The Dramatic Works and Poems

And whiles the honourable captain there
Drops bloody sweat from his war-wearied limbs,
And, in advantage ling'ring,' looks for rescue,
You, his false hopes, the trust of England's honour,
Keep off aloof with worthless emulation.2
Let not your private discord keep away
The levied succours that should lend him aid,
While he, renowned noble gentleman,
Yields up his life unto a world of odds:
Orleans the Bastard, Charles, and Burgundy,
Alençon, Reignier, compass him about,
And Talbot perisheth by your default.

Som. York set him on, York should have sent
him aid.

Lucy. And York as fast upon your grace ex-
claims;

Swearing that you withhold his levied host,
Collected for this expedition.

Som. York lies; he might have sent and had the
horse:

I owe him little duty, and less love;

And take foul scorn, to fawn on him by sending.
Lucy. The fraud of England, not the force of
France,

Hath now entrapp'd the noble-minded Talbot :
Never to England shall he bear his life;
But dies, betrayed to fortune by your strife.
Som. Come, go; I will despatch the horsemen
straight:

Within six hours they will be at his aid.

Lucy. Too late comes rescue; he is ta'en, or slain; For fly he could not, if he would have fled; And fly would Talbot never, though he might.

Som. If he be dead, brave Talbot, then adieu! Lucy. His fame lives in the world, his shame in you. [Exeunt. SCENE V. The English Camp, near Bordeaux.

Enter TALBOT and JOHN his Son.

Tal. O young John Talbot! I did send for thee, To tutor thee in stratagems of war; That Talbot's name might be in thee reviv'd, When sapless age, and weak unable limbs, Should bring thy father to his drooping chair. But, O malignant and ill boding stars!Now thou art come unto a feast of death," A terrible and unavoided danger : Therefore, dear boy, mount on my swiftest horse; And I'll direct thee how thou shalt escape By sudden flight: come, dally not, begone. John. Is my name Talbot? and am I your son? And shall I fly? O, if you love my mother, Dishonour not her honourable name, To make a bastard, and a slave of me: The world will say-He is not Talbot's blood, That basely fled, when noble Talbot stood.

Tal. Fly, to revenge my death, if I be slain. John. He, that flies so, will ne'er return again. Tal. If we both stay, we both are sure to die. John. Then let me stay; and, father, do you fly: Your loss is great, so your regard should be; My worth unknown, no loss is known in me. Upon my death the French can little boast; In yours they will, in you all hopes are lost." Flight cannot stain the honour you have won; But mine it will, that no exploit have done : You fled for vantage every one will swear; But, if I bow, they'll say it was for fear." There is no hope that ever I will stay, If, the first hour, I shrink, and run away. Here, on my knee, I beg mortality, Rather than life preserv'd with infamy.

Tal. Shall all thy mother's hopes lie in one tomb?

1 Protracting his resistance by the advantage of a strong post.

2 Emulation here signifies envious rivalry, not ruggle for superior excellence.

3 To a field where death will be feasted with elaughter.

4 Unavoided for unavoidable.

5 For what reason this scene is written in rhyme (eaye Dr. Johnson) I cannot guess. If Shakspeare had not in other plays mingled his rhymes and blank verses

John. Ay, rather than I'll shame my mother's womb.

Tal. Upon my blessing I command thee go.
John. To fight I will, but not to fly the foe.
Tal. Part of thy father may be sav'd in thee.
John. No part of him, but will be shame in me
Tal. Thou never hadst renown, nor canst not
lose it.

John. Yes, your renowned name: Shall flight abuse it?

Tal. Thy father's charge shall clear thee from that stain.

John. You cannot witness for me, being slain, If death be so apparent, then both fly.

Tal. And leave my followers here, to fight, and die ?

My age was never tainted with such shame.
John. And shall my youth be guilty of such
blame?

No more can I be sever'd from your side,
Than can yourself yourself in twain divide:
Stay, go,
do what you will, the like do I;
For live I will not, if my father die.

