Leap o'er the walls for refuge in the field.

Bur. Myself- as far as I could well discern
For smoke and dusky vapours of the night -
Am sure I scared the Dauphin and his trull,
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.

Enter a Messenger.

Mess. All hail, my lords! Which of this princely train Call ye the warlike Talbot, for his acts

So much applauded through the realm of France?

Tal. Here is the Talbot: who would speak with him?
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,2

That she may boast she hath beheld the man
Whose glory fills the world with loud report.

Bur. Is it even so? Nay, then I see our wars

Will turn unto a peaceful comic sport,

When ladies crave to be encounter'd with.

You mayn't, 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 over-ruled: -
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:

2" Where she lies" is where she dwells.

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

SCENE III.

[Exeunt.

Auvergne. Court of the Castle.

Enter the Countess and her Porter.

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

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

As Scythian Tomyris 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 censure 1 of these rare reports.

Enter Messenger and TALBOT.

Mess. Madam,

According as your ladyship desired,

By message craved, so is Lord Talbot come.

Count. And he is welcome.

Mess. Madam, it is.

Count.

[Exit.

What! is this the man?

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 :

I thought I should have seen some Hercules,

A second Hector, for his grim aspéct

1 Censure is judgment or opinion. A very frequent usage.

And large proportion of his strong-knit limbs.
Alas, this is a child, a silly dwarf!

It cannot be this weak and writhlèd 2 shrimp

Should strike such terror to his enemies.

Tal. Madam, I have been bold to trouble you ; But, since your ladyship is not at leisure,

I'll sort some other time to visit you.

[Going.

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?

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 captivate.
Tal. Ha, ha, ha!

Count. Laughest thou, wretch? thy mirth shall turn to

moan.

Tal. I laugh to see your ladyship so fond 3

2 Writhled for wrinkled. Thus Spenser: "Her writhled skin as rough as maple rind." And Marston, in his fourth Satire: "Cold writhled eld, his lives web almost spent."

3 Fond is foolish or silly: commonly so in the old writers.

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 deceived, 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't.

Count. This.is a riddling merchant for the nonce; 4

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 strike up; then a peal The gates being forced, enter

of ordnance.

Soldiers.

How say you, madam? are you now persuaded

That Talbot is but shadow of himself?

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

I find thou art no less than fame hath bruited,"

5

4 The term merchant, which was often applied to the lowest class of tradesmen, seems to have been anciently used on such familiar occasions in contradistinction to gentleman; signifying that the person showed himself, by his behaviour, to be a low fellow. So, in Romeo and Juliet, the Nurse says, "I pray you, sir, what saucy merchant was this, that was so full of his ropery?". -"For the nonce" is for the occasion or the time.

5 Abuse is deception, trick, or cheat. Often so. 6 Bruited is noised abroad or loudly reported.

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 The mind of Talbot, as you did mistake

The outward composition of his body.

What you have done hath not offended me:
Nor 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 honouréd
To feast so great a warrior in my house.

SCENE IV.

[Exeunt.

London. The Temple-Garden.

Enter the Earls of SOMERSET, SUFFOLK, and WARWICK ; RICHARD PLANTAGENET,1 VERNON, and a Lawyer.

Plan. Great lords and gentlemen, what means this silence? Dare no man answer in a case of truth?

Suf. Within the Temple-hall we were too loud;

1 This Richard Plantagenet was son of the Earl of Cambridge who was overtaken in a plot against the life of Henry V., and executed at Southampton. That Earl was a younger brother of Edward, Duke of York, who fell at the battle of Agincourt, and had no child to succeed him. So that on his father's side Richard was grandson to Edmund of Langley, the fourth son of Edward III. His mother was Anne, sister of Edmund Mortimer, Earl of March, and great-grandaughter to Lionel, Duke of Clarence, who was the second son of Edward III. In 1425, the fourth year of Henry VI., Richard was restored to the rights and titles that had been forfeited by his father, and was made Duke of York. After the death of Bedford, in 1435, he succeeded him as regent of France; was recalled two years later, and appointed again in 1441. Some three years after, being supplanted in that office by his rival, the Duke of Somerset, he took the government of Ireland instead, from whence he began to stretch forth his hand to the crown.