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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 report.
Bur. Is it even so? Nay, then, I see, our wars
Will turn into a peaceful comic 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


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?


Bed. No, truly; that 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


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




The Countess of AUVERGNE's Castle. Enter the Countess and her Porter.

Count. Porter, remember what I gave in charge; And, when you have done so, brings 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 of these rare reports.

Enter Messenger, and TALBOT,

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Mess. Madam, according as your ladyship desir'd, By message crav'd, so is lord Talbot come.

Count. And he is welcome.


Mess. Madam, it is.

What is this the

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Count. [As musing.] 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 aspect,

And large proportion of his strong-knit limbs.



Alas! this is a child, a silly dwarf:

It cannot be, this weak and wrizled 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 13 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-thristy 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,


To think that you have aught but Talbot's shadow,


Whereon to practise your severity.
Count. Why, art not thou the man?
Tal. I am, indeed.

Count. Then have I substance too.

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, 200 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 shew you presently.

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 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,
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.


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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 honoured To feast so great a warrior in my house.



London. The Temple Garden. Enter the Earls of SoMERSET, SUFFOLK, and WARWICK, RICHARD PLANTAGENET, VERNON, and another Lawyer.

Plant. 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; The garden here is more convenient.


Plant. Then say at once, If I maintain'd the truth; Or, else, was wrangling Somerset in the error? Suf Faith, I have been a truant in the law; And never yet could frame my will to it; And, therefore, frame the law unto my will. Som. Judge you, my lord of Warwick, then be

tween us.


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