Tal. Then here I take my leave of thee, fair son,
Born to eclipse thy life this afternoon.
Come, side by side together live and die;
And soul with soul from France to heaven flv.

[Exeunt.

SCENE VI. A Field of Battle. Alarum: Excursions, wherein TALBOT's Son is hemmed about, and TALBOT rescues him.

Tal. Saint George and victory! fight, soldiers, fight:

The regent hath with Talbot broke his word,
And left us to the rage of France his sword.
Where is John Talbot?-pause, and take thy breath;
I gave thee life, and rescu'd thee from death.

John. O twice my father! twice am I thy son:
The life, thou gav'st me first, was lost and done;
Till with thy warlike sword, despite of fate,
To my determin'd' time thou gav'st new date.
Tal. When from the Dauphin's crest thy sword
struck fire,

It warm'd thy father's heart with proud desire
Of bold-fac'd victory. Then leaden age,
Quicken'd with youthful spleen, and warlike rage,
Beat down Alençon, Orleans, Burgundy,
And from the pride of Gallia rescu'd thee.
The ireful bastard Orleans-that drew blood

From thee, my boy; and had the maidenhood
Of thy first fight-I soon encountered;
And, interchanging blows, I quickly shed
Some of his bastard blood; and, in disgrace,
Bespoke him thus: Contaminated, base,
And misbegotten blood I spill of thine,
Mean and right poor; for that pure blood of mine,
Which thou didst force from Talbot, my brave boy :-
Here, purposing the Bastard to destroy,
Came in strong rescue. Speak, thy father's care,
Art thou not weary, John? How dost thou fare?
Wilt thou yet leave the battle, boy, and fly,
Now thou art seal'd the son of chivalry?
Fly, to revenge my death, when I am dead;
The help of one stands me in little stead.
O, too much folly is it, well I wot,

To hazard all our lives in one small boat.
If I to-day die not with Frenchmen's rage,
To-morrow I shall die with mickle age:
By me they nothing gain, an if I stay,
'Tis but the short'ning of my life one day.
In thee thy mother dies, our household's name,

in the same manner, I should have suspected that this dialogue had been part of some other poem, which was never finished, and that being loath to throw his labour away, he inserted it here.' Mr. Boswell remarks that it was a practice common to all Shakspeare's contemporaries.

6 Your care of your own safety.

7 Determined here must signify prescribed, limited, appointed; and not ended, as Steevens and Malone concur in explaining it. John could not be meant to sav that his time of life was actually ended.

My death's revenge, thy youth, and England's fame: | Alarums. Exeunt Soldiers and Servant, leaving
All these, and more, we hazard by thy stay;
All these are sav'd, if thou wilt fly away.

John. The sword of Orleans hath not made me sinart,

[heart:1
These words of yours draw life-blood from my
On that advantage, bought with such a shame
(To save a paltry life, and slay bright fame,)
Before young Talbot from old Talbot fly,
The coward horse, that bears me, fall and die :
And, like2 me to the peasant boys of France;
To be shame's scorn, and subject of mischance!
Surely, by all the glory you have won,
An if I fly, I am not Talbot's son:

Then talk no more of flight, it is no boot;
If son to Talbot, die at Talbot's foot.

Tal. Then follow thou thy desperate sire of
Crete,

Thou Icarus; thy life to me is sweet:

If thou wilt fight, fight by thy father's side;
And, commendable prov'd, let's die in pride.

[Exeunt. SCENE VII. Another Part of the same. Alarum: Excursions. Enter TALBOT wounded, supported by a Servant.

