Chapter: ACT II. SCENE 1.

Before Orleans

Enter a FRENCH SERGEANT and two SENTINELS

  SERGEANT. Sirs, take your places and be vigilant.
    If any noise or soldier you perceive
    Near to the walls, by some apparent sign
    Let us have knowledge at the court of guard.
  FIRST SENTINEL. Sergeant, you shall.           [Exit SERGEANT]
    Thus are poor servitors,
    When others sleep upon their quiet beds,
    Constrain'd to watch in darkness, rain, and cold.

             Enter TALBOT, BEDFORD, BURGUNDY, and forces,
          with scaling-ladders; their drums beating a dead
                              march

  TALBOT. Lord Regent, and redoubted Burgundy,
    By whose approach the regions of Artois,
    Wallon, and Picardy, are friends to us,
    This happy night the Frenchmen are secure,
    Having all day carous'd and banqueted;
    Embrace we then this opportunity,
    As fitting best to quittance their deceit,
    Contriv'd by art and baleful sorcery.
  BEDFORD. Coward of France, how much he wrongs his fame,
    Despairing of his own arm's fortitude,
    To join with witches and the help of hell!
  BURGUNDY. Traitors have never other company.
    But what's that Pucelle whom they term so pure?
  TALBOT. A maid, they say.
  BEDFORD. A maid! and be so martial!
  BURGUNDY. Pray God she prove not masculine ere long,
    If underneath the standard of the French
    She carry armour as she hath begun.
  TALBOT. Well, let them practise and converse with spirits:
    God is our fortress, in whose conquering name
    Let us resolve to scale their flinty bulwarks.
  BEDFORD. Ascend, brave Talbot; we will follow thee.
  TALBOT. Not all together; better far, I guess,
    That we do make our entrance several ways;
    That if it chance the one of us do fail
    The other yet may rise against their force.
  BEDFORD. Agreed; I'll to yond corner.
  BURGUNDY. And I to this.
  TALBOT. And here will Talbot mount or make his grave.
    Now, Salisbury, for thee, and for the right
    Of English Henry, shall this night appear
    How much in duty I am bound to both.
             [The English scale the walls and cry 'Saint George!
                                                     a Talbot!']
    SENTINEL. Arm! arm! The enemy doth make assault.

           The French leap o'er the walls in their shirts.
           Enter, several ways, BASTARD, ALENCON, REIGNIER,
                     half ready and half unready

  ALENCON. How now, my lords? What, all unready so?
  BASTARD. Unready! Ay, and glad we 'scap'd so well.
  REIGNIER. 'Twas time, I trow, to wake and leave our beds,
    Hearing alarums at our chamber doors.
  ALENCON. Of all exploits since first I follow'd arms
    Ne'er heard I of a warlike enterprise
    More venturous or desperate than this.
  BASTARD. I think this Talbot be a fiend of hell.
  REIGNIER. If not of hell, the heavens, sure, favour him
  ALENCON. Here cometh Charles; I marvel how he sped.

                    Enter CHARLES and LA PUCELLE

  BASTARD. Tut! holy Joan was his defensive guard.
  CHARLES. Is this thy cunning, thou deceitful dame?
    Didst thou at first, to flatter us withal,
    Make us partakers of a little gain
    That now our loss might be ten times so much?
  PUCELLE. Wherefore is Charles impatient with his friend?
    At all times will you have my power alike?
    Sleeping or waking, must I still prevail
    Or will you blame and lay the fault on me?
    Improvident soldiers! Had your watch been good
    This sudden mischief never could have fall'n.
  CHARLES. Duke of Alencon, this was your default
    That, being captain of the watch to-night,
    Did look no better to that weighty charge.
  ALENCON. Had all your quarters been as safely kept
    As that whereof I had the government,
    We had not been thus shamefully surpris'd.
  BASTARD. Mine was secure.
  REIGNIER. And so was mine, my lord.
  CHARLES. And, for myself, most part of all this night,
    Within her quarter and mine own precinct
    I was employ'd in passing to and fro
    About relieving of the sentinels.
    Then how or which way should they first break in?
  PUCELLE. Question, my lords, no further of the case,
    How or which way; 'tis sure they found some place
    But weakly guarded, where the breach was made.
    And now there rests no other shift but this
    To gather our soldiers, scatter'd and dispers'd,
    And lay new platforms to endamage them.

               Alarum. Enter an ENGLISH SOLDIER, crying
            'A Talbot! A Talbot!' They fly, leaving their
                           clothes behind

  SOLDIER. I'll be so bold to take what they have left.
    The cry of Talbot serves me for a sword;
    For I have loaden me with many spoils,
    Using no other weapon but his name.                     Exit





SCENE 2.

