TALBOT.
Marry, for that she’s in a wrong belief,
I go to certify her Talbot’s here.
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 practice your severity.
COUNTESS.
Why, art not thou the man?
TALBOT.
I am indeed.