The Arden Shakespeare Complete Works
Page 204
MESSENGER
All hail, my lords. Which of this princely train
Call ye the warlike Talbot, for his acts
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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 vouchsafe
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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.
BURGUNDY Is it even so? Nay, then I see our wars
Will turn unto a peaceful comic sport,
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When ladies crave to be encountered with.
You may not, my lord, despise her gentle suit.
TALBOT Ne’er trust me then; for when a world of men
Could not prevail with all their oratory,
Yet hath a woman’s kindness overruled.
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And therefore tell her I return great thanks
And in submission will attend on her.
Will not your honours bear me company?
BEDFORD No, truly, ’tis more than manners will:
And I have heard it said unbidden guests
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Are often welcomest when they are gone.
TALBOT Why then, alone (since there’s no remedy)
I mean to prove this lady’s courtesy.
Come hither, captain, you perceive my mind.
[The Captain comes forward; Talbot whispers to him.]
CAPTAIN I do, my lord, and mean accordingly. Exeunt.
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2.3 Enter COUNTESS of Auvergne, and her Porter.
COUNTESS Porter, remember what I gave in charge;
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
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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.
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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 abroad
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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.
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Alas, this is a child, a silly dwarf:
It cannot be this weak and writhled 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,
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I’ll sort 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 belief,
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I go to certify her Talbot’s here.
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 trained thee to my house.
Long time thy shadow hath been thrall to me;
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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
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And sent our sons and husbands captivate.
TALBOT Ha, ha, ha.
COUNTESS
Laughest thou, wretch? Thy mirth shall turn to moan.
TALBOT I laugh to see your ladyship so fond
To think that you have aught but Talbot’s shadow
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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;
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For what you see is but the smallest part
And least proportion of humanity.
I tell you, madam, were the whole frame here,
It is of such a spacious lofty pitch
Your roof were not sufficient to contain’t.
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COUNTESS This is a riddling merchant, for the nonce.
He will be here, and yet he is not here:
How can these contrarieties agree?
TALBOT That will I show you presently.
[Winds his horn. Drums strike up. A peal of ordnance.]
Enter soldiers.
How say you, madam? Are you now persuaded
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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.
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COUNTESS Victorious Talbot, pardon my abuse.
I find thou art no less than fame hath bruited,
And more than may be gathered by thy shape.
Let my presumption not provoke thy wrath,
For I am sorry that with reverence
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I did not entertain thee as thou art.
TALBOT Be not dismayed, fair lady, nor misconster
The mind of Talbot as you did mistake
The outward composition of his body.
What you have done hath not offended me;
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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.
COUNTESS
With all my heart – and think me honoured
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To feast so great a warrior in my house. Exeunt.
2.4 Enter RICHARD Plantagenet, WARWICK, SOMERSET, SUFFOLK, VERNON and a Lawyer.
RICHARD
Great lords, and gentlemen, what means this silence?
Dare no man answer in a case of truth?
SUFFOLK Within the Temple Hall we were too loud;
The garden here is more convenient.
RICHARD Then say at once if I maintained the truth;
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Or else was wrangling Somerset in th’error?
SUFFOLK 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.
SOMERSET
Judge you, my lord of Warwick, then, between us.
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WARWICK
Between two hawks, which flies the higher pitch,
Between two dogs, which hath the deeper mouth,
Between two blades, which bears the better temper,
Between two horses, which doth bear him best,
Between two girls, which hath the merri
est eye,
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I have perhaps some shallow spirit of judgement:
But in these nice sharp quillets of the law,
Good faith, I am no wiser than a daw.
RICHARD Tut, tut, here is a mannerly forbearance:
The truth appears so naked on my side
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That any purblind eye may find it out.
SOMERSET And on my side it is so well apparelled,
So clear, so shining and so evident,
That it will glimmer through a blind man’s eye.
RICHARD
Since you are tongue-tied and so loath to speak,
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In dumb significants proclaim your thoughts.
Let him that is a true-born gentleman
And stands upon the honour of his birth,
If he suppose that I have pleaded truth,
From off this briar pluck a white rose with me.
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SOMERSET Let him that is no coward nor no flatterer,
But dare maintain the party of the truth,
Pluck a red rose from off this thorn with me.
WARWICK I love no colours: and, without all colour
Of base insinuating flattery,
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I pluck this white rose with Plantagenet.
SUFFOLK I pluck this red rose with young Somerset,
And say withal I think he held the right.
VERNON Stay, lords and gentlemen, and pluck no more
Till you conclude that he upon whose side
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The fewest roses are cropped from the tree
Shall yield the other in the right opinion.
SOMERSET Good Master Vernon, it is well objected:
If I have fewest I subscribe in silence.
RICHARD And I.
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VERNON Then, for the truth and plainness of the case,
I pluck this pale and maiden 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
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And fall on my side so, against your will.
VERNON If I, my lord, for my opinion bleed,
Opinion shall be surgeon to my hurt
And keep me on the side where still I am.
SOMERSET Well, well, come on, who else?
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LAWYER Unless my study and my books be false,
The argument you held was wrong in you;
In sign whereof I pluck a white rose too.
RICHARD Now, Somerset, where is your argument?
SOMERSET Here in my scabbard, meditating that
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Shall dye your white rose in a bloody red.
RICHARD
Meantime your cheeks do counterfeit 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
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Blush for pure shame, to counterfeit our roses –
And yet thy tongue will not confess thy error.
RICHARD Hath not thy rose a canker, Somerset?
SOMERSET Hath not thy rose a thorn, Plantagenet?
RICHARD Ay, sharp and piercing to maintain his truth,
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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 false Plantagenet dare not be seen.
RICHARD Now, by this maiden blossom in my hand,
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I scorn thee and thy fashion, peevish boy.
SUFFOLK Turn not thy scorns this way, Plantagenet.
RICHARD
Proud Poole, I will, and scorn both him and thee.
SUFFOLK I’ll turn my part thereof into thy throat.
SOMERSET Away, away, good William de la Pole –
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We grace the yeoman by conversing with him.
WARWICK
Now, by God’s will, thou wrong’st him, Somerset:
His grandfather was Lionel, Duke of Clarence,
Third son to the third Edward, King of England;
Spring crestless yeomen from so deep a root?
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RICHARD He bears him on the place’s privilege,
Or durst not, for his craven heart, say thus.
SOMERSET
By him that made me, I’ll maintain my words
On any plot of ground in Christendom.
Was not thy father Richard, Earl of Cambridge,
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For treason executed in our late king’s days?
And by his treason stand’st not thou attainted,