Tal. Where is my other life?-mine own is gone ;

O, where's young Talbot ?-where is valiant John?
Triumphant death, smear'd with captivity!
Young Talbot's valour makes me smile at thee:-
When he perceiv'd me shrink, and on my knee,
His bloody sword he brandish'd over me,
And, like a hungry lion, did commence
Rough deeds of rage, and stern impatience;
But when my angry guardant stood alone,
Tend'ring my ruin, and assail'd of none,
Dizzy-ey'd fury, and great rage of heart,
Suddenly made him from my side to start
Into the clust'ring battle of the French:
And in that sea of blood my boy did drench
His overmounting spirit; and there died
My Icarus, my blossom, in his pride.
Enter Soldiers, bearing the Body of JOHN TALBOT.
Serv. O my dear lord! lo, where your son is

borne !

Tal. Thou antic death, which laugh'st us here to scorn,"

Anon, from thy insulting tyranny,
Coupled in bonds of perpetuity,

o Talbots, winged through the lither sky,
In thy despite shall 'scape mortality.-
O thou, whose wounds become hard-favour'd death,
Speak to thy father, ere thou yield thy breath:
Brave death by speaking, whether he will, or no;
Imagine him a Frenchman, and thy foe.-
Poor boy! he smiles, methinks; as who should say
Had death been French, then death had died to-day.
Come, come, and lay him in his father's arms;
My spirit can no longer bear these harms.
Soldiers, adieu! I have what I would have,
Now my old arms are young John Talbot's grave.
[Dies.
1 Prior has borrowed this thought in his Henry and

Emma:

Are there not poisons, racks, and flames, and swords, That Emma thus must die by Henry's words?' 21. e. compare me, reduce me to a level by parison.

3 See note on King Richard II. Act i. Sc. 1.
4 Thus in the Third Part of King Henry VI. :-
'What a peevish fool was that of Crete.'

the two Bodies. Enter CHARLES, ALENÇON, BURGUNDY, Bastard, LA PUCELLE, and Forces. Char, Had York and Somerset brought rescue m, We should have found a bloody day of this. Bast. How the young whelp of Talbot's, ragingwood,9

Did flesh his puny sword in Frenchmen's blood!
Puc. Once I encounter'd him, and thus I said,
Thou maiden youth, be vanquish'd by a maid:
But-with a proud, majestical high scorn,-
He answer'd thus; Young Talbot was not born
To be the pillage of a giglot wench:
So, rushing in the bowels of the French,"1
He left me proudly, as unworthy fight.

Bur. Doubtless, he would have made a nobie knight:

See, where he lies inhersed in the arms
Of the most bloody nurser of his harms.

Bas. Hew them to pieces, hack their bones
asunder;
Whose life was England's glory, Gallia's wonder.
During the life, let us not wrong it dead.
Char. O, no; forbear: for that which we have fled

Enter SIR WILLIAM LUCY, attended, a French Herald preceding.

We English warriors wot not what it means.
I come to know what prisoners thou hast ta'en,
And to survey the bodies of the dead.

Char. For prisoners ask'st thou? hell our pr son is.

But tell me whom thou seek'st?

Lucy. Where is the great Alcides of the field, Valiant Lord Talbot, earl of Shrewsbury? Created, for his rare success in arms, Great earl of Washford,13 Waterford, and Valence; Lord Talbot of Goodrig and Urchinfield, Lord Cromwell of Wingfield, Lord Furnival of Lord Strange of Blackmere, Lord Verdun of Alton, Sheffield,

The thrice victorious lord of Falconbridge; Knight of the noble order of Saint George, Worthy Saint Michael, and the Golden Fleece; Great mareschal to Henry the Sixth,

Of all his wars within the realm of France?

The Turk, that two and fifty kingdoms hath,
Puc. Here is a silly stately style indeed!
Him, that thou magnifiest with all these titles,
Writes not so tedious a style as this.-
Stinking and flyblown, lies here at our feet.

Lucy. Is Talbot slain; the Frenchman's only

Scourge,

Your kingdom's terror and black Nemesis?
O, were mine eyeballs into bullets turn'd,
O, that I could but call these dead to life!
That I, in rage, might shoot them at your faces!
It were enough to fright the realm of France:
Were but his picture left among you here,

wood is certainly here furiously raging.
9 Wood signified furious as well as mad: raging

10 A giglot is a wanton wench. A minx, gigle (or com-giglet, flirt, callet, or gixie,' says Cotgrave.

5 Triumphant death, though thy presence is made more terrible, on account of the stain of dying in cap. tivity, yet young Talbot's valour makes me smile at thee.

