For I have loaden me with many spoils, [Exit. SCENE II. Orleans. Within the Town. Enter TALBOT, BEDFORD, BURGUNDY, a Captain, and Others. BED. The day begins to break, and night is fled, Whose pitchy mantle over-veil'd the earth. Here found retreat, and cease our hot purfuit. [Retreat founded. 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 paid my vow unto his foul;2 For every drop of blood was drawn from him, There hath at least five Frenchmen died to-night. And, that hereafter ages may behold What ruin happen'd in revenge of him, of this play should have taken this circumftance from the Chronicle which furnished him with this plot, than from the Comment on Spenfer's Paftorals. MALONE. This is one of the floating atoms of intelligence which might have been orally circulated, and confequently have reached our author through other channels, than those of Spenser's annotator, or our English Chronicler. STEEVENS. 2 Now have I paid my vow unto his foul; &c.] So, in the old fpurious play of King John: "Thus hath king Richard's fon perform'd his vow, "And offer'd Auftria's blood for facrifice "Unto his father's ever-living soul." STEEVENS. Within their chiefeft temple I'll erect The treacherous manner of his mournful death, I mufe, we met not with the Dauphin's grace; BED. 'Tis thought, lord Talbot, when the fight began, Rous'd on the fudden from their drowsy beds, BUR. Myfelf (as far as I could well discern, That could not live afunder day or night. After that things are fet in order here, We'll follow them with all the power we have. Enter a Meffenger. MESS. 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 speak with him? MESS. The virtuous lady, countefs of Auvergne, With modefty admiring thy renown, By me entreats, good lord, thou wouldft vouchfafe To vifit her poor caftle where the lies ;3 BUR. Is it even fo? Nay, then, I fee, our wars Will turn unto a peaceful comick sport, When ladies crave to be encounter'd with.You may not, my lord, defpife her gentle fuit. TAL. Ne'er truft me then; for, when a world of men Could not prevail with all their oratory, BED. No, truly; it is more than manners will: TAL. Well then, alone, fince there's no remedy, I mean to prove this lady's courtesy. Come hither, captain. [Whispers.]-You perceive my mind. CAPT. I do, my lord; and mean accordingly. [Exeunt. where he lies;] i. e, where fhe dwells. MALONE. SCENE III. Auvergne. Court of the Caftle. Enter the Countefs and her Porter. COUNT. Porter, remember what I gave in charge; And, when you have done fo, bring the keys to me. PORT. Madam, I will. [Exit. COUNT. The plot is laid: if all things fall out right, I fhall as famous be by this exploit, As Scythian Thomyris by Cyrus' death. Great is the rumour of this dreadful knight,` Fain would mine eyes be witnefs with mine ears, Enter Meffenger and TALBOT. MESS. Madam, According as your ladyfhip defir'd, By meffage crav'd, fo is lord Talbot come. COUNT. And he is welcome. man? MESS. Madam, it is. COUNT. What! is this the Is this the fcourge of France? Is this the Talbot, so much fear'd abroad, 4their cenfure] i. e. their opinion. So, in King Richard III: "And give your cenfures in this weighty bufinefs." STEEVENS. That with his name the mothers ftill their babes ? 5 I thought, I fhould have seen some Hercules, And large proportion of his strong-knit limbs. It cannot be, this weak and writhled' fhrimp TAL. Madam, I have been bold to trouble you: COUNT. What means he now ?-Go afk him, whither he goes. MESS. Stay, my lord Talbot; for my lady craves To know the caufe 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 prifoner. TAL. Prifoner! to whom? 5 That with his name the mothers ftill their babes ?] Dryden has transplanted this idea into his Don Sebaftian, King of Portugal: 6 "Nor fhall Sebaftian's formidable name "Be longer us'd, to lull the crying babe." STEEVENS. ·writhled—] i. e. wrinkled. The word is ufed by Spenfer. Sir Thomas Hanmer reads-wrizled, which has been followed in fubfequent editions. MALONE. The inftance from Spenfer, is the following: "Her writhled skin, as rough as maple rind." Again, in Marfton's fourth Satire : "Cold, writhled eld, his lives wet almost spent." STEEVENS. |