Did look no better to that weighty charge64.

  ALENÇON    Had all your quarters been as safely kept65

  As that whereof I had the government66,

  We had not been thus shamefully surprised67.

  BASTARD    Mine was secure.

  REIGNIER    And so was mine, my lord.

  CHARLES    And for myself, most part of all this night,

  Within her quarter and mine own precinct71

  I was employed in passing72 to and fro,

  About relieving of the sentinels73.

  Then how or which way should they first break in?

  PUCELLE    Question, my lords, no further of the case,

  How or which way: ’tis sure they found some place

  But77 weakly guarded, where the breach was made:

  And now there rests78 no other shift but this:

  To gather our soldiers, scattered and dispersed,

  And lay new platforms to endamage them80.

  Alarum. Enter an [English] Soldier, crying ‘A Talbot! A Talbot!’ [The French] fly, leaving their clothes behind

  SOLDIER    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 spoils83,

  Using no other weapon but his name.

  Exit

  [Act 2 Scene 2]

  running scene 5 continues

  Enter Talbot, Bedford, Burgundy, [a Captain, and others]

  BEDFORD    The day begins to break, and night is fled,

  Whose pitchy2 mantle over-veiled the earth.

  Here sound retreat, and cease our hot pursuit.

  Retreat [sounded]

  TALBOT    Bring forth the body of old Salisbury,

  And here advance5 it in the market-place,

  The middle centre of this cursèd town.

  Now have I paid my vow7 unto his soul:

  For every drop of blood was drawn from him,

  There hath at least five Frenchmen died tonight.

  And that hereafter ages may behold

  What ruin11 happened in revenge of him,

  Within their chiefest temple I’ll erect

  A tomb, wherein his corpse shall be interred:

  Upon the which, that everyone may read,

  Shall be engraved the sack of Orléans,

  The treacherous manner of his mournful16 death,

  And what a terror he had been to France.

  But, lords, in all our bloody massacre,

  I muse19 we met not with the dauphin’s grace,

  His new-come champion, virtuous20 Joan of Arc,

  Nor any of his false confederates.

  BEDFORD    ’Tis thought, Lord Talbot, when the fight began,

  Roused on the sudden from their drowsy beds,

  They did amongst the troops of armèd men

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

  BURGUNDY    Myself, as far as I could well discern

  For smoke and dusky vapours of the night,

  Am sure I scared the dauphin and his trull28,

  When arm in arm they both came swiftly running,

  Like to a pair of loving turtle-doves30

  That could not live asunder day or night.

  After that things are set in order here,

  We’ll follow them with all the power33 we have.

  Enter a Messenger

  MESSENGER    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?

  TALBOT    Here is the Talbot: who would speak with him?

  MESSENGER    The virtuous lady, Countess of Auvergne,

  With modesty admiring thy renown,

  By me entreats, great lord, thou wouldst vouchsafe40

  To visit her poor castle where she lies41,

  That she may boast she hath beheld the man

  Whose glory fills the world with loud report43.

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

  Will turn unto a peaceful comic sport45,

  When ladies crave to be encountered with46.

  You may not, my lord, despise her gentle47 suit.

  TALBOT    Ne’er trust me then: for when a world48 of men

  Could not prevail with all their oratory49,

  Yet hath a woman’s kindness overruled50:

  And therefore tell her I return great thanks,

  And in submission will attend on52 her.

  Will not your honours bear me company?

  BEDFORD    No, truly, ’tis more than manners will:

  And I have heard it said, unbidden55 guests

  Are often welcomest when they are gone.

  TALBOT    Well then, alone, since there’s no remedy57,

  I mean to prove58 this lady’s courtesy.

  Come hither, captain.

  You perceive my mind60?

  Whispers

  CAPTAIN    I do, my lord, and mean61 accordingly.

  Exeunt

  [Act 2 Scene 3]

  running scene 6

  Enter [the] Countess [of Auvergne and her Porter]

  COUNTESS    Porter, remember what I gave in charge1,

  And when you have done so, bring the keys to me.

  PORTER    Madam, I will.

  Exit

  COUNTESS    The plot is laid: if all things fall out right,

  I shall as famous be by this exploit

  As Scythian Tomyris by Cyrus’ death6.

  Great is the rumour of this dreadful knight,

  And his achievements of no less account:

  Fain9 would mine eyes be witness with mine ears,

  To give their censure of these rare10 reports.