6Watching me with tenderness in my fall.'
7 In King Richard II. we have the same image:-
within the hollow crown

That rounds the mortal temples of a king
Keeps death his court: and there the antic sits
Scoffing his state, and grinning at his pomp.'
8 Lither is flexible, pliant, yielding.

11 We have a similar expression in the First Part of Jeronimo, 1605 :

Meet, Don Andrea! yes, in the battle's bowels. obtained the victory: therefore Hanmer reads :12 Lucy's message implied that he knew who had

'Herald, conduct me to the Dauphin's tent.' 13 Wexford, in Ireland, was anciently called Weys ford. In Crompton's Mansion of Magnanimitie, 1599, it is wrin as here, Washford. This long list of titles is from the epitaph formerly existant on Lord Talbot's tomb at Rouen. It is to be found in the work above cited, with one other, Lord Lovetoft of Worsep,' which would not easily fall into the verse. It concludes as here, and adds,' who died in the battle of Burdeaux, 1453.

It would avaze the proudest of you all.
Give me their bodies; that I may bear them hence,
And give them burial as beseems their worth.

Pue. I think, this upstart is old Talbot's ghost,
He speaks with such a proud commanding spirit.
For God's sake, let him have 'em: to keep them
here,

They would but stink, and putrefy the air.
Char. Go, take their bodies hence.
Lucy.
I'll bear them hence:
But from their ashes shall be rear'd2
A phoenix that shall make all France afeard.
Char. So we be rid of them, do with 'em what
thou wilt.

And now to Paris, in this conquering vein;
All will be ours, now bloody Talbot's slain.

[Exeunt.

ACT V.
SCENE I. London. A Room in the Palace. Enter
KING HENRY, GLOSTER, and EXETER.

K. Hen. Have you perus'd the letters from the

pope,

The emperor, and the earl of Armagnac ?

Glo. I have, my lord; and their intent is this,
They humbly sue unto your excellence,
To have a godly peace concluded of,
Between the realms of England and of France.

K. Hen. How doth your grace affect their motion?
Glo. Well, my good lord; and as the only means
To stop effusion of our Christian blood,
And 'stablish quietness on every side.

As-liking of the lady's virtuous gifts,
Her beauty, and the value of her dower,-
He doth intend she shall be England's queen.

K. Hen. In argument and proof of which contract, Bear her this jewel, [To the Amb.} pledge of my affection.

And so, my lord protector, see them guarded,
And safely brought to Dover; where, inshipp'd,
Commit them to the fortune of the sea.

[Exeunt KING HENRY and Train; GLOSTER,
EXETER, and Ambassadors.
Win. Stay, my lord legate; you shall first receiv
The sum of money, which I promised
Should be deliver'd to his holiness

For clothing me in these grave ornaments

Leg. I will attend upon your lordship's leisure,
Win. Now, Winchester will not submit, I trow,
Or be inferior to the proudest peer.
Humphrey of Gloster, thou shalt well perceive.
That, neither in birth, or for authority,
The bishop will be overborne by thee:
I'll either make thee stoop, and bend thy knee,
Or sack this country with a mutiny. [Exeunt.
SCENE II. France. Plains in Anjou. Enter
CHARLES, BURGUNDY, ALENÇON, LA PU-
CELLE, and Forces, marching.

Char. These news, my lords, may cheer our
drooping spirits:

'Tis said, the stout Parisians do revolt,
And turn again unto the warlike French.
Alen. Then march to Paris, royal Charles of
France,

K. Hen. Ay, marry, uncle; for I always thought, And keep not back your powers in dalliance.

It was both impious and unnatural,

That such immanity3 and bloody strife
Should reign among professors of one faith.

