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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 thy self:
Halt not a tongue ? is she not here thy prisľner ?
Wilt thou be daunted at a woman's fight?
Ay; beauty's princely Majesty is such,
Confounds the tongue, and makes the senses rough.
Mar. Say, Earl of Suffolk, if thy name be fo,
What ransom must I pay before I pass o
For, I perceive, I am thy prisoner.
Suf. How canst thou tell, she will deny thy suit,
Before thou make a tryal of her love?
[ Afde: Mar. Why speak'it thou not? what ransom muft I pay!
Suf. She's beautiful; and therefore to be. wooed!
She is a woman, therefore, to be won.
Mar. Wilt thou accept of ransom, yea, or no ?
Suf. Fond man! remember, that thou haft a wife;
Then how can Margaret be thy paramour ? (Alide
Mar. 'Twere best to leave him, for he will not hear.
Suf. There all is marr'd; 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: Tuh, that's a wooden thing.
Mar. He talks of wood: it is some carpenter.
Suf. Yet so my fancy may be fatisfy'd,
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 Main, yet he is poor;
And our Nobility will scorn the match. [Afide,
Mar. Hear ye me, Captain ? are ye 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 tho'l be inthrall’d, he seems a Knight,
And will not any way dishonour me.
[Ande. Suf. Lady, vouchsafe to listen what I say.
Mar. Perhaps I shall be rescu'd by the French;
And then I need not crave his courtefie. [Afide.
Suf. Sweet Madam, give me hearing in a cause.
Mar. Tush, women have been captivate ere now.
[ Afide. 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 Scepter in thy hand,
And set a precious Crown upon thy head,
If thou wilt condescend to be my
Suf. His love,
Mar. I am unworthy to be Henry's wife.
Suf. No, gentle Madam ; I unworthy am
To woo fo fair a dame to be his wife ;
And have no portion in the choice my self.
How fay 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.
Sound. 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,
Grace unto my
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 fain.
Reig. Upon thy princely Warrant I descend;
To give thee answer of thy just demand.
Suf. And here I will expect thy Coming.
Trumpets found. Enter Reignier.
Reig. Welcome, brave Earl, into our territories ;
Command in Anjou, what your Honour pleases.
Suf. Thanks, Reignier, happy in so sweet a child,
Fit to be made companion of a King:
What answer makes
Reig. Since thou doft deign to woo her little worth,
To be the Princely bride of such a lord;
Upon condition I may quietly
Enjoy mine own, the country 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 traffick of a King.
And yet, methinks, I could be well content
To be mine own Attorney in this case. [Afide.
I'll over then to England with this News,
And make this marriage to be folemniz'd:
So farewel, 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. Farewel, my lord: good wishes, praise and pray'rs Shall Suffolk ever have of Margaret.
[She is going Suf. Farewel, sweet Madam; hark you, Margaret; No princely commendations to my King ?
Mar. Such commendations as become a maid,
A virgin and his fervant, 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.
[Kifes her. Mar. That for thy self- I will not so presume, To send fuch peevith tokens to a King.
Suf. O, wert thou for my self !-- but, Suffolk, ftay; Thou may'st not wander in that labyrinth; There Minotaurs, and ugly treasons, lurk. Sollicit Henry with her wond'rous praise, Bethink thee on her virtues that surmount, Her nat'ral graces that extinguish art; Repeat their semblance often on the seas; That, when thou com'ít to kneel at Henry's feet, Thou may'st bereave him of his wits with wonder. [Exki
Enter York, Warwick, a soepherd, and Pucelle. York. Bring forth that forceress, condemn’d to burn.
Shep. Ah, Foan! This kills thy father's heart outright.
Have I fought ev'ry 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, I will die with thee.
Pucel. 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 fo;
I did beget her, all the parish knows :
Her mother, living yet, can testify,
She was the first-fruit of my batch’lorship.
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 fake have I shed many a tear ;
Deny me not, I pray thee, gentle Joan.
Pucel. 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’dft her breast,
Had been a little ratsbane for thy fake:
Or else, when thou didft keep my lambs a-field,
I wish fome rav'nous wolf had eaten thee.
Dost thou deny thy father, cursed drab?
O, burn her, burn her; hanging is too good. [Exia
York. Take her away, for the hath liv'd too long,
To fill the world with vitious qualities.
Pucel. First, let me tell you, whom you have con.
Not me begotten of a shepherd swain,
But iffu'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 lufts,
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,
Chafte and immaculate in
Whose maiden blood, thus rig'rously effus’d,