BEDFORD
The day begins to break, and night is fled,
Whose pitchy mantle over-veil’d the earth.
Here sound retreat and cease our hot pursuit.
TALBOT
Bring forth the body of old Salisbury,
And here advance it in the market-place,
The middle centre of this cursed town.
TALBOT
Now have I paid my vow unto his soul;
For every drop of blood was drawn from him
There at least five Frenchmen died tonight.
And that hereafter ages may behold
What ruin happen’d in revenge of him,
Within their chiefest temple I’ll erect
A tomb, wherein his corpse shall be interr’d;
Upon the which, that everyone may read,
Shall be engraved the sack of Orleans,
The treacherous manner of his mournful death
And what a terror he had been to France.
TALBOT
But, lords, in all our bloody massacre,
I muse we met not with the Dauphin’s grace,
His new-come champion, virtuous Joan of Arc,
Nor any of his false confederates.
BEDFORD
thought, Lord Talbot, when the fight began,
Rous’d on the sudden from their drowsy beds,
They did amongst the troops of armed men
Leap the walls for refuge in the field.
BURGUNDY
Myself, as far as I could well discern
For smoke and dusky vapors of the night,
Am sure I scared the Dauphin and his trull,
When arm in arm they both came swiftly running,
Like to a pair of loving turtle-doves
That could not live asunder day or night.
After that things are set in order here,
We’ll follow them with all the power we have.
MESSENGER
All hail, my lords! Which of this princely train
Call 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 renown,
By me entreats, great lord, vouchsafe
To visit her poor castle where she lies,
That she may boast she 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,
When ladies crave to be encounter’d with.
You may not, my lord, despise her gentle suit.
TALBOT
trust me then; for when a world of men
Could not prevail with all their oratory,
Yet a woman’s kindness over-ruled.
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, it is more than manners will;
And I have heard it said, unbidden guests
Are often welcomest when they are gone.
TALBOT
Well then, alone, since there’s no remedy,
I mean to prove this lady’s courtesy.
Come , Captain. You perceive my mind?
CAPTAIN
I do, my lord, and mean accordingly.