Act 2 - Scene 2
Orleans. Within the town.
Enter TALBOT, BEDFORD, BURGUNDY, a Captain, and others
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.
Bring forth the body of old Salisbury,
And here advance it in the market-place,
The middle centre of this
Now have I paid my vow unto his soul;
For every drop of blood was drawn from him,
hath 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:
which, that every one may read,
Shall be engraved the sack of Orleans,
The treacherous manner of his
And what a terror he had been to France.
But, lords, in all our bloody massacre,
we met not with the Dauphin's grace,
His new-come champion, virtuous Joan of Arc,
Nor any of his false
'Tis thought, Lord Talbot, when the fight began,
Roused on the sudden from their drowsy beds,
amongst the troops of armed men
Leap o'er the walls for refuge in the field.
Myself, as far as I could well discern
For smoke and dusky vapours 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-
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
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?
Here is the Talbot: who would speak with him?
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
Whose glory fills the world with loud report.
Is it even so? Nay, then, I see our wars
Will turn unto a peaceful comic sport,
When ladies crave to be
You may not, my lord, despise her gentle suit.
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