Renowned Talbot doth expect my aid; And I am louted by a traitor villain, And cannot help the noble chevalier: God comfort him in this necessity!

If he miscarry, farewell wars in France.

Enter Sir William Lucy.

Lucy. Thou princely leader of our English strength,
Never so needful on the earth of France,
Spur to the rescue of the noble Talbot;
Who now is girdled with a waist of iron,
And hemm'd about with grim destruction:

To Bourdeaux, warlike duke! to Bourdeaux, York!
Else, farewell Talbot, France and England's honour.
York. O God! that Somerset-who in proud heart
Doth stop my cornets were in Talbot's place!
So should we save a valiant gentleman,
By forfeiting a traitor and a coward.

Mad ire, and wrathful fury, makes me weep,
That thus we die, white remiss traitors sleep.

Lucy. O, send some succour to the distress'd lord ! York. Hedies, we lose; I break my warlike word: We mourn, France smiles; we lose, they daily get; All 'long of this vile traitor Somerset.

Lucy. Then, God take mercy on brave Talbot's soul! And on his son, young John; whom, two hours since,

I met in travel toward his warlike father!

This seven years did not Talbot see his son;
And now they meet where both their lives are done.
York. Alas! what joy shall nobie Talbot have,

To bid his young son welcome to his grave?
Away! vexation almost stops my breath,
That sunder'd friends greet in the hour of death.-
Lucy, farewell, no more my fortune can,
But curse the cause, I cannot aid the man.-
Maine, Blois, Poictiers, and Tours, are won away,
'Long all of of Somerset and his delay.

[Exit.

Lucy. Thus, while the vulture of sedition Feeds in the bosom of such great commanders,

Sleeping neglection doth betray to loss

The conquest of our scarce-cold conqueror,
That ever-living anan of memory,

Henry the fifth-Whiles they each other cross,
Lives, honours, lands, and all, hurry to loss. [Exit.

SCENE IV. Other Plains of Gascony. Enter Somerset, with his Forces; an Officer of Talbot's with him.

Som. It is too late; I cannot send them now: This expedition was by York, and Talbot, Too rashly plotted; all our general force Might with a sally of the very town Be buckled with the over-daring Talbot Hath sullied all his gloss of former honour, By this unheedful, desperate, wild adventure: York set him on to fight, and die in shame, That, Talbot dead, great York might bear the name. Off. Here is sir William Lucy, who with me Set from our o'er-match'd forces forth for aid.

Enter Sir William Lucy.

Som. How now, sir William? whither were you sent? [lord Talbot; Lucy. Whither, my lord? from bought and sold Who, ring'd about with bold adversity, Cries out for noble York and Somerset, To beat assailing death from his weak legions. 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 false hopes, the trust of England's ho Keep off aloof with worthless emulation. 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, Alencon, Reignier, compass him about, And Talbot perisheth by your default.

honour,

[aid.

Som. York set him on, York should have sent him Lucy. And York as fast upon your grace exclaims; Swearing, that you withhold his levied host, Collected for this expedition.

[horse:

Som. York lies; he might have sent, and had the 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, betray'd to fortune by your strife.

Som. Come, go; I will despatch the horsemen Within six hours they will be at his aid. [straight:

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, be gone.

John. Is my name Talbot? and am I your son?
And shall I ily 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 preserved with infamy.

Tal. Shall all thy mother's hopes lie in one tomb?
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
[stain.
Tal. Thy father's charge shall clear thee from that
John. You cannot witness for me, being slain.
If death be so apparent, then both fly.

abuse it ?

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 fly.

[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 7-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 Alencon, 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, 1 quickly shed
Some of his bastard blood; and, in disgrace,

in strong re

stroy,

care;

Came in strong rescue. Speak, thy father's
Art not thou 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,
My death's revenge, thy youth, and England's fame:
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

smart,

These words of yours draw life-blood from my heart:
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 like 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, hy, I am not Taibot's son:

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

Tal. Then foliow thou thy desperate sire of Crete,
Thou Icarus; thy life to me is sweet:
If thou wilt fight, fight by thy father's side;
Aud, 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 elust'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,
Two vo Talbots, wing nged through the ther sky,
In thy despite, shall 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.

