| |
France. Before Orleans. | |
| |
Enter, on the walls, the Master-Gunner and his Boy. | |
| M. Gun. Sirrah, thou know’st how Orleans is besieg’d, | |
| And how the English have the suburbs won. | |
| Son. Father, I know; and oft have shot at them, | 5 |
| Howe’er unfortunate I miss’d my aim. | |
| M. Gun. But now thou shalt not. Be thou rul’d by me: | |
| Chief master-gunner am I of this town; | |
| Something I must do to procure me grace. | |
| The prince’s espials have informed me | 10 |
| How the English, in the suburbs close entrench’d, | |
| Wont through a secret gate of iron bars | |
| In yonder tower to overpeer the city, | |
| And thence discover how with most advantage | |
| They may vex us with shot or with assault. | 15 |
| To intercept this inconvenience, | |
| A piece of ordnance ’gainst it I have plac’d; | |
| And fully even these three days have I watch’d | |
| If I could see them. Now, boy, do thou watch, | |
| For I can stay no longer. | 20 |
| If thou spy’st any, run and bring me word; | |
| And thou shalt find me at the Governor’s. [Exit. | |
| Son. Father, I warrant you; take you no care; | |
| I’ll never trouble you if I may spy them. [Exit. | |
| |
Enter, on the turrets, the LORDS SALISBURY and TALBOT; SIR WILLIAM GLANSDALE, SIR THOMAS GARGRAVE, and Others. | 25 |
| Sal. Talbot, my life, my joy! again return’d! | |
| How wert thou handled being prisoner? | |
| Or by what means got’st thou to be releas’d, | |
| Discourse, I prithee, on this turret’s top. | |
| Tal. The Duke of Bedford had a prisoner | 30 |
| Called the brave Lord Ponton de Santrailles; | |
| For him I was exchang’d and ransomed. | |
| But with a baser man at arms by far | |
| Once in contempt they would have barter’d me: | |
| Which I disdaining scorn’d, and craved death | 35 |
| Rather than I would be so vile-esteem’d. | |
| In fine, redeem’d I was as I desir’d. | |
| But, O! the treacherous Fastolfe wounds my heart: | |
| Whom with my bare fists I would execute | |
| If I now had him brought into my power. | 40 |
| Sal. Yet tell’st thou not how thou wert entertain’d. | |
| Tal. With scoffs and scorns and contumelious taunts. | |
| In open market-place produc’d they me, | |
| To be a public spectacle to all: | |
| Here, said they, is the terror of the French, | 45 |
| The scarecrow that affrights our children so. | |
| Then broke I from the officers that led me, | |
| And with my nails digg’d stones out of the ground | |
| To hurl at the beholders of my shame. | |
| My grisly countenance made others fly. | 50 |
| None durst come near for fear of sudden death. | |
| In iron walls they deem’d me not secure; | |
| So great fear of my name ’mongst them was spread | |
| That they suppos’d I could rend bars of steel | |
| And spurn in pieces posts of adamant: | 55 |
| Wherefore a guard of chosen shot I had, | |
| That walk’d about me every minute-while; | |
| And if I did but stir out of my bed | |
| Ready they were to shoot me to the heart. | |
| |
Enter the Boy with a linstock. | 60 |
| Sal. I grieve to hear what torments you endur’d; | |
| But we will be reveng’d sufficiently. | |
| Now it is supper-time in Orleans: | |
| Here, through this grate, I count each one, | |
| And view the Frenchmen how they fortify: | 65 |
| Let us look in; the sight will much delight thee. | |
| Sir Thomas Gargrave, and Sir William Glansdale, | |
| Let me have your express opinions | |
| Where is best place to make our battery next. | |
| Gar. I think at the North gate; for there stand lords. | 70 |
| Glan. And I, here, at the bulwark of the bridge. | |
| Tal. For aught I see, this city must be famish’d, | |
| Or with light skirmishes enfeebled. [Here they shoot. SALISBURY and SIR THOMAS GARGRAVE fall. | |
| Sal. O Lord! have mercy on us, wretched sinners. | |
| Gar. O Lord! have mercy on me, woeful man. | 75 |
| Tal. What chance is this that suddenly hath cross’d us? | |
| Speak, Salisbury; at least, if thou canst speak: | |
| How far’st thou, mirror of all martial men? | |
| One of thy eyes and thy cheek’s side struck off! | |
| Accursed tower! accursed fatal hand | 80 |
| That hath contriv’d this woeful tragedy! | |
| In thirteen battles Salisbury o’ercame; | |
| Henry the Fifth he first train’d to the wars; | |
| Whilst any trump did sound or drum struck up, | |
| His sword did ne’er leave striking in the field. | 85 |
| Yet liv’st thou, Salisbury? though thy speech doth fail, | |
| One eye thou hast to look to heaven for grace: | |
| The sun with one eye vieweth all the world. | |
| Heaven, be thou gracious to none alive, | |
| If Salisbury wants mercy at thy hands! | 90 |
| Bear hence his body; I will help to bury it. | |
| Sir Thomas Gargrave, hast thou any life? | |
| Speak unto Talbot; nay, look up to him. | |
| Salisbury, cheer thy spirit with this comfort; | |
| Thou shalt not die, whiles— | 95 |
| He beckons with his hand and smiles on me, | |
| As who should say, ‘When I am dead and gone, | |
| Remember to avenge me on the French.’ | |
| Plantagenet, I will; and like thee, Nero, | |
| Play on the lute, beholding the towns burn: | 100 |
| Wretched shall France be only in my name. [It thunders and lightens. An alarum. | |
| What stir is this? What tumult’ sin the heavens? | |
| Whence cometh this alarum and the noise? | |
| |
Enter a Messenger. | |
| Mess. My lord, my lord! the French have gather’d head: | 105 |
| The Dauphin, with one Joan la Pucelle join’d, | |
| A holy prophetess new risen up | |
| Is come with a great power to raise the siege. [Here SALISBURY lifteth himself up and groans. | |
| Tal. Hear, hear how dying Salisbury doth groan! | |
| It irks his heart he cannot be reveng’d. | 110 |
| Frenchmen, I’ll be a Salisbury to you: | |
| Pucelle or puzzel, dolphin or dogfish, | |
| Your hearts I’ll stamp out with my horse’s heels | |
| And make a quagmire of your mingled brains. | |
| Convey me Salisbury into his tent, | 115 |
| And then we’ll try what these dastard Frenchmen dare. [Exeunt, bearing out the bodies. | |
| |