                      ORLEANS. Within the town

            Enter TALBOT, BEDFORD, BURGUNDY, a CAPTAIN,
                           and others

  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.
                                               [Retreat sounded]
  TALBOT. Bring forth the body of old Salisbury
    And here advance it in the market-place,
    The middle centre of this cursed town.
    Now have I paid my vow unto his soul;
    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 happened in revenge of him,
    Within their chiefest temple I'll erect
    A tomb, wherein his corpse shall be interr'd;
    Upon the which, that every one may read,
    Shall be engrav'd the sack of Orleans,
    The treacherous manner of his mournful death,
    And what a terror he had been to France.
    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. 'Tis 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 o'er the walls for refuge in the field.
  BURGUNDY. Myself, as far as I could well discern
    For smoke and dusky vapours of the night,
    Am sure I scar'd 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.

                          Enter a MESSENGER

  MESSENGER. 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?
  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
    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 into a peaceful comic sport,
    When ladies crave to be encount'red 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 overrul'd;
    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
    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 hither, Captain.  [Whispers]   You perceive my mind?
  CAPTAIN. I do, my lord, and mean accordingly.           Exeunt





SCENE 3.

                      AUVERGNE. The Castle

               Enter the COUNTESS 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.
  COUNTESS. 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.

  MESSENGER. Madam, according as your ladyship desir'd,
    By message crav'd, 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 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 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,
    I'll sort some other time to visit you.              [Going]
  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,
    I go to certify her Talbot's here.

                      Re-enter PORTER With keys

  COUNTESS. If thou be he, then art thou prisoner.
  TALBOT. Prisoner! To whom?
  COUNTESS. To me, blood-thirsty 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.
  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
    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 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,
    It is of such a spacious lofty pitch
    Your roof were not sufficient to contain 't.
  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
    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.
  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
    I did not entertain thee as thou art.
  TALBOT. Be not dismay'd, 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.
    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
    To feast so great a warrior in my house.              Exeunt

 A French soldier instructs several sentinels to keep watch on the walls. Talbot enters with Bedford and Burgundy and other soldiers, equipped with ladders. Talbot says that they have chosen the best time to launch a surprise attack, for the French have tired themselves out in celebrations. Bedford and Burgundy criticize Charles for thinking so little of the strength of his troops that he would turn to a witch for aid. The English lords split up and enter the city from three different directions. Talbot and his men scale the wall and the sentinels call the alarm. Alencon and Rene emerge, half equipped for battle, followed by Charles and Joan. Charles asks Joan if she has been treacherous and helped the British mount this surprise attack. But she tells him he is just being impatient with her, unfairly expecting her to prevail both while awake and while sleeping. She says the blame is not hers but that of Charles's bad watchmen. Charles condemns Alencon, as it was his men who were on the watch that night. Now the lords fall to accusing each other of forming the weak link in the fortifications, but Joan tells them to stop disagreeing and repair the damage. The next morning Bedford and Talbot hear the French sounding the retreat. Talbot calls for the body of Salisbury to be brought into the city. Talbot intends to bury him in the center of Orleans so that everyone may know of his death and the sack of Orleans. A messenger arrives and asks for Talbot: the Countess of Auvergne summons him to her castle so she may behold the man who has achieved such fame. Burgundy thinks her request trivializes war and tells Talbot to ignore it. Talbot, however, decides to visit her and sends the messenger back to the Countess to announce his acceptance. The Countess prepares for Talbot's visit, remarking that if her plans come off, she will be famous. The messenger announces the arrival of Talbot. Seeing him, the Countess wonders aloud if Talbot can be the same man so feared throughout France; she thinks reports of him must be false, for he seems to be neither a Hercules nor a Hector , and doesn't strike an imposing image. Hearing her expressions of doubt, he turns to leave. She calls him back, however, and when he confirms his identity, she replies that he is then a prisoner. "Prisoner! To whom?" he asks; "To me," the Countess replies; she explains that she lured Talbot to her home in order to imprison him and make him pay for the death he reaped among her countrymen. Talbot laughs at the idea that she could try to contain him. At his laughter she asks, "Art thou not he ?" He says that he is the man known as Talbot, but what she sees of him is not all he is. Rather, what she sees is the smallest part of him, and her castle could never contain the sum of his parts. The Countess thinks he speaks in riddles, so he shows her what he means by blowing on his trumpet. Instantly, English soldiers arrive, and Talbot explains that they are the substance and arms of the greater Talbot, who still holds power over the towns of France. The Countess asks Talbot to forgive her actions, since she misunderstood his power. Talbot says he is not offended and asks that his soldiers may dine at her home.

