Pucelle

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 and 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, and speak not.

O, hold me not with silence overlong!

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-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.Excursions. Re-enter LA PUCELLE fighting hand to hand with YORK: 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!

Pucelle

Changed 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.

Pucelle

A plaguing mischief light on Charles and thee!

And may ye both be suddenly surprised

By bloody hands, in sleeping on your beds!

York

Fell banning hag, enchantress, hold thy tongue!

Pucelle

I prithee, give me leave to curse awhile.

York

Curse, miscreant, when thou comest to the stake. Exeunt.Alarum. Enter SUFFOLK, with MARGARET in his hand.

Suffolk

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;

I kiss these fingers for eternal peace,

And lay them gently on thy tender side.

Who art thou? say, that I may honour thee.

Margaret

Margaret my name, and daughter to a king,

The king of Naples, whosoe'er thou art.

Suffolk

An earl I am, 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 prisoner underneath her wings.

Yet, if this servile usage once offend,

Go and be free again as Suffolk's friend. She is 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 Pole! disable not thyself;

Hast not a tongue? is she not here?

Wilt thou be daunted at a woman's sight?

Ay, beauty's princely majesty is such,

Confounds the tongue and makes the senses rough.

Margaret

Say, Earl of Suffolk — if thy name be so —

What ransom must I pay before I pass?

For I perceive I am thy prisoner.

Suffolk

How canst thou tell she will deny thy suit,

Before thou make a trial of her love?

Margaret

Why speak'st thou not? what ransom must I pay?

Suffolk

She's beautiful and therefore to be wooed;

She is a woman, therefore to be won.

Margaret

Wilt thou accept of ransom? yea, or no.

Suffolk

Fond man, remember that thou hast a wife;

Then how can Margaret be thy paramour?

Margaret

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

Suffolk

There all is marred; there lies a cooling card.

Margaret

He talks at random; sure, the man is mad.

Suffolk

And yet a dispensation may be had.

Margaret

And yet I would that you would answer me.

Suffolk

I'll win this Lady Margaret. For whom?

Why, for my king: tush, that's a wooden thing!

Margaret

He talks of wood: it is some carpenter.

Suffolk

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.

Margaret

Hear ye, captain, are you not at leisure?

Suffolk

It shall be so, disdain they ne'er so much:

Henry is youthful and will quickly yield.

Madam, I have a secret to reveal.

Margaret

What though I be enthralled? he seems a knight,

And will not any way dishonour me.

Suffolk

Lady, vouchsafe to listen what I say.

Margaret

Perhaps I shall be rescued by the French;

And then I need not crave his courtesy.

Suffolk

Sweet madam, give me hearing in a cause —

Margaret

Tush, women have been captivate ere now.

Suffolk

Lady, wherefore talk you so?

Margaret

I cry you, mercy, 'tis but Quid for Quo.

Suffolk

Say, gentle princess, would you not suppose

Your bondage happy to be made a queen?

Margaret

To be a queen in bondage is more vile

Than is a slave in base servility;

For princes should be free.

Suffolk

And so shall you,

If happy England's royal king be free.

Margaret

Why, what concerns his freedom unto me?

Suffolk

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 —

Margaret

What?

Suffolk

His love.

Margaret

I am unworthy to be Henry's wife.

Suffolk

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 ye so content?

Margaret

An if my father please, I am content.

Suffolk

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. A parley sounded. Enter REIGNIER on the walls.

See, Reignier, see, thy daughter prisoner!

Reigner

To whom?

Suffolk

To me.

Reigner

Suffolk, what remedy?

I am a soldier and unapt to weep

Or to exclaim on fortune's fickleness.

Suffolk

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.

Reigner

Speaks Suffolk as he thinks?

Suffolk

Fair Margaret knows

That Suffolk doth not flatter, face, or feign.

Reigner

Upon thy princely warrant, I descend

To give thee answer of thy just demand. Exit from the walls.

Suffolk

And here I will expect thy coming. Trumpets sound. Enter REIGNIER, below.

Reigner

Welcome, brave earl, into our territories:

Command in Anjou what your honour pleases.

Suffolk

Thanks, Reignier, happy for so sweet a child,

Fit to be made companion with a king:

What answer makes your grace unto my suit?

Reigner

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 country Maine and Anjou,

Free from oppression or the stroke of war,

My daughter shall be Henry's, if he please.

Suffolk

That is her ransom; I deliver her;

And those two counties I will undertake

Your grace shall well and quietly enjoy.

Reigner

And I again, in Henry's royal name,

As deputy unto that gracious king,

Give thee her hand, for sign of plighted faith.

Suffolk

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 solemnized.

So farewell, Reignier: set this diamond safe

In golden palaces, as it becomes.

Reigner

I do embrace thee, as I would embrace

The Christian prince, King Henry, were he here.

Margaret

Farewell, my lord: good wishes, praise and prayers

Shall Suffolk ever have of Margaret. Going.

Suffolk

Farewell, sweet madam: but hark you, Margaret;

No princely commendations to my king?

Margaret

Such commendations as becomes a maid,

A virgin and his servant, say to him.

Suffolk

Words sweetly placed and modestly directed.

But, madam, I must trouble you again;

No loving token to his majesty?

Margaret

Yes, my good lord, a pure unspotted heart,

Never yet taint with love, I send the king.

Suffolk

And this withal. Kisses her.

Margaret

That for thyself: I will not so presume

To send such peevish tokens to a king. Exeunt Reignier and Margaret.

Suffolk

O, wert thou for myself! But, Suffolk, stay;

Thou mayst not wander in that labyrinth;

There Minotaurs and ugly treasons lurk.

Solicit Henry with her wondrous praise:

Bethink thee on her virtues that surmount,

And natural graces that extinguish art;

Repeat their semblance often on the seas,

That when thou comest to kneel at Henry's feet,

Thou mayst bereave him of his wits with wonder. Exit.