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| TALBOT.: |
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| The Duke of Bedford had a prisoner |
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| Call'd the brave Lord Ponton de Santrailles; |
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| For him was I exchanged and ransomed. |
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| But with a baser man of arms by far |
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| Once in contempt they would have barter'd me: |
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| Which I disdaining scorn'd, and craved death |
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| Rather than I would be so vile-esteem'd. |
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| In fine, redeem'd I was as I desired. |
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| But, O! the treacherous Fastolfe wounds my heart, |
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| Whom with my bare fists I would execute, |
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| If I now had him brought into my power. |
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| TALBOT.: |
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| With scoffs and scorns and contumelious taunts. |
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| In open market-place produced they me, |
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| To be a public spectacle to all: |
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| Here, said they, is the terror of the French, |
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| The scarecrow that affrights our children so. |
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| Then broke I from the officers that led me, |
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| And with my nails digg'd stones out of the ground |
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| To hurl at the beholders of my shame; |
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| My grisly countenance made others fly; |
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| None durst come near for fear of sudden death. |
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| In iron walls they deem'd me not secure; |
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| So great fear of my name 'mongst them was spread |
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| That they supposed I could rend bars of steel, |
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| And spurn in pieces posts of adamant: |
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| Wherefore a guard of chosen shot I had, |
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| That walk'd about me every minute while; |
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| And if I did but stir out of my bed, |
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| Ready they were to shoot me to the heart. |
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| SALISBURY.: |
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| I grieve to hear what torments you endured, |
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| But we will be revenged sufficiently. |
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| Now it is supper-time in Orleans: |
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| Here, through this grate, I count each one, |
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| And view the Frenchmen how they fortify: |
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| Let us look in; the sight will much delight thee. |
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| Sir Thomas Gargrave and Sir William Glansdale, |
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| Let me have your express opinions |
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| Where is best place to make our battery next. |
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| TALBOT.: |
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| What chance is this that suddenly hath cross'd us? |
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| Speak, Salisbury: at least, if thou canst speak: |
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| How farest thou, mirror of all martial men? |
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| One of thy eyes and thy cheek's side struck off! |
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| Accursed tower! accursed fatal hand |
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| That hath contrived this woful tragedy! |
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| In thirteen battles Salisbury o'ercame; |
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| Henry the Fifth he first train'd to the wars; |
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| Whilst any trump did sound, or drum struck up, |
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| His sword did ne'er leave striking in the field. |
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| Yet liv'st thou, Salisbury? though thy speech doth fail, |
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| One eye thou hast, to look to heaven for grace: |
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| The sun with one eye vieweth all the world. |
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| Heaven, be thou gracious to none alive, |
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| If Salisbury wants mercy at thy hands! |
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| Bear hence his body; I will help to bury it, |
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| Sir Thomas Gargrave, hast thou any life? |
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| Speak unto Talbot; nay, look up to him. |
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| Salisbury, cheer thy spirit with this comfort, |
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| Thou shalt not die whiles— |
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| He beckons with his hand and smiles on me, |
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| As who should say 'When I am dead and gone, |
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| Remember to avenge me on the French.' |
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| Plantagenet, I will; and like thee, Nero, |
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| Play on the lute, beholding the towns burn; |
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| Wretched shall France be only in thy name. |
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| TALBOT.: |
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| Hear, hear how dying Salisbury doth groan! |
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| It irks his heart he cannot be revenged. |
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| Frenchmen, I 'll be a Salisbury to you: |
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| Pucelle or puzzel, dolphin or dogfish, |
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| Your hearts I 'll stamp out with my horse's heels, |
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| And make a quagmire of your mingled brains. |
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| Convey me Salisbury into his tent, |
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| And then we 'll try what these dastard Frenchmen dare. |
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