Our nation's terror, and their bloody scourge!
The period of thy tyranny approacheth.
On us thou canst not enter, but by death:
For, I protest, we are well fortified,
And strong enough to issue out and fight:
If thou retire, the Dauphin, well appointed,
Stands with the snares of war to tangle thee:
On either hand thee there are squadrons pitch'd,
To wall thee from the liberty of flight:

And no way canst thou turn thee for redress,
But death doth front thee with apparent spoil,
And pale destruction meets thee in the face.
Ten thousand French have ta'en the sacrament,
To rive their dangerous artillery
Upon no christian soul but English Talbot.

Lo! there thou stand'st, a breathing valiant man,
Of an invincible unconquer'd spirit:
This is the latest glory of thy praise,

That I, thy enemy, due thee withal;
For ere the glass, that now begins to run,
Finish the process of his sandy hour,
These eyes, that see thee now well coloured,
Shall see thee wither'd, bloody, pale, and dead.
[Drum afar off.
Hark! hark! The Dauphin's drum, a warning bell,
Sings heavy music to thy timorous soul;
Aud mine shall ring thy dire departure out.

This seven years did not Talbot see his son; And now they meet where both their lives are done..

York. Alas! what joy shall noble 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 Somerset, and his delay.

[Exit.

[Exeunt General, &c. from the Walls.
Tal. He fabies not, I hear the enemy;-
Out, some light horsemen, and peruse their
O, negligent and heedless discipline

How are we park'd, and bounded in a pale;
A little herd of England's timorous deer,
Mazed with a yelping kennel of French curs!
It we be English deer, be then in blood +
Not rascal-like to fall down with a pinch;
But rather moody-mad, and desperate stags,
Turn on the bloody hounds with heads of steel,
And make the cowards stand aloof at bay:
Sell every man his life as dear as mine,
And they shall find dear deer of us, my friends.-
God, and Saint George! Talbot, and England's right!
Prosper our colours in this dangerous fight! [Exeunt.

SCENE III-Plains in Gascony.

Enter YORK, with Forces; to him a MESSENGER. York. Are not the speedy scouts return'd again, That dogg'd the mighty army of the Dauphin? Mess. They are return'd, my lord; and give it out, That he is march'd to Bourdeaux with his power, To fight with Talbot: as he march'd along, By your espials were discovered

Two mightier troops than that the Dauphin led; Which join'd with him, and made their march for

Bourdeaux.

York. A plague upon that villain Somerset ;
That thus delays my promised supply

Of horsemen, that were levied for this siege !
Renowned Talbot doth expect my aid;
And I am lowted 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, while remiss traitors sleep.

Lucy. O send some succour to the distressed lord! York. He dies, 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 et in travel towards his warlike father!

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!

Lucy. Whither, my lord? From bought and sold lord Talbott;

Who, ring'd about with bold adversity,
Cries out for noble Yurk 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 hopes, the trust of England's honour,
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,
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 exclaims; 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, betray'd to fortune by your strife.
Som. Come, go; I will dispatch 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 [Exeunt.

you.

SCENE V.-The English Camp near Bourdeaux, 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 revived, When sapless age, and weak unable limbs, Should bring thy father to his drooping chair. But,-O malignant and ill-boding stars!—

• Expended, consumed.

Alluding to the tale of Prometheus.

ti. e. From one utterly ruined by the treacher. ous practices of others.

Now thon 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 йy? 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. Shail all thy mother's hopes lie in one

tomb?

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 1'; For live I will not, if my father die.

such

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 TALEOT'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 rescued thee from death.
John. O twice my father! Twice am I thy son:
The life, thou gavest me first, was lost and done;
Till with thy warlike sword, despite of fate,
To my determined time thou gavest 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-faced victory. Then leaden age,
Quicken'd with youthful spleen, and warlike rage,
Beat down Alençon, Orleans, Burgundy,
And from the pride of Gallia rescued 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 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 shortening 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 saved, if thou wilt fly away.

John. The sword of Orieans hath not made mé

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,
And 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 proved, let's die in pride.

[Exeunt.

SCENE VII.-Another Part of the same. Alarums: 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! Young Talbot's valour makes me smile at thee :Triumphant death, smear'd with captivity! When he perceived 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 Tendering my ruint, and assail'd of none, Dizzy-eyed fury, and great rage of heart, Suddenly made him from my side to start Into the clustering 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 Talbots, winged through the lither sky,
In thy despite, shall 'scape mortality.-

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 today.

Come, come, and lay him in his father's arms;
Soldiers, adieu! I have what I would have,
My spirit can no longer bear these harms.
Now my old arms are young John Talbot's grave.

[Dies.

Alarums.-Exeunt SOLDIERS and SERVANT, leaving
the two Bodies.-Enter CHARLES, ALENÇON, BUR-
GUNDY, BASTARD, LA PUCELLE, and Forces.
Char. Had York and Somerset brought rescue in.
We should have found a bloody day of this.
Bast. How the young whelp of Talbot's, raging

wood ý,

Did flesh his puny sword in Frenchmen's blood!

Death stained and dishonoured with captivity + Watching me with tenderness in my fall. Flexible, yielding. 9 Raving mad.

filed

During the life, let us not wrong it dead.