Glo. Beside, my lord-the sooner to effect,

And surer bind, this knot of amity,

The earl of Armagnac-near knit to Charles,
A man of great authority in France,—
Proffers his only daughter to your grace

In marriage, with a large and sumptuous dowry.
K. Hen. Marriage, uncle! alas! my years are
young;4

And fitter is my study and my books,
Than wanton dalliance with a paramour.
Yet, call the ambassadors; and, as you please,
So let them have their answers every one:
I shall be well content with any choice,
Tends to God's glory, and my country's weal.
Enter a Legate, and Two Ambassadors, with WIN-
CHESTER, in a Cardinal's Habit.

Ere. What! is my lord of Winchester install'd,
And call'd unto a cardinal's degree!"
Then, I perceive, that will be verified,

Henry the Fifth did sometime prophesy,-

If once he come to be a cardinal,

He'll make his cap co-equal with the crown.

Have been consider'd and debated on.

Puc. Peace be amongst them, if they turn to us; Else, ruin combat with their palaces!

Enter a Messenger.

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 conjoin'd 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 ac-
curs'd:-

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

nate!

Char. Then on, my lords; And France be fortu [Exeunt. SCENE III. The same. Before Angiers. Ala rums: Excursions. Enter LA PUCELLE. Puc. The regent conquers, and the Frenchmen fly.

K. Hen. My lords ambassadors, your several suits Now help, ye charming spells, and periapts ;

Your purpose is both good and reasonable:
And, therefore, are we certainly resolv'd
To draw conditions of a friendly peace;
Which, by my lord of Winchester, we mean
Shall be transported presently to France.
Glo. And for the proffer of my lord your
master,-

I have inform'd his highness so at large,

1 To amaze is to dismay, to throw into consternation. A citie amazed or astonied with feare. Urbs lymphata horroribus. Baret.

2 A word is wanting to complete the metre, which Hanmer thus supplied :—

But from their ashes, Dauphin, shall be rear'd.' 3 Immanity (immanitas, Lat.) outrageousness, cruelty, excess. Bunt. A belluine kind of immunity never raged so amongst men.' Howell's Letters, i. 15. 4 The king was, however, twenty-four years ok. 5 The poet has here forgot himself. In the first act Gloster says:

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 accustom'd diligence to me.
Now, ye familiar spirits, that are cull'd

advancement. It appears that he would imply that Winchester obtained his hat only just before his present entry. He in fact obtained it in the fifth year of Henry's reign.

6 Periapts were certain written charms worn about the person as preservatives from disease and danger. of these the first chapter of St. John's Gospel was deemed the most efficacious. See Scot's Discovery of Witcheraft, 1584, p. 213, &c.

7 The monarch of the north was Zimimar, one of the four principal devils invoked by witches. The north I'll canvas thee in thy broad cardinal's hat.' was supposed to be the particular habitation of bad And it is strange that Exeter should not know of his spirits. Milton assembles the rebel angels in the north

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.

Fain would I woo her, yet I dare not speak:
I'll call for pen and ink, and write my mind:
Fye, 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. Suy, earl of Suffolk,-if thy name be so,-
What ransom must I pay before I pass ?
For, I perceive, I am thy prisoner.

Suff. 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 must
I pay?

Suff. She's beautiful; and therefore to be woo'd: She is a woman; therefore to be won. [Aside. Mar. Wilt thou accept of ransom, yea, or no? Suff. Fond man! remember, that thou hast a wife: Then how can Margaret be thy paramour? [Aside. Mar. I were best leave him, for he will not hear. Suff. There all is marr'd; there lies a cooling

care.a

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 vail3 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.
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
Why, for
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. 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.
Puc. A plaguing mischief light on Charles, and
And may ye both be suddenly surpris'd
By bloody hands, in sleeping on your beds!
York. Fell, banning hag? enchantress, hold thy

thee!

tongue.

