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    Act 1. Scene IV - Page 2

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    shoot me to the heart.

    Enter the Boy with a linstock

    SALISBURY
    I grieve to hear what torments you endured,
    But we will be revenged sufficiently
    Now it is supper-time in Orleans:
    Here, through this grate, I count each one
    and view the Frenchmen how they fortify:
    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.

    GARGRAVE
    I think, at the north gate; for there stand lords.

    GLANSDALE
    And I, here, at the bulwark of the bridge.

    TALBOT
    For aught I see, this city must be famish'd,
    Or with light skirmishes enfeebled.

    Here they shoot. SALISBURY and GARGRAVE fall

    SALISBURY
    O Lord, have mercy on us, wretched sinners!

    GARGRAVE
    O Lord, have mercy on me, woful man!

    TALBOT
    What chance is this that suddenly hath cross'd us?
    Speak, Salisbury; at least, if thou canst speak:
    How farest thou, mirror of all martial men?
    One of thy eyes and thy cheek's side struck off!
    Accursed tower! accursed fatal hand
    That hath contrived this woful 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.
    Yet livest 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!
    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--
    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 my 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 gathered 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 puzzel, dolphin or dogfish,
    Your hearts I'll stamp out with my horse's heels,
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