Mess. Success unto our valiant general, And happiness to his accomplices!

Char. What tidings send our scouts? I pr'ythee speak.

Mess. The English army, that divided was Into two parts, is now conjoined in one; And means to give you battle presently. Char.Somewhat too sudden, sirs, the warning is; But we will presently provide for them.

Bur. I trust the ghost of Talbot is not there: Now he is gone, my lord, you need not fear.

Puc. Of all base passions, fear is most accursed:

Command the conquest, Charles, it shall be thine; Let Henry fret, and all the world repine.

Char. Then on, my lords; and France be fortunate!

[Exeunt.

SCENE III.-The same. Before Angiers. Alarums; Excursions. Enter LA PUCELLE. Puc. 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 quick appearance argues proof

Of your accustomed diligence to me.
Now, ye familiar spirits, that are culled
Out of the powerful regions under earth,
Help me this once, that France may get the field.
[They walk about 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-pluméd 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.

Alarums; Enter French and English fighting. LA PUCELLE and YORK fight hand to hand. 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.
Puc. Changed to a worser shape thou canst
not be.

York. O, Charles the Dauphin is a proper

For I will touch thee but with reverent hands:
I kiss these fingers [kissing her hand] for eternal

peace,

And lay them gently on thy tender side.
Who 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 am I, and Suffolk am I called.
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 Poole! 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. How canst thou tell she will deny thy suit, Before thou make a trial of her love? [Aside. Mar. Why speak'st thou not? what ransom

Suf. Fond man, remember that thou hast a wife:

Then how can Margaret be thy paramour? [Aside.

Mar. I were best to leave him, for he will not hear.

Suf. There all is marred; there lies a cooling

card.

Mar. He talks at random: sure the man is mad.

Suf. And yet a dispensation may be had. Mar. And yet I would that you would answer me. Suf. I'll win this lady Margaret. For whom? Why, for my king. Tush! that's a wooden thing. Mar. He talks of wood: it is some carpenter. Suf. 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. [Aside. Mar. Hear ye, captain: are you not at leisure? Suf. 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. What though I be enthralled? he seems

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. Reig.

To me.

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 wooed and won thereto :
And this her easy-held imprisonment
Hath gained thy daughter princely liberty.
Reig. Speaks Suffolk as he thinks?
Fair Margaret knows

Suf. That Suffolk doth not flatter, face, or feign. Reig. Upon thy princely warrant, I descend, To give thee answer of thy just demands.

[Exit from the walls. Suf. 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. Suf. Thanks. Reignier; happy for so sweet a child,

suit?

Fit to be made companion with a king.
What answer makes your grace unto my
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,

[Kisses her.

Never yet taint with love, I send the king.
Suf. And this withal.
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;
There Minotaurs and ugly treasons lurk.
Solicit Henry with her wondrous praise:
Bethhk thee on her virtues, that surmount;
Mad, 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-Carp of the DUKE OF YORK, in Anjou.

Enter YOR, WARWICK, and others. York. Bring forth that sorceress, condemned

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 timeles cruel death?
Ah, Joan, sweet daughter Joan, I'll die with
thee!

Puc. Decrepit miser; 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,

't is 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! 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 suborned 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.Kneel down and take my blessing, good my girl. Wilt thou not stoop? Now curséd 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, curséd drab?

O burn her, burn her! hanging is too good. [Exit. York. Take her away; for she hath lived too long,

To fill the world with vicious qualities.

Puc. First let me tell you whom you have condemned:

Not me begotten of a shepherd swain,
But issued from the progeny of kings:
Virtuous and holy; chosen from above,
By inspiration of celestial grace,
To work exceeding miracles on earth.
I never had to do with wicked spirits:
But you, that are polluted with your lusts,
Stained 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, misconceivéd! Joan of Arc hath been
A virgin from her tender infancy,
Chaste and immaculate in very thought:
Whose maiden blood, thus rigorously effused,
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 shortenéd.

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.