Pur. I pr'ythee, give me leave to curse a while. Yak, Curse, miscreant, when thou comest to the [Exeunt.

stake.

Alarums. Enter SUFFOLK, leading in LADY

MARGARET.
Suff. 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,
And lay them gently on thy tender side.
I kiss these fingers [Kisses her hand.] for eternal

peace:

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.

Suff. 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.

1 Warburton thought that we should read legions here, the same mistake having occurred before in this play.

2 Where for whereas, a common substitution in old writers; whereas is also sometimes used for where. 3 To vail is to lower. See note on Merchant of Venice, Act i. Sc. 1.

4 To ban is to curse.

5 This comparison, made between things sufficiently unlike (Johnson observes,) is intended to express the softness and delicacy of Lady Margaret's beauty, which delighted, but did not dazzle: which was bright, but "ave no pain by its lustre.

Mar. He talks at random; sure, the man is mad.
Suff. And yet a dispensation may be had.
Mar. And yet I would that you would answer me.
Suff. I'll win this lady Margaret. For whom?
my king: Tush! that's a wooden thing.❞
Mar. He talks of wood: It is some carpenter.
Suff. Yet so my fancy10 may be satisfied,
And established between these realms.
peace
But there remains a scruple in that too;
For though her father be the king of Naples,
And our nobility will scorn the match."
Duke of Anjou and Maine, yet he is poor,

[Aside.
Mar. Hear ye, captain? Are you not at leisure?
Henry is youthful, and will quickly yield.—
Suff. It shall be so, disdain they ne'er so much:
Madam, I have a secret to reveal.

Mar. What though I be enthrall'd? he seems a
And will not any way dishonour me.
knight,

[Aside. Suff. Lady, vouchsafe to listen what I say. And then I need not crave his courtesy. Mar. Perhaps, I shall be rescu'd by the French: [Aside.

Suff. Sweet madam, give me hearing in a cause— Mar. Tush: women have been captivate ere now. [Aside.

quo.

Suff. Lady, wherefore talk you so?
Mar. I cry you mercy, 'tis but quid for
Suff. 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.

Suff

And so shall you,
If happy England's royal king be free.

Mar. Why, what concerns his freedom unto me?
Suff. 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.

Suff. His love.

What?

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.

6 Do not represent thyself so weak. To disable was to dispraise, or impeach.

7 The meaning of rough here is not very evident. Sir Thomas Hanmer reads crouch.

8 A cooling card was most probably a card so deci sive as to cool the courage of the adversary. Meta phorically, something to damp or overwhelm the hopes of an expectant.

9 i. e. an awkward business, an undertaking not likely to succeed. 'It is sport to see a bold fellow out of countenance, for that puts his face into a most shrunken and pooden posture.'

10 i. e. love.

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, 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?

Reig. Since thou dost deign to woo her little
worth,

To be the princely bride of such a lord;
Upon condition 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:
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.

[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. Suff. Farewell, sweet madam! But hark you, Margaret;

No princely commendation to my king?

Mr Such commendations as become a maid, A virgi nd his servant, say to him. Suff. W sweetly plac'd and modestly directed. But madam, 1 most 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 peevish2 tokens to a king. [Exeunt REIGNIER and MARGARET. Suff. O, wert thou for myself!-But, Suffolk, stay;

1 To face is to carry a false appearance, to play the hypocrite. Hence the name of one of Ben Jonson's characters in The Alchymist.

2 e. silly, foolish.

3 Mad has been shown by Steevens to have been oc casionally used for wild, in which sense we must take it here; if we do not, with others, suspect it an error of the press for And or Her.

Thou may'st not wander in that labyrinth;
There Minotaurs, and ugly treasons, lurk.
Solicit Henry with her wondrous praise:
Bethink 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. 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 kill 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!
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, '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.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 you whom you have condemn'd;

Not one begotten of a shepherd swain
But issu'd 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,
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;
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 fagots, let there be enough:

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The Dramatic Works and Poems, Volume 2