Count. What means he now? Go ask whither he

goes.
Meff. Stay, my lord Talbot, for my lady craves
To know the cause of your abrupt departure.
Tal. Marry, for that he's in a wrong belief,
I go to certifie her, Talbot's here.

Enter Porter with keys.

Count. If thou be he, then art thou prifoner.
Tal. Pris'ner? to whom?

Count. To me, blood-thirsty lord :

And for that cause I train'd thee to my house.
Long time thy fhadow hath been thrall to me,
For in my gallery thy picture hangs :

But now the fubftance fhall endure the like,
And I will chain thefe legs and arms of thine,-
That haft by tyranny thefe many years
Wafted our country, flain our citizens,
And fent our fons and husbands captivate.
Tal. Ha, ha, ha.

Count. Laugheft thou wretch? thy mirth fhall turn to

moan.

Tal. I laugh to fee your ladyship fo fond,

To think that you have ought but Talbot's fhadow
Whereon to practise your severity.

Count. Why? art not thou the man?

Tal. I am indeed.

Count. Then have I fubftance too.

my

felf:

Tal. No, no, I am but shadow of
You are deceiv'd, my fubftance is not here
For what you fee is but the fmalleft part
And leaft proportion of humanity:

I tell you, Madam, were the whole frame here,
It is of fuch a fpacious lofty pitch,

Your roof were not fufficient to contain it.

Count. This is a riddling merchant for the nonce, He will be here, and yet he is not here :

How can these contrarieties agree?

Tal. That will I fhew you prefently.

B-4

Winds

Winds his horn, drums ftrike up, a peal of Ordnance.
Enter Soldiers.

How fay you, Madam? are you now perfuaded
That Talbot is but fhadow of himself?

Thefe are his fubftance, finews, arms and ftrength,
With which he yoaketh your rebellious necks,
Razeth your cities and fubverts your towns,
And in a moment makes them defolate.

Count. Victorious Talbot, pardon my abufe;
I find thou art no less than fame hath bruited,
And more than may be gather'd by thy fhape.
Let my prefumption not provoke thy wrath,
For I am forry that with reverence

I did not entertain thee as thou art.

Tal. Be not difmay'd, fair lady, nor mifconftrue The mind of Talbot, as you did mistake

The outward compofition of his body.

What you have done hath not offended me :
Nor other fatisfaction do I crave,

But only with your patience that we may

Tafte of your wine, and fee what cates you have,
For foldiers ftomachs always ferve them well.

Count. With all my heart, and think me honoured To feast fo great a warrior in my house.

[Exeunt.

SCENE V.

Changes to London, in the Temple garden.

Enter Richard Plantagenet, Warwick, Somerfet,
Suffolk, and others.

•Plan. G

Reat lords and gentlemen, what means this

filence?

Dare no man answer in a cafe of truth?

Suf. Within the Temple-hall we were too loud,

The garden here is more convenient.

Plan.

Plan. Then fay at once if I maintain'd the truth: Or elfe was wrangling Somerset in th' error?

Suf. Faith I have been a truant in the law, I never yet could frame my will to it,

And therefore frame the law unto my will.

Som. Judge you, my lord of Warwick, then be-

tween us.

War. Between two hawks, which flies the highers pitch;

;

Between two dogs, which hath the deeper mouth
Between two blades, which bears the better temper
Between two horfes, which doth bear him beft;
Between two girls, which hath the merrieft eye,
I have perhaps fome fhallow fpirit of judgment:
But in thefe nice fharp quillets of the law,
Good faith I am no wiser than a daw.

Plan. Tut, tut, here is a mannerly forbearance:
The truth appears fo naked on my fide,
That any pur-blind eye may find it out.

Som. And on my fide it is fo well apparell'd,,

So clear, fo fhining, and fo evident,

That it will glimmer through a blind man's eye..

Plan. Since you are tongue-ty'd, and fo loth to speak,. In dumb fignificance proclaim your thoughts:.

Let him that is a true-born gentleman

And ftands upon the honour of his birth,
If he fuppofe that I have pleaded truth,

From off this briar pluck a white rofe with me.

