My lord, my lord, the French have gathered head

Messenger
My lord, my lord, the French have gathered head.
The Dauphin, with one Joan la 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.

Pucelle or puzel, dauphin or dogfish,
Your hearts I’ll stamp out with my horse’s heels
And make a quagmire of your mingled brains

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, dauphin 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 try what these dastard Frenchmen dare.
Alarum. They exit.