100 Mess. 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.
Tal. Hear, hear how dying Salisbury doth groan!
105It irks his heart he cannot be revenged.
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.