38

FIRST PART OF

men,

ACT II.

Rous'd on the sudden from their drowsy beds, They did amongst the troops of armed Leap o'er the walls for refuge in the field. For smoke, and dusky vapours of the night) sure I scar'd the Dauphin, and his trull;

Am

When arm in arm

they both came swiftly running,

Like to a pair of loving turtle-doves,
That could not live asunder day or night.
After that things are set in order here,
We'll follow them with all the power we have.

a Messenger.

ylords! which of this princely train

Mess. All hail, my.

Call

So

him?

report.

much applauded through the realm of France? ye the warlike Talbot, for his acts Tal. Here is the Talbot; who would speak with Mess. The virtuous lady, countess of Auvergne, With modesty admiring thy renown, By me entreats, great lord, thou wouldst vouchsafe To visit her poor castle where she lies; That she may boast she hath beheld the man Whose glory fills the world with loud Bur. Is it even so? Nay, then, I see our wars Will turn unto a peaceful comick sport, When ladies crave to be encounter'd with.You may not, my lord, despise her gentle suit. Tal. Ne'er trust me then; for, when a world of men Could not prevail with all their oratory, Yet hath a woman's kindness overrul'd :And therefore tell her, I return great thanks; And in submission will attend on her.Will not your honours bear me company? Bed. No, truly; it is more than manners will : And I have heard it said,-Unbidden guests

Are often welcomest when they are gone.

Tal. Well then, alone, since there's no remedy, I mean to prove this lady's courtesy.

Come hither, captain. [Whispers.]-You perceive my mind.

Ι

Capt. I do, my lord; and mean accordingly.

[Exeunt.

SCENE III. Auvergne. Court of the Castle.

Enter the Countess and her Porter.

Count. Porter, remember what I gave in charge; And, when you have done so, bring the keys to me. Port. Madam, I will.

[Exit.

Count. The plot is laid: if all things fall out right, I shall as famous be by this exploit,

As Scythian Thomyris by Cyrus' death.
Great is the rumour of this dreadful knight,
And his achievements of no less account:

Fain would mine eyes be witness with mine ears,
To give their censure1 of these rare reports.

Enter Messenger and TALBOT.

Mess. Madam,

According as your ladyship desir'd,

By message crav'd, so is Lord Talbot come.

Count. And he is welcome. What! is this the man? Mess. Madam, it is.

Count.

Is this the scourge of France?

Is this the Talbot, so much fear'd abroad,

That with his name the mothers still their babes??

I see report is fabulous and false :

1 Censure, i. e. judgment, opinion. So in King Richard III."And give your censures in this weighty business.”

2 Dryden has transplanted this idea into his Don Sebastian :"Nor shall Sebastian's formidable name

Be longer used, to lull the crying babe."

I thought I should have seen some Hercules,
A second Hector, for his grim aspéct,
And large proportion of his strong-knit limbs.
Alas! this is a child, a silly dwarf :

shrimp

It cannot be, this weak and writhled3
Should strike such terror to his enemies.
Tal. Madam, I have been bold to trouble
But, since your ladyship is not at leisure,
I'll sort some other time to visit you.

you:

Count. What means he now ?—Go ask him, whither

he goes.

Mess. Stay, my

Lord Talbot; for my lady craves To know the cause of your abrupt departure. Tal. Marry, for that she's in a wrong belief, I go to certify her, Talbot's here.

Re-enter Porter, with Keys.

Count. If thou be he, then art thou prisoner.
Tal. Prisoner! to whom?

e;

Count. To me, blood-thirsty lord; And for that cause I train'd thee to my house. Long time thy shadow hath been thrall to me, For in my gallery thy picture hangs; But now the substance shall endure the like And I will chain these legs and arms of thine, That hast by tyranny, these many years, Wasted our country, slain our citizens, And sent our sons and husbands captivate1. Tal. Ha, ha, ha!

Writhled for shrivel'd, wrinkled. Thus Harington, Ariosto, Canto vi. St. 62:

Her face was wan, a lean and writheld skin;

Her stature skant three horse-loaves did exceed, &c.

And Marston, in his fourth Satire:

"Cold writhled eld, his lives web almost spent."

Thus in Solyman and Persida:

"If not destroy'd and bound and captivate,
If captivate, then forc'd from holy faith."

Count. Laughest thou, wretch? thy mirth shall turn

to moan.

Tal. I laugh to see your ladyship so fond5,

To think that you have aught but Talbot's shadow, Whereon to practise your severity.

Count. Why, art not thou the man?

Tal.

Count. Then have I substance too.

I am indeed.

Tal. No, no, I am but shadow of myself:
You are deceiv'd, my substance is not here;
For what you see, is but the smallest part
And least proportion of humanity:

I tell you, madam, were the whole frame here,
It is of such a spacious lofty pitch,

Your roof were not sufficient to contain it.

Count. This is a riddling merchant for the nonce"; He will be here, and yet he is not here: How can these contrarieties agree?

Tal. That will I show you presently.

He winds a Horn. Drums heard; then a Peal of Ordnance. The Gates being forced, enter Soldiers.

How say you, madam? are you now persuaded,
That Talbot is but shadow of himself?

These are his substance, sinews, arms, and strength,

Fond, i. e. foolish, silly, weak.

6 This is a riddling merchant for the nonce. The term merchant, which was, and even now is, frequently applied to the lowest kind of dealers, seems anciently to have been used on these familiar occasions in contradistinction to gentleman; signifying that the person showed by his behaviour he was a low fellow. Thus in Romeo and Juliet, the nurse says, "I pray you, sir, what saucy merchant was this, that was so full of his ropery?" And in Churchyard's Chance, 1580:

"What saucie merchant speaketh now, said Venus in her rage." The term chap, an abridgment of chapman, is still in use in vulgar speech, in speaking of any one with freedom or disrespect. For the nonce is for the occasion.

abuse:

With which he yoketh your rebellious necks;
Razeth
your cities, and subverts your towns,
And in a moment makes them desolate.
Count. Victorious Talbot! pardon my
I find, thou art no less than fame hath bruited',
And more than may be gather'd by thy shape.
Let my presumption not provoke thy wrath;
For I am sorry, that with reverence

I did not entertain thee as thou art.

Tal. Be not dismay'd, fair lady; nor misconstrue mind of Talbot, as you did mistake The The outward composition of his body.

What you

have done hath not offended me:

No other satisfaction do I crave,

But only (with your patience) that we may

Taste of

your wine, and see what cates you have;

For soldiers' stomachs always serve them well. Count. With all my heart: and think me honoured To feast so great a warrior in

house. my

[Exeunt.

SCENE IV. London. The Temple Garden. Enter the EARLS OF SOMERSET, SUFFOLK, and WARWICK; RICHARD PLANTAGENET, VERNON, and

a Lawyer1

Plan. Great lords, and gentlemen, what means this

silence?

Dare no man answer in a case of truth?

Suff. Within the Temple hall we were too loud:

The garden here is more convenient.

• Bruited is noised, reported, loudly announced. So in Macbeth :"One of great note

Seems bruited."

The fame or bruite that one hath among the common people is lost or buried when he dieth."-Cooper.

This lawyer was probably Roger Nevyle, who was afterwards

hanged. See W. Wyrcester, p. 478.