  Enter Messenger and Talbot

  MESSENGER    Madam, according as your ladyship desired,

  By message craved, so is Lord Talbot come.

  COUNTESS    And he is welcome. What, is this the man?

  MESSENGER    Madam, it is.

  COUNTESS    Is this the scourge of France?

  Is this the Talbot, so much feared abroad16

  That with his name the mothers still17 their babes?

  I see report is fabulous18 and false:

  I thought I should have seen some Hercules19,

  A second Hector, for20 his grim aspect,

  And large proportion of his strong-knit21 limbs.

  Alas, this is a child, a silly22 dwarf:

  It cannot be this weak and writhled23 shrimp

  Should strike such terror to his enemies.

  TALBOT    Madam, I have been bold to trouble you:

  But since your ladyship is not at leisure,

  I’ll sort27 some other time to visit you.

  COUNTESS    What means he now? Go ask him whither he goes.

  MESSENGER    Stay, my lord Talbot, for my lady craves

  To know the cause of your abrupt departure.

  TALBOT    Marry, for that she’s in a wrong belief31,

  I go to certify her Talbot’s here32.

  Enter Porter with keys

  COUNTESS    If thou be he, then art thou prisoner.

  TALBOT    Prisoner? To whom?

  COUNTESS    To me, bloodthirsty lord;

  And for that cause I trained36 thee to my house.

  Long time thy shadow hath been thrall37 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 tyranny41 these many years

  Wasted42 our country, slain our citizens,

  And sent our sons and husbands captivate43.

  TALBOT    Ha, ha, ha!

  COUNTESS    Laughest thou, wretch? Thy mirth shall turn to moan.

  TALBOT    I laugh to see your ladyship so fond46

  To think that you have aught47 but Talbot’s shadow

  Whereon to practise your severity.

  COUNTESS    Why, art not thou the man?

  TALBOT    I am indeed.

  COUNTESS    Then have I substance too.

  TALBOT    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 humanity55:

  I tell you, madam, were the whole frame56 here,

  It is of such a spacious lofty pitch57,

  Your roof were not sufficient to contain’t.

  COUNTESS    This is a riddling merchant59 for the nonce:

  He will be here, and yet he is not here:

  How can these contrarieties61 agree?

  TALBOT    That will I show you presently62.

  Winds his horn, drums strike up, a peal of ordnance. 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,

  With which he yoketh66 your rebellious necks,

  Razeth your cities and subverts67 your towns

  And in a moment makes them desolate.

  COUNTESS    Victorious Talbot, pardon my abuse69:

  I find thou art no less than fame hath bruited70,

  And more than may be gathered by thy shape.

  Let my presumption not provoke thy wrath,

  For I am sorry that with reverence

  I did not entertain74 thee as thou art.

  TALBOT    Be not dismayed, fair lady, nor misconster75

  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 patience80, that we may

  Taste of your wine and see what cates81 you have,

  For soldiers’ stomachs82 always serve them well.

  COUNTESS    With all my heart, and think me honourèd

  To feast so great a warrior in my house.

  Exeunt

  [Act 2 Scene 4]

  running scene 7

  Enter Richard Plantagenet, Warwick, Somerset, Suffolk, A rose brier [Vernon, and a Lawyer] revealed

  RICHARD PLANTAGENET    Great lords and gentlemen, what means this silence?

  Dare no man answer in a case of truth2?

  SUFFOLK    Within the Temple hall we were3 too loud:

  The garden here is more convenient.

  RICHARD PLANTAGENET    Then say at once if I maintained the truth:

  Or else was wrangling6 Somerset in th’error?

  SUFFOLK    Faith, I have been a truant7 in the law,

  And never yet could frame8 my will to it,

  And therefore frame the law unto my will.

  SOMERSET    Judge you, my lord of Warwick, then between us.

  WARWICK    Between two hawks, which flies the higher pitch11,

  Between two dogs, which hath the deeper mouth12,

  Between two blades, which bears the better temper13,

  Between two horses, which doth bear him14 best,

  Between two girls, which hath the merriest eye,

  I have perhaps some shallow16 spirit of judgement:

  But in these nice sharp quillets17 of the law,

  Good faith, I am no wiser than a daw18.

  RICHARD PLANTAGENET    Tut, tut, here is a mannerly forbearance19:

  The truth appears so naked20 on my side

  That any purblind21 eye may find it out.

