Puslapio vaizdai

Bed. Agreed; I'll to yond corner.

Bur. And I to this.

Tal. And here will Talbot mount, or make his Grave,
Now Salisbury for thee and for the right
Of English Henry, fhall this Night appear
How much in duty, I am bound to both.

Cent. Arm, Arm, the Enemy doth make affault.

[Cry, St. George! A Talbot! The French leap o'er the Walls in their Shirts. Enter feveral ways, Baftard, Alenfon, Reignier, half ready, and half


Alen. How now, my Lords? what all unready fo?
Baft. Unready? I and glad we fcap'd fo well.
Reig. 'Twas time, I trow, to wake and leave our Beds,
Hearing Alarums at our Chamber Doors.

Alen. Of all Exploits fince firft I follow'd Arms,
Ne'er heard I of a Warlike Enterprize

More venturous, or defperate than this.
Baft. I think this Talbot be a Fiend of Hell.
Reig. If not of Hell, the Heavens fure favour him.
Alen. Here cometh Charles, I marvel how he fped.
Enter Charles and Joan.

Baft. Tut, holy Joan was his defenfive Guard.
Cha. Is this thy Cunning, thou deceitful Dame?
Didst thou at first, to flatter us withal,

Make us partakers of a little gain, --

That now our lofs might be ten times so much?

Pucel. Wherefore is Charles impatient with his Friend? -
At all times will you have my
Power alike?
Sleeping or Waking, muft I ftill prevail,

Or will you blame and lay the fault on me?
Improvident Soldiers, had your Watch been good,
This fudden mifchief never could have faln.
Char. Duke of Alenfon, this was your Default,
That being Captain of the Watch to Night,
Did look no better to that weighty Charge.
Alen. Had all our Quarters been as fafely kept,
As that, whereof I had the Government,
We had not been thus fhamefully furpriz
Baft. Mine was fecure.

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Reig. And fo was mine, my Lord.

Char. And for my felf, moft part of all this Night
Within her Quarter, and mine own Precinct,
I was employ'd in paffing to and fro,
About relieving of the Centinels.

Then how, or which way, fhould they firft break in?
Pucel. Queftion, my Lord, no further of the cafe,
How, or which way; 'tis fure they found fome place
But weakly Guarded, where the Breach was made:
And now there refts no other fhift, but this
To gather our Soldiers, scatter'd and disperst,
And lay new Plat-forms to endamage them.
Alarum. Enter a Soldier, crying, a Talbot! a Talbot!
they fly, leaving their Cloaths behind.

Sol. I'll be fo bold to take what they have left:
The Cry of Talbot ferves me for a Sword,
For I have loaden me with many Spoils,
Ufing no other. Weapon but his Name.

Enter Talbot, Bedford, and Burgundy.


Bed. The Day begins to break, and Night is fled, Whofe pitchy Mantle over-vail'd the Earth.


Here found Retreat, and ceafe our hot Purfuit. [Retreat.
Tal. Bring forth the Body of old Salisbury,

And here advance it in the Market place,
The middle Centre of this curfed Town.
Now have I pay'd my Vow unto his Soul,
For every drop of Blood was drawn from him,
There hath at least five Frenchmen dy'd to Night.
And that hereafter Ages may behold
What Ruin happen'd in revenge of him,
Within the chiefeft Temple I'll erect

A Tomb, wherein his Corps fhall 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 terrour he had been to France,
But, Lords, in all our bloody Maffacre,
I mufe we met not with the Dauphin's Grace,
His new come Champion, virtuous Joan of Arc,
Nor any of his falfe Confederates.


Bed. 'Tis thought, Lord Talbot, when the fight began, Rou'd on the fudden from their drowfie Beds, They did among the Troops of armed Men, Leap d'er the Walls for refuge in the Field Bur. My felf, as far as I could well difcern, For Smoak and dufty Vapours of the Night. Am fure 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 afunder Day or Night.

After that things are fer in order herey

We'll follow them with all the Powers we have.

Enter a Meffenger...

