Tal. Here is the Talbot, who would speak with him ? Mel. The virtuous lady, Countess of Auvergne, With modefty, admiring thy renown, By me intreats, great lord, thou would'st vouchsafe Bur. Is it ev'n fo? nay, then, I fee, our wars Tal. Ne'er trust me then; for when a world of men Will not your honours bear me company? Bed. No, truly, that is more than manners will: Tal. Well then, alone, fince there's no remedy, Come hither, captain; you perceive my mind. [Whispers. Capt. I do, my lord, and mean accordingly. [Exeunt. SCENE, the Countess of Auvergne's Caftle. Count. Enter the Countess, and her Porter. ORTER, remember what I gave in charge; POR to me. Port. Madam, I will. Count. The plot is laid: if all things fall out righ, I shall as famous be by this exploit, As Scythian Tomyris by Cyrus' death. [Exit. Great is the rumour of this dreadful Knight, Fain would mine eyes be witness with mine ears, Enter Enter Menger and Talbot. Me. Madam, according as your lady ship 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 fcourge of France? Is this the Talbot fo much fear'd abroad, That with his name the mothers ftill their babes? (12) I fee, report is fabulous and falfe. I thought, I fhould have feen fome Hercules; And large proportion of his ftrong-knit limbs. It cannot be, this weak and writhled Shrimp Tal. Madam, I have been bold to trouble you: I'll fort fome other time to visit you. [goes. Count. What means he now? Go ask him, whither he Meff. Stay, my lord Talbot; for my lady craves To know the cause of your abrupt departure. I go to certifie her, Talbot's here. Enter Porter with keys. Count. If thou be he, then art thou prisoner. Count. To me, blood-thirfty lord: And for that cause I train'd thee to my house. (12) That with his Name the Mothers ftill their Babes ?] This Defcription of the Terror, which Talbot ftruck into the French, feems to me to be ridicul'd by Beaumont and Fletcher in their Knight of the Burning Peftle, in which feveral other paffages of our Author are fneer'd at : We'll fear our Children with him If they be never fo unruly, do but cry, For For in my gallery thy picture hangs: But now the fubftance fhall endure the like, Tal. Ha, ha, ha. [moan. Count. Laugheft thou, wretch? thy mirth fhall turn to To think, that you have aught but Talbot's fhadow Count. Why? art not thou the man? Count. Then have I fubftance too. Tal. No, no, I am but fhadow of my felf: I tell you, Madam, were the whole frame here, 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 born; drums ftrike up; a peal of Ordnance. Enter How fay you, Madam? are you now perfuaded, These are his fubftance, finews, arms and ftrength, Count. Victorious Talbot, pardon my abufe; I did not entertain thee as thou art. Tal. Tal. Be not difmay'd, fair lady; nor misconstrue The mind of Talbot, as you did mistake The outward compofition of his body. What you have done, hath not offended me: But only with your patience that we may Count. With all my heart, and think me honoured SCENE changes to London, in the Temple garden. Enter Richard Plantagenet, Warwick, Somerset, Suffolk, and others. Plan. G Reat lords and gentlemen, what means this filence? Dare no man answer in a case of truth? Suf. Within the Temple-hall we were too loud, The garden here is more convenient. Plan. Then fay at once, if I maintain'd the truth : Or else was wrangling Somerset in th' error? Suf. Faith, I have been a truant in the law; I never yet could frame my will to it, And therefore frame the law unto my will. Som. Judge you, my lord of Warwick, then between us. Plan. Tut, tut, here is a mannerly forbearance. Som. And on my fide it is fo well apparell'd, So clear, fo fhining, and fo evident, That it will glimmer through a blind man's eye. Plan. Since you are tongue-ty'd, and fo loth to speak, In dumb fignificants proclaim your thoughts: Let him, that is a true-born gentleman, Sum. Let him that is no coward, and no flatterer, But dare maintain the party of the truth, War. I love no colours; and without all colour I pluck this white rofe with Plantagenet. Suf. I pluck this red rofe with young Somerset, And say withal, I think, he held the right. Ver. Stay, lords and gentlemen, and pluck no more, 'Till you conclude, that he, upon whose fide The feweft rofes are crop'd from the tree, Shall yield the other in the right opinion. Som. Good mafter Vernon, it is well objected; Ver. Then for the truth and plainnefs of the cafe, Som. Prick not your finger as you pluck it off, Ver. If I, my lord, for my opinion bleed, [To Somerset. In fign whereof I pluck a white rose too. Som. |