Alarum. Enter an English Soldier, crying, a Talbot! a Talbot'! They fly, leaving their Clothes behind.

SOLD. I'll be so bold to take what they have left. The cry of Talbot serves me for a sword; For I have loaden me with many spoils, Using no other weapon but his name.

[Exit.

Enter an ENGLISH Soldier crying, a TALBOT! A TALBOT!] And afterwards:

"The cry of Talbot serves me for a sword."

Here a popular tradition, exclusive of any chronicle-evidence, was in Shakspeare's mind. Edward Kerke, the old commentator on Spenser's Pastorals, first published in 1579, observes in his notes on June, that Lord Talbot's "noblenesse bred such a terrour in the hearts of the French, that oftimes greate armies were defaited and put to flight, at the only hearing of his name: insomuch that the French women, to affray their children, would tell them that the Talbot cometh." See also Sc. III. T. WARTON. The same is said in Drayton's Miseries of Queen Margaret, of Lord Warwick:

"And still so fearful was great Warwick's name,
"That being once cry'd on, put them oft to flight,
"On the king's army till at length they light."

STEEVENS.

In a note on a former passage, p. 39, n. 5, I have quoted a passage from Hall's Chronicle, which probably furnished the author of this play with this circumstance. It is not mentioned by Holinshed, (Shakspeare's historian,) and is one of the numerous proofs that have convinced me that this play was not the production of our author. See the Essay at the end of The Third Part of King Henry VI. It is surely more probable that the writer of this play should have taken this circumstance from the Chronicle which furnished him with this plot, than from the Comment on Spenser's Pastorals. MALONE.

This is one of the floating atoms of intelligence which might have been orally circulated, and consequently have reached our author through other channels, than those of Spenser's annotator, or our English Chronicler. STEEVENS.

SCENE II.

Orleans. Within the Town.

Enter TALBOT, Bedford, BurgUNDY, a Captain, and Others.

BED. The day begins to break, and night is fled, Whose pitchy mantle over-veil'd the earth. Here sound retreat, and cease our hot pursuit. Retreat sounded.

TAL. Bring forth the body of old Salisbury;
And here advance it in the market-place,
The middle centre of this cursed town.-
Now have I paid my vow unto his soul2 2;
For every drop of blood was drawn from him,
There hath at least five Frenchmen died to-night.
And, that hereafter ages may behold
What ruin happen'd in revenge of him,
Within their chiefest temple I'll erect
A tomb, wherein his corpse shall be interr'd:
Upon the which, that every one may read,
Shall be engrav'd the sack of Orleans;
The treacherous manner of his mournful death,
And what a terror he had been to France.
But, lords, in all our bloody massacre,

I muse, we met not with the Dauphin's grace ;
His new-come champion, virtuous Joan of Arc;
Nor any of his false confederates.

BED. 'Tis thought, lord Talbot, when the fight began,

Rous'd on the sudden from their drowsy beds

2 Now have I paid my vow unto his soul; &c.] So, in the old spurious play of King John:

"Thus hath king Richard's son perform'd his vow,
"And offer'd Austria's blood for sacrifice

"Unto his father's ever-living soul." STEEVENS.

They did, amongst the troops of armed men,
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 scar'd 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, good lord, thou would'st 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 report.
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 over-rul'd:-
And therefore tell her, I return great thanks :
And in submission will attend on her.-
Will not your honours bear me company?

3 where she LIES;] i. e. where she dwells. MALONE.

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.

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 censure of these rare reports.

4

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.

man?

What! is this the

4 their CENSURE-] i. e. their opinion. So, in King

Richard III.:

And give your censures in this weighty business."

STEEVENS.

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 5? I see report is fabulous and false :

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:

It cannot be, this weak and writhled 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.

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, 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.

s That with his name the mothers still their babes?] Dryden has transplanted this idea into his Don Sebastian, King of Portugal :

"Nor shall Sebastian's formidable name

"Be longer us'd, to lull the crying babe." STEEVENS.

6 — writhled—] i. e. wrinkled. The word is used by Spenser. Sir Thomas Hanmer reads-wrizled, which has been followed in subsequent editions. MALONE.

The instance from Spenser, is the following:

"Her writhled skin, as rough as maple rind."

Again, in Marston's fourth Satire, b. i.:

"Cold, writhled eld, his lives-wet almost spent."

STEEVENS.