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

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,

Lucy. Herald,

Conduct me to the Dauphin's tent; to know
Who hath obtain'd the glory of the day.

Char. On what submissive message art thon sent? Lucy. Submission, Dauphin? 'Tis a mere French word;

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

Char. For prisoners ask'st thou? Hell our prison

is.

But tell me whom thou seek'st.

Luc. 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, Waterford, and Valence ;
Lord Talbot of Goodrig and Urchinfield,
Lord Strange of Blackmere, lord Verdun of Alton,
Lord Cromwell of Wingfield, lord Furnival of
Sheffield,

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 bath,
Writes not so tedious a style as this.-
Him, that thou magnifiest with all these titles,
Stinking, and fly-blown, lies here at our feet.
Lucy. Is Talbot slain; the Frenchman's only

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 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 putrify the air.
Char. Go, take their bodies hence.
Lacy. I'll bear them hence:

But from their ashes shall be rear'd

A phoenix that shall make all France afcard.
Char. So we be rid of them, do with them what

SCENE 1.-London.-A Room in the Palace.
Enter King HENRY, GLOSTER, and EXETER.
K. Hen. Have you perused the letters from the
pope,

The emperor, and the earl of Armagnac ?

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 co-equal 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 resolved
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 proofs 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 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 droop-
ing spirits:

"Tis said, the stout Parisians do revolt,
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 aniongst 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 I

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;

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.

• Barbarity, savageness.

Char. Then on, my lords; and France be fortu nate! [Exit.

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 enterprize!

Enter FIENDS.

This speedy quick appearance argues proof
Of your accustom'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.

0, 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-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 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 man ;
No shape but his can please your dainty eye.
Puc. A plaguing mischief light on Charles, and
thee!

And may ye both be suddenly surprized
By bloody hands, in sleeping on your beds!
York. Fell, banning hag! Enchantress, hold thy
tongue.

Puc. I pr'ythee, give me leave to curse awhile. York. Curse, miscreant, when thou comest to [Exeunt. Alarums.-Enter SUFFOLK, leading in Lady MAR

the stake.

GARET.

Suf. 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 [Kissing 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.

Suf. 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

• Charms made up. The north was supposed to be the particular habitation of bad spirits. t Lower. To ban is to curse.

I pay?

Suf. She's beautiful; and therefore to be woo'd: She is a woman: therefore to be won. [Aside. Mar. Wilt thon accept of ransome, yea, or no? Suf. 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. Suf. There all is marr'd; there lies a cooling card. Mur. 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. Suy. I'll win this lady Margaret. For whom? Why, for my king: Tush! that's a wooden thing t. Mar. He talks of wood: it is some carpenter. Suf. Yet so my fancy t 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 enthrall'd? He seems a knight,

And will not any way dishonour me. [Aside.
Suf. Lady, vouchsafe to listen what I say.
Mar. Perhaps, I shall be rescued by the French;
And then I need not crave his courtesy. [Aside.
Suf. Sweet madam, give me hearing in a cause-
Mar. Tush! women have been captivate ere
[Aside.

now.

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 sceptre in thy hand,
And set a precious crown upon thy head,
If thou wilt condescend to be my-
Mar. What?

Suf. His love.

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.
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, Regnier, 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,)
Thy daughter shall be wedded to my king;

• Do not represent thyself so weak.'

An awkward business, an undertaking not likely to succeed. tLove.

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 f
Suf. 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.
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,
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, it he please.

Suf. That is her rausome, 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 tradic 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.

Reig. I do embrace thee, as I would embrace The Christian prince, king Henry, were he here. Mur. Farewell, my lord! Good wishes, praise, and prayers,

Shall Suffolk ever have of Margaret. [Going. Suf. Farewell, sweet madam! But hark you, Margaret;

No princely commendations to my king?

Mar. Such commendations as become a maid, A virgin, and his servant, say to him.

Suf. Words sweetly placed, and modestly di

rected.

But, madam, I must trouble you again,-
No lo ing 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.
[Kisses her.
Mar. That for thyself;-I will not so presume,
To send such peevisht 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 wond'rous praise:
Bethink thee on her virtues that surmount;
Mad, natural graces that extinguish art;
Repeat their semblance often on the seas,

That, when thou commest 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

Durn.

Enter LA PUCELLE, guarded, and a SHEPHERD. Shep. Ah, Joan! this kills thy father's heart out right!

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.

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. Pie, 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 ratshane 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 lived 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 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,
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 effused,
Will cry for vengeance at the gates of heaven.

York. Ay, ay-Away with her to execution.
War. And hark ye, Širs; 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 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. York. Now heaven forefend! The holy maid with child?

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 deceived; my child is none of his; It was Alençon that enjoy'd my love. York. Alençon ! 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 named, 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 well,

There were so many, whom she may accuse.
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.

Puc. Then lead me hence;-with whom I leave my curse,

May never glorious san reflex his beams
Upon the country where you make abode !
But darkness and the gloomy shade of death
Environ you; till mischief, and despair,

not so;

I did beget her, all the parish knows:

Her mother liveth yet, can testify

She was the first-fruit of my bachelorship.

[Exit guarded. York. Break thou in pieces, and consume to ashes, Thou foul accursed minister of hell!

A corruption of obstinate.

'No, ye misconceivers, ye who mistake me and my qualities.'