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 pri
But tell me whom thou seek'st.

prisoners ask'st thou? hell our prison is,

Lucy. Where is the great Alcides of the field, Valiant lord Talbot, earl of Shrewsbury; Created, for his rare success in arms,

[field,

Great earl of Washford, Waterford, and Valence;
Lord Talbot of Goodrig and Urchinfield,
Lord Strange of Blackmere, lord Verdun of Alton,
Lord Cromwell of Wingfield, lord Furnival of Shef-
The thrice victorious lord of Falconbridge;
Knight of the noble order of saint George,
Worthy saint Michael, and the golden fleece;
Great mareshal to • Henry the sixth,
Of all his wars within the realm of France?
Puc. Here is a silly stately style, indeed!
The Turk, that two and fifty kingdoms hath,
Writes not so tedious a style as this.-
Him, that thon magnifiest with all these titles,
Stinking, and fly-blown, lies here at our feet.
Lucy. Is Talbot slain; the Frenchmen's only

sixth,

scourge, Your kingdom's terror and black Nemesis? O, were mine eye-balls into bullets turn'd, That I, in rage, might shoot them at your faces! O, that I could but call these dead to life! It were enough to fright the realm of France: Were but his picture ture left among you here, It would amaze the proudest of you all. Give me their bodies; that I may bear them hence, And give them burial as beseems their worth.

Puc. 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'd

A phoenix that shall make all France afeard,

Char. So we be rid of them, do with them what thon And now to Paris, in this conquering vein; [wilt. 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.

K. Hen. Ay, marry, uncle; for I always thought, It was both impious and unnatural, That such immanity and bloody strife

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.

Exe. 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 coequal with the crown.

K. Hen. My lords ambassadors, your several suits Have been consider'd and debated on. 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, 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 receive The sum of money, which I promis'd 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, Alencon, La Pucelle, and Forces, marching.

Char. These news, my lords, may cheer our droop"Tis said, the stout Parisians do revolt, [ing spirits: And turn again unto the warlike French.

Alen. Then march to Paris, royal Charles of France, And keep not back your powers in dalliance.

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 Mess. The English army, that divided Into two parts, is now conjoin'd onjoin'd in one; And means to give you battle presently.

[speak. pr'ythee,

was

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

Char. Then on, my lords; and France be fortanate! [Exeunt.

SCENE HIL. The same. Before Angiers. Alarums: Excursions. Enter La Pucelle. Puc. The regent conquers, and the Frenchmen Now help, ye charming spells, and periapts; [fly.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 acenstom'd diligence to me.
Now, ye familiar spirits, that are cull'd
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!

[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.
Alarums. Enter French and English, fighting. La
Pucelle and York fight Hand to Hand. La Pu-
celle 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. Chang'd to a worser shape thou canst not be.
York.
a proper man;

eye.

O, Charles the dauphin dauphin is No shape but his can please y your dainty Рис. A plaguing mischief light on Charles, and And may ye both be suddenly surpris'd By bloody hands, in sleeping on your beds!

York.

[thee!

Fell, banning hag! enchantress, hold thy tongue.

Puc. I pr'ythee, give me leave to curse awhile. York. Curse, miscreant, when thou comest to the

stake.

[Exeunt.

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.
[peace:
Who art thou? say, that I may honour thee.
I kiss these tingers [Kissing her Hand] for eternal
The king of Naples, whosoe'er thou art.
Mar. Margaret my name; and daughter to a king,

Suff. 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 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 t
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

[Aside.

I pay ? Suff. She's beautiful; and therefore to be woo'd: She is a woman; therefore to be won. 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 card. 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? Why, for my king; Tush! that's a wooden thing. Mar. He talks of wood: It is some carpenter. Suff. Yet so my fancy may be satisfied,

And peace established between these realms. But there remains a scruple in that too:

Reig. I do embrace thee, as I would embrace The Christian prince, king Henry, were he here.

