Master-Gunner of Orleans

Sirrah, thou know'st how Orleans is besieged,

And how the English have the suburbs won.

Son

Father, I know; and oft have shot at them.

Howe'er unfortunate I missed my aim.

Master-Gunner of Orleans

But now thou shalt not. Be thou ruled 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

How the English, in the suburbs close intrenched,

Wont through a secret grate 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.

To intercept this inconvenience,

A piece of ordnance 'gainst it I have placed;

And even these three days have I watched,

If I could see them.

Now do thou watch, for I can stay no longer.

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 GLANDSDALE, SIR THOMAS GARGRAVE, and others.

Salisbury

Talbot, my life, my joy, again returned!

How wert thou handled being prisoner?

Or by what means gots thou to be released?

Discourse, I prithee, on this turret's top.

Talbot

The Earl of Bedford had a prisoner

Called the brave Lord Ponton de Santrailles;

For him was I exchanged and ransomed.

But with a baser man of arms by far

Once in contempt they would have bartered me:

Which I disdaining scorned and craved death

Rather than I would be so pilled esteemed.

In fine, redeemed I was as I desired.

But O! the treacherous Falstaff wounds my heart,

Whom with my bare fists I would execute,

If I now had him brought into my power.

Salisbury

Yet tell'st thou not how thou wert entertained.

Talbot

With scoffs and scorns and contumelious taunts.

In open marketplace produced they me,

To be a public spectacle to all:

Here, said they, is the terror of the French,

The scarecrow that affrights our children so.

Then broke I from the officers that led me,

And with my nails digged stones out of the ground,

To hurl at the beholders of my shame:

My grisly countenance made others fly;

None durst come near for fear of sudden death.

In iron walls they deemed me not secure;

So great fear of my name 'mongst them were spread

That they supposed I could rend bars of steel

And spurn in pieces posts of adamant:

Wherefore a guard of chosen shot I had

That walked 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.

Salisbury

I grieve to hear what torments you endured,

But we will be revenged sufficiently.

Now it is suppertime 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 stands lords.

Glansdale

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

Talbot

For aught I see, this city must be famished,

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, woeful man!

Talbot

What chance is this that suddenly hath crossed 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 woeful tragedy!

In thirteen battles Salisbury o'ercame;

Henry the Fifth he first trained 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 de Pucelle joined,

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,

And make a quagmire of your mingled brains.

Convey me Salisbury into his tent,

And then we'll try what these dastard Frenchmen dare. Alarum. Exeunt.