Meff. 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 fpeak with him? Meff. The virtuous Lady, Countess of Auvergne, With Modesty admiring thy Renown,

By me intreats, great Lord, thou would't vouchfafe
To vifit her poor Caftle where the lyes;

That she may boaft the hath beheld the Man,
Whofe Glory fills the World with loud report.
Bur. Is it even fo? Nay, then I fee our Wars
Will turn into a peaceful Comick Sport,
When Ladies crave to be encountred with.
You may not, my Lord, defpife her gentle fuit.

Tal. Ne'er truft me then; for when a World of Men

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And therefore tell her, I return great thanks,
And in fubmiffion will attend on her.
Will not your Honours bear me company?
Bed. No, truly 'tis more than manners will:
And I have heard it faid, Unbidden Guests
Are often welcomeft when they are gone.
Tal. Well then, alone, fince there's no remedy,
I mean to prove this Lady's courtèfie.
Come hither, Captain, you perceive my Mind. [Whifters.
Capt. I do, my Lord, and mean accordingly. [Exeunt,


Enter Countess of Auvergne.

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

Count. The Plot is laid, if all things fall out right, I fhall as famous be by this Exploit,

As Scythian Tomyris by Cyrus Death.

Great is the rumour of this dreadful Knight,
And his Atchievements of no lefs account:
Fain would mine Eyes be witnefs with mine Ears,
To give their Censure of these rare Reports.
Enter Meffenger and Talbot.

Meff. Madam, according as your Lady fhip defir'd,
By Meffage crav'd, fo is Lord Talbot come."


Count. And he is welcome; what? is this the Man?
Meff. Madam, it is.

Count. Is this the Scourge of France?
Is this the Talbot, fo much fear'd abroad?

That with his Name the Mothers ftill their Babes?

I fee Report is fabulous and falfe.

I thought I fhould have feen fome Hercules,
A fecond Hector, for his grim Afpect,

And large proportion of his ftrong knit Limbs.
Alas! this is a Child, a filly Dwarf;

It cannot be, this weak and writhled Shrimp
Should ftrike fuch terror to his Enemies.

Tal. Madam, I have been bold to trouble you:
Fut fince your Ladyfhip is not at leasure,
I'll fort fome other time to vifit you.

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

Meff. Stay, my Lord Talbot, for my Lady craves,
To know the cause of your abrupt departure.
Tal. Marry, for that fhe's in a wrong belief,
I go to certifie her, Talbot's here.

Enter Porter with Keys.

Count. If thou be he; then art thou Prisoner.
Tal. Prifoner? to whom?

Count. To me, Blood-thirfty Lord:

And for that cause I train'd thee to my Houfe.


Long time thy Shadow hath been thrall to me,
For in my Gallery thy Picture hangs:

But now the Subftanee shall endure the like,
And I will chain thefe Legs and Arms of thine,
That haft by Tyranny these many Years
Wafted our Country, flain our Citizens,
And fent our Sons and Husbands Captivate:
Tal. Ha, ha, ha.

Count. Laugheft thou Wretch?

Thy Mirth fhall turn to Moan.

Tal. I laugh to fee your Ladyfhip fo fond,
To think, that you have ought but Talbot's Shadow
Whereon to practife your Severity.

Count. Why? art not thou the Man?
Tal. I am indeed.

Count. Then have I Subftance too,
Tal. No, no, I am but Shadow of
my felf:
You are deceiv'd, my Substance is not here;
For what you fee is but the smallest
And leaft Proportion of Humanity:


I tell you, Madam, were the whole Frame here,
It is of fuch a fpacious lofty pitch,

Your Roof were not fufficient 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 fhew you prefently.

Winds his Horn, Drums Arike up, a Peal of Ordnance
Enter Soldiers.

How fay you, Madam? are you now perfuaded,
That Talbot is but Shadow of himself?

These are his Subftance, Sinews, Arms, and Strength,
With which he yoaketh your Rebellious Necks,
Razeth your Cities, and fubverts your Towns,
And in a moment makes them defolate.

Count. Victorious Talbot, pardon my abufe;
I find thou art no less than Fame hath bruited,
And more than may be gathered by thy Shape.
Let my Prefumption not provoke thy Wrath,
For I am forry, that with Reverence


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