  SOMERSET    And on my side it is so well apparelled22,

  So clear, so shining, and so evident

  That it will glimmer through a blind24 man’s eye.

  RICHARD PLANTAGENET    Since you are tongue-tied and so loath to speak,

  In dumb significants26 proclaim your thoughts:

  Let him that is a true-born gentleman

  And stands28 upon the honour of his birth,

  If he suppose that I have pleaded29 truth,

  He plucks a white rose

  From off this brier pluck a white rose30 with me.

  SOMERSET    Let him that is no coward nor no flatterer,

  But dare maintain the party32 of the truth,

  He plucks a red rose

  Pluck a red rose33 from off this thorn with me.

  WARWICK    I love no colours, and without all colour34

  Of base insinuating flattery

  I pluck this white rose with Plantagenet.

  SUFFOLK    I pluck this red rose with young Somerset

  And say withal38 I think he held the right.

  VERNON    Stay, lords and gentlemen, and pluck no more

  Till you conclude that he upon whose side

  The fewest roses are cropped from the tree

  Shall yield42 the other in the right opinion.

  SOMERSET    Good Master Vernon, it is well objected43:

  If I have fewest, I subscribe44 in silence.

  RICHARD PLANTAGENET    And I.

  VERNON    Then for the truth and plainness of the case.

  I pluck this pale and maiden47 blossom here,

  Giving my verdict on the white rose side.

  SOMERSET    Prick not your finger as you pluck it off,

  Lest bleeding you do paint the white rose red

  And fall on my side so against your will.

  VERNON    If I, my lord, for my opinion bleed,

  Opinion53 shall be surgeon to my hurt

  And keep me on the side where still54 I am.

  SOMERSET    Well, well, come on, who else?

  LAWYER    Unless my study and my books be false,

  To Somerset

  The argument you held was wrong in law:

  In sign whereof I pluck a white rose too.

  RICHARD PLANTAGENET    Now, Somerset, where is your argument?

  SOMERSET    Here in my scabbard, meditating that60

  Shall dye your white rose in a bloody red.

  RICHARD PLANTAGENET    Meantime your cheeks do counterfeit62 our roses:

  For pale they look with fear, as witnessing

  The truth on our side.

  SOMERSET    No, Plantagenet,

  ’Tis not for fear, but anger, that thy cheeks

  Blush for pure shame to counterfeit our roses,

  And yet thy tongue will not confess thy error.

  RICHARD PLANTAGENET    Hath not thy rose a canker69, Somerset?

  SOMERSET    Hath not thy rose a thorn, Plantagenet?

  RICHARD PLANTAGENET    Ay, sharp and piercing, to maintain his71 truth,

  Whiles thy consuming canker eats his falsehood.

  SOMERSET    Well, I’ll find friends to wear my bleeding roses,

  That shall maintain what I have said is true,

  Where false75 Plantagenet dare not be seen.

  RICHARD PLANTAGENET    Now, by this maiden blossom in my hand,

  I scorn thee and thy fashion, peevish77 boy.

  SUFFOLK    Turn not thy scorns this way, Plantagenet.

  RICHARD PLANTAGENET    Proud Pole79, I will, and scorn both him and thee.

  SUFFOLK    I’ll turn my part thereof into thy throat80.

  SOMERSET    Away, away, good William de la Pole:

  We grace the yeoman82 by conversing with him.

  WARWICK    Now, by God’s will, thou wrong’st him, Somerset:

  His grandfather84 was Lionel Duke of Clarence,

  Third son to the third Edward King of England:

  Spring crestless86 yeomen from so deep a root?

  RICHARD PLANTAGENET    He bears87 him on the place’s privilege,

  Or durst not for his craven88 heart say thus.

  SOMERSET    By him that made me, I’ll maintain89 my words

  On any plot of ground in Christendom.

  Was not thy father, Richard Earl of Cambridge,

  For treason executed in our late king’s days?

  And by his treason, stand’st not thou attainted93,

  Corrupted, and exempt from ancient gentry?

  His trespass yet lives guilty in thy blood,

  And till thou be restored96, thou art a yeoman.

  RICHARD PLANTAGENET    My father was attachèd, not attainted97,

  Condemned to die for treason, but no traitor;

  And that I’ll prove on better men than Somerset,

  Were growing time once ripened to my will100.

  For your partaker101 Pole and you yourself,