Salisbury, cheer thy spirit with this comfort,
Thou shalt not die whiles—
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.
Wretched shall France be only in thy name.
[Here an alarum, and it thunders and lightens.]
What stir is this? What tumult’s in the heavens?
Whence cometh this alarum and the noise?
Enter a Messenger.
MESSENGER.
My lord, my lord, the French have gather’d head.
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.]
TALBOT.
Hear, hear how dying Salisbury doth groan;
It irks his heart he cannot be revenged.
Frenchmen, I’ll be a Salisbury to you.
Pucelle or puzel, dolphin or dogfish,
Your hearts I’ll stamp out with my horse’s heels
And make a quagmire of your mingled brains.
Convey we Salisbury into his tent,
And then we’ll try what these dastard Frenchmen dare.
[Alarum. Exeunt.]
SCENE V. Before Orleans.
Here an alarum again, and Talbot pursueth the Dauphin and driveth him; then enter Joan la Pucelle, driving Englishmen before her, and exit after them. Then re-enter Talbot.