France. Before Angiers. |
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Alarum: Excursions. Enter JOAN LA PUCELLE. |
Joan. The regent conquers and the Frenchmen fly. |
Now help, ye charming spells and periapts; |
And ye choice spirits that admonish me |
And give me signs of future accidents: [Thunder. |
You speedy helpers, that are substitutes |
Under the lordly monarch of the north, |
Appear, and aid me in this enterprise! |
|
Enter Fiends. |
This speedy and quick appearance argues proof |
Of your accustom'd diligence to me. |
Now, ye familiar spirits, that are cull'd |
Out of the powerful regions under earth, |
Help me this once, that France may get the field. [They walk, and speak not. |
O! hold me not with silence over-long. |
Where I was wont to feed you with my blood, |
I'll lop a member off and give it you, |
In earnest of a further benefit, |
So you do condescend to help me now. [They hang their heads. |
No hope to have redress? My body shall |
Pay recompense, if you will grant my suit. [They shake their heads. |
Cannot my body nor blood-sacrifice |
Entreat you to your wonted furtherance? |
Then take my soul; my body, soul, and all, |
Before that England give the French the foil. [They depart. |
See! they forsake me. Now the time is come, |
That France must vail her lofty-plumed crest, |
And let her head fall into England's lap. |
My ancient incantations are too weak, |
And hell too strong for me to buckle with: |
Now, France, thy glory droopeth to the dust. [Exit. |
|
Alarum. Enter French and English fighting: JOAN LA PUCELLE and YORK fight hand to hand: JOAN LA PUCELLE is taken. The French fly. |
York. Damsel of France, I think I have you fast: |
Unchain your spirits now with spelling charms, |
And try if they can gain your liberty. |
A goodly prize, fit for the devil's grace! |
See how the ugly witch doth bend her brows, |
As if with Circe she would change my shape. |
Joan. Chang'd to a worser shape thou canst not be. |
York. O! Charles the Dauphin is a proper man; |
No shape but his can please your dainty eye. |
Joan. A plaguing mischief light on Charles and thee! |
And may ye both be suddenly surpris'd |
By bloody hands, in sleeping on your beds! |
York. Fell banning hag, enchantress, hold thy tongue! |
Joan. I prithee, give me leave to curse a while. |
York. Curse, miscreant, when thou comest to the stake. [Exeunt. |
|
Alarum. Enter SUFFOLK, with MARGARET in his hand. |
Suf. Be what thou wilt, thou art my prisoner. [Gazes on her. |
O fairest beauty! do not fear nor fly, |
For I will touch thee but with reverent hands. |
I kiss these fingers for eternal peace, |
And lay them gently on thy tender side. |
What art thou? say, that I may honour thee. |
Mar. Margaret my name, and daughter to a king, |
The King of Naples, whosoe'er thou art. |
Suf. An earl I am, and Suffolk am I call'd. |
Be not offended, nature's miracle, |
Thou art allotted to be ta'en by me: |
So doth the swan her downy cygnets save, |
Keeping them prisoners underneath her wings. |
Yet if this servile usage once offend, |
Go and be free again, as Suffolk's friend. [She turns away as going. |
O stay! I have no power to let her pass; |
My hand would free her, but my heart says no. |
As plays the sun upon the glassy streams, |
Twinkling another counterfeited beam, |
So seems this gorgeous beauty to mine eyes. |
Fain would I woo her, yet I dare not speak: |
I'll call for pen and ink and write my mind. |
Fie, De la Pole! disable not thyself; |
Hast not a tongue? is she not here thy prisoner? |
Wilt thou be daunted at a woman's sight? |
Ay; beauty's princely majesty is such |
Confounds the tongue and makes the senses rough. |
Mar. Say, Earl of Suffolk,—if thy name be so,— |
What ransom must I pay before I pass? |
For I perceive, I am thy prisoner. |
Suf. [Aside.] How canst thou tell she will deny thy suit, |
Before thou make a trial of her love? |
Mar. Why speak'st thou not? what ransom must I pay? |
Suf. [Aside.] She's beautiful and therefore to be woo'd, |
She is a woman, therefore to be won. |
Mar. Wilt thou accept of ransom, yea or no? |
Suf. [Aside.] Fond man! remember that thou hast a wife; |
Then how can Margaret be thy paramour? |
Mar. I were best to leave him, for he will not hear. |
Suf. [Aside.] There all is marr'd; there lies a cooling card. |
Mar. He talks at random; sure, the man is mad. |
Suf. [Aside.] And yet a dispensation may be had. |
Mar. And yet I would that you would answer me. |
Suf. [Aside.] I'll win this Lady Margaret. For whom? |
Why, for my king: tush! that's a wooden thing. |
Mar. [Overhearing him.] He talks of wood: it is some carpenter. |
Suf. [Aside.] Yet so my fancy may be satisfied, |
And peace established between these realms. |
But there remains a scruple in that too; |
For though her father be the King of Naples, |
