As deputy under 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 traffick of a king: And yet, methinks, I could be well content [Aside. 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 may'st not wander in that labyrinth; Mad, natural graces that extinguish art; That, when thou com'st to kneel at Henry's feet, Thou may'st bereave him of his wits with wonder. [Exit. SCENE IV.-Camp of the Duke of York, in Anjou. Enter YORK, WARWICK, and others. York. Bring forth that sorceress, condemn'd to burn. Enter LA PUCELLE, guarded, and a Shepherd. Shep. Ah, Joan! this kills thy father's heart outright! Have I sought every country far and near, And, now it is my chance to find thee out, Must I behold thy timeless cruel death? Ah, Joan, sweet daughter Joan, I'll die with thee! I am descended of a gentler blood; Thou art no father, nor no friend, of mine. Shep. Out, out!—My lords, an please you, 'tis not so: I did beget her, all the parish knows: Her mother liveth yet, can testify, She was the first fruit of my bachelorship. War. Graceless! wilt thou deny thy parentage? York. This argues what her kind of life hath been; Wicked and vile; and so her death concludes. Shep. Fye, Joan! that thou wilt be so obstacle! God knows, thou art a collop of my flesh; And for thy sake have I shed many a tear: Deny me not, I pr'ythee, gentle Joan. Puc. Peasant, avaunt!-You have suborn'd this man, Of purpose to obscure my noble birth. Shep. 'Tis true, I gave a noble to the priest, The morn that I was wedded to her mother.- Thy mother gave thee, when thou suck'dst her breast, Or else, when thou didst keep my lambs a-field, I wish some ravenous wolf had eaten thee! Dost thou deny thy father, cursed drab? O, burn her, burn her; hanging is too good. [Exit York. Take her away; for she hath liv'd too long, To fill the world with vicious qualities. Puc. First, let me tell you whom you have condemn'd Chaste and immaculate in very thought; Place barrels of pitch upon the fatal stake, Puc. Will nothing turn your unrelenting hearts?— Then, Joan, discover thine infirmity; That warranteth by law to be thy privilege.- York. Now heaven forefend! the holy maid with child? York. She and the Dauphin have been juggling: I did imagine what would be her refuge. War. Well, go to; we will have no bastards live; Especially, since Charles must father it. Puc. You are deceiv'd; my child is none of his; It was Alençon, that enjoy'd my love. York. Alençon! that notorious Machiavel! It dies, an if it had a thousand lives. Puc. O, give me leave, I have deluded you; 'Twas neither Charles, nor yet the duke I nam'd, But Reignier, king of Naples, that prevail'd. War. A married man! that's most intolerable. York. Why, here's a girl! I think, she knows not There were so many, whom she may accuse. War. It's sign, she hath been liberal and free. York. And, yet, forsooth, she is a virgin pure.Strumpet, thy words condemn thy brat, and thee: Use no entreaty, for it is in vain. Puc. Then lead me hence;-with whom I leave my curse: May never glorious sun reflex his beams Upon the country where you make abodę! But darkness and the gloomy shade of death Environ you; ill mischief, and despair, Drive you to break your necks, or hang yourselves! Enter Cardinal BEAUFORT, attended. Car. Lord regent, I do greet your excellence York. Is all our travail turn'd to this effect? O, Warwick, Warwick! I foresee with grief War. Be patient, York: if we conclude a peace, Enter CHARLES, attended; ALENÇON, Bastard, REIGNIER, and others. Char Since, lords of England, it is thus agreed, |