Som. Let him that is no coward, and no flatterers, But dare maintain the party of the truth,.

Pluck a red rofe from off this thorn with me..

War. I love no colours; and without all colours

Of base infinuating flattery,

I pluck this white rofe with Plantagenet.

Suf. I pluck this red rofe with young Somerset, And fay withal I think he held the right.

Ver. Stay, lords and gentlemen, and pluck' no more,, 'Till you conclude that he upon whofe fide.

The feweft rofes are crop'd from the tree,
Shall yield the other in the right opinion...

Som. Good mafter Vernon, it is well objected, If I have fewest, I fubfcribe in filence.

Plan. And I.

Ver. Then for the truth and plainness of the cafe,
I pluck this pale and maiden bloffom here,
Giving my verdict on the white rose fide, *
Som. Well, well, come on, who else?

Lawyer. Unlefs my ftudy and my books be falfe,

The argument you held was wrong in you;

[To Somerfet:

In fign whereof I pluck a white rose too.
Plan. Now Somerfet, where is your argument?
Som. Here in my fcabbard, meditating that
Shall dye your white rofe to a bloody red.*
Plan. Now by this maiden bloffom in my

the white Rofe fide.

hand,

Som. Prick not your finger as you pluck it off,
Left bleeding you do paint the white rofe red,
And fall on my fide fo against your will.

Ver. If I, my lord, for my opinion bleed,
Opinion fhall be furgeon to my hurt,
And keep me on the fide where ftill I am.
Som. Well, well, &c.

a bloody red.

Plan. Mean time your

I

cheeks do counterfeit our Rofes,

For pale they look with fear, as witneffing
The truth on our fide.

Som. No, Plantagenet,

"Tis not for fear but anger, that thy cheeks
Blufh for pure fhame to counterfeit our Rofes,
And yet thy tongue will not confefs thy error.
Plan. Hath not thy Rofe a canker, Somerset ?
Som. Hath not thy Rofe a thorn, Plantagenet?
Plan. Ay, fharp and piercing to maintain his truth,
Whiles thy confuming canker eats his falfhood.

Sɔm. Well, I'll find friends to wear my bleeding Rofes,
Thrat fhall maintain what I have faid is true,
Where falfe Plantagenet dare not be feen.
Plan. Now by this maiden-

I fcorn thee and thy a paffion, peevish boy.
Suf. Turn not thy fcorns this way, Plantagenet.
Plan. Proud Pool, I will, and (corn both him and thee.
Suf. I'll turn my part thereof into thy throat.
Som. Away, away, good William de la Pool
We grace the Yeoman by converfing with him.

my words

War. Now by God's will thou wrong'ft him, Somerfer.
His grandfather was Lyonel Duke of Clarence,
Third fon to the third Edward King of England:
Spring creftless Yeomen from fo deep a root?
Plan. He bears him on the place's privilege,
Or durft not for his craven heart fay thus.
Som. By him that made me, I'll maintain
On any plot of ground in Christendom.
Was not thy father, Richard, Earl of Cambridge,
For treafon headed in our late King's days?
And by his treason ftand'ft not thou attainted,
Corrupted and exempt from antient gentry?
His trefpafs yet lives guilty in thy blood,
And till thou be reftor'd, thou art a yeoman.
Plan. My father was attached, not attainted,
Condemn'd to die for treafon, but no traitor
And that I'll
prove on better men than Somerfet
Were growing time once ripen'd to my will
For your partaker Pool, and you your self,
I'll note you in my book of memory,
To fcourge you for this apprehenfion;
Look to it well, and fay you are well warn'd.

Som. Ah, thou fhalt find us ready for thee ftill;
And know us by thefe colours for thy foes:
For thefe my friends in fpight of thee shall wear.
Plan. And by my foul, this pale and angry rofe
As cognizance of my blood-drinking hate,
Will I for ever and my faction wear,
Until it wither with me to my grave,

Or flourish to the height of my degree.

Suf. Go forward, and be choak'd with thy ambition: And fo farewel until I meet thee next.

[Exit

a fashion.

Som.