Wor though her father be the king of Naples, Duke of Anjou and Maine, yet is he poor,

Mar. Farewell, my lord; Good wishes, praise,

and prayers,

And our nobility will scorn the match.

[Aside.

Shall Suffolk ever have of Margaret.

[Going.

Mar. Hear ye, captain? Are you not at leisure ? Suff. It shall be so, disdain they ne'er so much:

Henry is youthful, and will quickly yield.Madam, I have a secret to reveal.

[knight,

Mar. What though I be enthrall'd? he seems a

And will not any way dishonour me.

Suff. Lady, vouchsafe to listen what I say.

[Aside.

Mar. Perhaps, I shall be rescu'd by the French; And then I need not crave his courtesy. [Aside. Suff. Sweet madam, give me hearing in a cause-Mar. Tush! women have been captivate ere now. [Aside.

Suff. Lady, wherefore talk you so?

Mar. I cry you mercy, 'tis but quid for quo. 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.

What?

Suff. His love.
Mar. I am unworthy to be Henry's wife.
Suff. 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.
Suff. The 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.

Suff. Farewell, sweet madam! But hark you, MarNo princely commendations to my king? [garet; Mar. Such commendations as become a maid,

A virgin, and his servant, say to him.

Suff. Words sweetly plac'd, and inodestly directed. But, madam, I must trouble you again,No loving token to his majesty?

Mar. Y Yes, es, my my good lord; a pure unspotted heart, Never yet taint with love, I send the king. Suff. And this withal. Mar. That for thyself; -I will not so presume, To send such peevish tokens to a king.

[Kisses her.

[Exeunt Reignier and Margaret.

Suff. 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; 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 mayst 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 outHave I sought every country far and near, [right! And, now it is my chance to find thee ont,

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
I did beget her, all the parish knows:
Her mother liveth yet, can testify

[so;

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 imprisonmeut

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, Reiguier, 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 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, i 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

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 afield, I wish some ravenous wolf had eaten thee! Dost thou deny thy father, cursed drab? 0, 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 con

[demn'd:

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,
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 ted 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 faggots, let there be enough:
Place barrels of pitch upon the fatal stake,

That so her torturs 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.

[child?

War. Now heaven forefend! the holy maid with 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 Alencon, that enjoy'd my love.

York. Alencon! 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 wam'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 There were so many, whom she may accuse. [well, 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.

[curse:

Puc. Then lead me hence; -with whom I leave my
May never glorious sun reflex his beams
Upon the country where you make abode!
But darkness and the gloomy shade of death
Environ you; till mischief, and despair,
Drive you to break your necks, or hang yourselves!
[Exit, guarded.
York. Break thou in pieces, and consume to ashes,
Thou foul accursed minister of hell!

Enter Cardinal Beaufort, attended.
Car. Lord regent, I do greet your excellence
With letters of commission from the king.
For know, my lords, the states of Christendom,
Mov'd with remorse of these outrageous broils,
Have earnestly implor'd a general peace
Betwixt our nation and the aspiring French;
And here at hand the dauphin, and his train,
Approacheth, to confer about some matter.

York. Is all our travail turn'd to this effect?
After the slaughter of so many peers,

So many captains, gentlemen, and soldiers,
That in this quarrel have been overthrown,
And sold their bodies for their country's benefit,
Shall we at last conclude effeminate peace ?
Have we not lost most part of all the towns,
By treason, falsehood, and by treachery,
Our great progenitors had conquered?-
O, Warwick, Warwick! I foresee with grief,
The utter loss of all the realm of France.

War. Be patient, York: if we conclude a peace, It shall be with such strict and severe covenants, As little shall the Frenchmen gain thereby.

Enter Charles, attended; Alencon, Bastard,
Reignier, and others.