Duke of Anjou and Maine, yet is he poor, |
And our nobility will scorn the match. |
Mar. Hear ye, captain? Are you not at leisure? |
Suf. [Aside.] It shall be so, disdain they ne'er so much: |
Henry is youthful and will quickly yield. |
Madam, I have a secret to reveal. |
Mar. [Aside.] What though I be enthrall'd? he seems a knight, |
And will not any way dishonour me. |
Suf. Lady, vouchsafe to listen what I say. |
Mar. [Aside.] Perhaps I shall be rescu'd by the French; |
And then I need not crave his courtesy. |
Suf. Sweet madam, give me hearing in a cause— |
Mar. Tush, women have been captivate ere now. |
Suf. Lady, wherefore talk you so? |
Mar. I cry you mercy, 'tis but quid for quo. |
Suf. Say, gentle princess, would you not suppose |
Your bondage happy to be made a queen? |
Mar. To be a queen in bondage is more vile |
Than is a slave in base servility; |
For princes should be free. |
Suf. And so shall you, |
If happy England's royal king be free. |
Mar. Why, what concerns his freedom unto me? |
Suf. I'll undertake to make thee Henry's queen, |
To put a golden sceptre in thy hand |
And set a precious crown upon thy head, |
If thou wilt condescend to be my— |
Mar. What? |
Suf. His love. |
Mar. I am unworthy to be Henry's wife. |
Suf. No, gentle madam; I unworthy am |
To woo so fair a dame to be his wife |
And have no portion in the choice myself. |
How say you, madam, are you so content? |
Mar. An if my father please, I am content. |
Suf. Then call our captains and our colours forth! |
And, madam, at your father's castle walls |
We'll crave a parley, to confer with him. [Troops come forward. |
|
A Parley sounded. Enter REIGNIER on the Walls. |
Suf. See, Reignier, see thy daughter prisoner! |
Reig. To whom? |
Suf. To me. |
Reig. Suffolk, what remedy? |
I am a soldier, and unapt to weep, |
Or to exclaim on Fortune's fickleness. |
Suf. Yes, there is remedy enough, my lord: |
Consent, and for thy honour, give consent, |
Thy daughter shall be wedded to my king, |
Whom I with pain have woo'd and won thereto; |
And this her easy-held imprisonment |
Hath gain'd thy daughter princely liberty. |
Reig. Speaks Suffolk as he thinks? |
Suf. Fair Margaret knows |
That Suffolk doth not flatter, face, or feign. |
Reig. Upon thy princely warrant, I descend |
To give thee answer of thy just demand. [Exit from the walls. |
Suf. And here I will expect thy coming. |
|
Trumpets sound. Enter REIGNIER, below. |
Reig. Welcome, brave earl, into our territories: |
Command in Anjou what your honour pleases. |
Suf. Thanks, Reignier, happy for so sweet a child, |
Fit to be made companion with a king. |
What answer makes your Grace unto my suit? |
Reig. Since thou dost deign to woo her little worth |
To be the princely bride of such a lord, |
Upon condition I may quietly |
Enjoy mine own, the county Maine and Anjou, |
Free from oppression or the stroke of war, |
My daughter shall be Henry's if he please. |
Suf. That is her ransom; I deliver her; |
And those two counties I will undertake |
Your Grace shall well and quietly enjoy. |
Reig. And I again, in Henry's royal name, |
As deputy unto that gracious king, |
Give thee her hand for sign of plighted faith. |
Suf. Reignier of France, I give thee kingly thanks, |
Because this is in traffic of a king: |
[Aside.] And yet, methinks, I could be well content |
To be mine own attorney in this case. |
I'll over then, to England with this news, |
And make this marriage to be solemniz'd. |
So farewell, Reignier: set this diamond safe, |
In golden palaces, as it becomes. |
Reig. I do embrace thee, as I would embrace |
The Christian prince, King Henry, were he here. |
Mar. Farewell, my lord. Good wishes, praise, and prayers |
Shall Suffolk ever have of Margaret. [Going. |
Suf. Farewell, sweet madam! but hark you, Margaret; |
No princely commendations to my king? |
Mar. Such commendations as become a maid, |
A virgin, and his servant, say to him. |
Suf. Words sweetly plac'd and modestly directed. |
But madam, I must trouble you again, |
No loving token to his majesty? |
Mar. Yes, my good lord; a pure unspotted heart, |
Never yet taint with love, I send the king. |
Suf. And this withal. [Kisses her. |
Mar. That for thyself: I will not so presume, |
To send such peevish tokens to a king. [Exeunt REIGNIER and MARGARET. |
Suf. O! wert thou for myself! But Suffolk, stay; |
Thou mayst not wander in that labyrinth; |
There Minotaurs and ugly treasons lurk. |
Solicit Henry with her wondrous praise: |
Bethink thee on her virtues that surmount |
And natural graces that extinguish art; |
Repeat their semblance often on the seas, |
That, when thou com'st to kneel at Henry's feet, |
Thou mayst bereave him of his wits with wonder. [Exit. |
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