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.
Suff. 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. Suff. See, Reignier, see, thy daughter prisoner. Reig. To whom?

Suff

Reig.

To me.

Suffolk, what remedy?

I am a soldier; and unapt to weep,
Or to exclaim on fortune's fickleness.

Suff. 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?

Suff
Fair Margaret knows,
That Suffolk doth not flatter, face,1 or feign.
Reig. Upon thy princely warrant, I descend,
To give thee answer of thy just demand.

[Exit, from the walls. Suff. And here I will expect thy coming. Trumpets sounded. Enter Reignier, below. Reig. Welcome, brave earl, into our territories; Command in Anjou what your honour pleases. Suff. Thanks, Reignier, happy for so sweet a child,

Fit to be made companion with a king:
What answer makes your grace unto my suit?

(1) Play the hypocrite.

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.
Suff. 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.
Suff: 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. Suff. 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.

Suff. 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.

Suff. And this withal.

[Kisses her.

Mar. That for thyself;-I will not so presume,

To send such peevish1 tokens to a king.

[Exeunt Reignier and Margaret. Suff. O, wert thou for myself!-But, Suffolk, stay; Thou may'st not wander in that labyrinth; There Minotaurs, and ugly treasons, lurk. Solicit Henry with her wond'rous praise: Bethink thee on her virtues that surmount; Mad,2 natural graces that extinguish art; Repeat their semblance often on the seas, 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 timeless3 cruel death?
Ah, Joan, sweet daughter Joan, I'll die with thee!
Puc. Decrepit miser 4 base ignoble wretch!
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. Fie, Joan! that thou wilt be so obstacle !5 (1) Childish. (2) Wild. (3) Untimely. (4) Miser here simply means a miserable creature. (5) A corruption of obstinate.

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,

On 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. Kneel down and take my blessing, good my girl. Wilt thou not stoop? Now cursed be the time Of thy nativity! I would, the milk

Thy mother gave thee, when thou suck'dst her breast,

Had been a little ratsbane for thy sake!

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

demn'd:

you

whom you

Not me begotten of a shepherd swain,
But issu'd from the progeny of kings;
Virtuous, and holy; chosen from above,
By inspiration of celestial grace,

have con

To work exceeding miracles on earth.
I never had to do with wicked spirits:
But you, that are polluted with your lusts,
Stain'd with the guiltless blood of innocents,
Corrupt and tainted with a thousand vices,-
Because you want the grace that others have,
You judge it straight a thing impossible
To compass wonders, but by help of devils.
No, misconceived!! Joan of Arc hath been
A virgin from her tender infancy,
Chaste and immaculate in very thought;

(1) No, ye misconceivers, ye who mistake me and my qualities.'

Whose maiden blood, thus rigorously effus'd,
Will cry for vengeance at the gates of heaven.
York. Ay, ay-away with her to execution.
War. And hark ye, sirs; because she is a maid,
Spare for no faggots, let there be enough:
Place barrels of pitch upon the fatal stake,
That so her torture may be shortened.

Puc. Will nothing turn your unrelenting hearts?--Then, Joan, discover thine infirmity;

That warranteth by law to be thy privilege.-
I am with child, ye bloody homicides:
Murder not then the fruit within my womb,
Although ye hale me to a violent death.

York. Now heaven forefend! the holy maid with child?

War. The greatest miracle that e'er ye wrought: Is all your strict preciseness come to this?

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 well,

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 abode!