Char. Since, lords of England, it is thus agreed, That peaceful truce shall be proclaim'd in France, We come to be informed by yourselves

What the conditions of that league must be.

That which I have, than, coveting for more, Be cast from possibility of all.

York. Insulting Charles! hast thou by secret means

Us'd intercession to obtain a league;

And, now the matter grows to compromise,
Stand'st thou aloof upon comparison?
Either accept the title thou usurp'st,
Of benefit proceeding from our king,
And not of any challenge of desert,
Or we will plague thee with incessant wars.
Reig. My Jord,
To cavil in the course of this contract:
you do not well in obstinacy
If once it be neglected, ten to one,
We shall not find like opportunity.

Alen. To say the truth, it is your policy,
To save your subjects from such massacre,
And ruthless slaughters, as are daily seen
By our proceeding in hostility:
And therefore take this compact of a truce,
Although you break it when your pleasure serves.
[Aside, to Charles.
War. How sayst thou, Charles? shall our condition
Char. It shall:
[stand?

Only reserv'd, you claim no interest
In any of our towns of garrison.
York. Then swear aliegiance to his majesty;
As thou art knight, never to disobey,
Nor be rebellious to the crown of England,
Thou, nor thy nobles, to the crown of England.

[Charles and the rest give Tokens of Fealty.

So now dismiss your army when ye please;
Hang up your ensigns, let your drums be still,
For here we entertain a solemn peace.

[Exeunt.

SCENE V. London. A Room in the Palace. Enter King Henry, in Conference with Suffolk; Gloster and Exeter following.

K. Hen. Your wondrous rare description, noble earl, Of beauteous Margaret, hath astonish'd me: Her virtues, graced with external gifts, Do breed love's settled passions in my heart: And like as rigour in tempestuous gusts Provokes the mightiest hulk against the tide; So am I driven, by breath of her renown, Either to suffer shipwreck, or arrive

Where I may have fruition of her love.

Suff. Tush! my good lord! this superficial tale
Is but a preface of her worthy praise:
The chief perfections of that lovely dame
(Had I sufficient skill to utter them),
Would make a volume of enticing lines,
Able to ravish any dull conceit.

And, which is more, she is not so divine,
So full replete with choice of all delights,
But, with as humble towliness of mind,
She is content to be at your command;
Command, I mean, of virtuous chaste intents,
To love and honour Henry as her lord.

K. Hen. And otherwise will Henry ne'er presume.
Therefore, my lord protector, give consent,
That Margaret may be England's nd's royal queen.
Glo. So should I give consent to flatter sin.
You know, my lord, your highness is betroth'd
Unto another lady of esteem;

How shall we then dispense with that contract,

By sight of these our baleful enemies.

Win. Charles, and the rest, it is enacted thus:
That-in regard king Henry gives consent,
Of mere compassion, and of lenity,
To ease your country of distressful war,

And suffer you to breathe in fruitful peace.-
You shall become true liegemen to his crown:
And, Charles, upon condition thou wilt swear
To pa pay him tribute, and submit thyself,
Thou shalt be plac'd as viceroy under him,
And still enjoy thy regal dignity.

Alen. Must he be then as shadow of himself?

Adorn his temples with a coronet;
And yet, in substance and authority,
Retain but privilege of a private man?
This proffer is absurd and reasonless.

Char. "Tis known already, that I am posses 'd
With more than half the Gallian territories,
And therein reverenc'd for their lawful king:
Shall I, for lucre of the rest unvanquish'd,
Detract so much from that prerogative,
As to be call'd but viceroy of the whole?
No, lord ambassador; I'll rather keep

Suff. As doth a ruler with unlawful oaths;
Or one, that, at a triumph having vow'd
To try his strength, forsaketh yet the lists
By reason of his adversary's odds:

A poor earl's daughter is unequal odds,
And therefore may be broke without offence.

Glo. Why, what, I pray, pray, is Margaret more than

Her er father is no better than an earl,
Although in glorious titles he excel.

[that!