompence
Dolph. Meane time looke gracious on thy prostrate
Thrall
Reigneir. My Lord me thinkes is very long in talke
Alans. Doubtlesse he shriues this woman to her smock,
Else ne're could he so long protract his speech
Reigneir. Shall wee disturbe him, since hee keepes no
meane?
Alan. He may meane more then we poor men do know,
These women are shrewd tempters with their tongues
Reigneir. My Lord, where are you? what deuise you on?
Shall we giue o're Orleance, or no?
Puzel. Why no, I say: distrustfull Recreants,
Fight till the last gaspe: Ile be your guard
Dolph. What shee sayes, Ile confirme: wee'le fight
it out