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! [She performs certain Ceremonies. Thunder heard.

You speedy helpers, that are substitutes
Under the lordly monarch of the north,
Appear, and aid me in this enterprize. [Thunder again. Enter certain 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 sullenly about her.
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 recompence, 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. [Thunder; and 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 antient incantations are too weak,
And hell too strong for me to buckle with:—† ^note
Now, France, thy glory droopeth to the dust. [Exit. Other Alarums. Enter French and English, fighting; York and Pucelle heading them: French fly, leaving Pucelle.

Yor.
Damsel of France, I think I have you fast: [laying Hands on her.

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.

Yor.
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 surpriz'd
By bloody hands, in sleeping on your beds!

Yor.
Fell banning hag, enchantress, hold thy tongue.

Puc.
I pr'ythee give me leave to curse a while.

Yor.
Curse, miscreant, when thou comest to the stake. [Exeunt, with Pucelle. Other short Alarums. Enter Suffolk, bringing in Margaret.

Suf.
Be what thou wilt, thou art my prisoner. [gazes earnestly 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 cignets save,
Keeping them pris'ners underneath her wings.
Yet, if this servile usage once offend,
Go, and be free again, as Suffolk's friend. [she turns from him, 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 crouch* ^note.

Mar.
Say, earl of Suffolk,—if thy name be so,—
What ransom must I pay before I pass?
For, I perceive, I am thy prisoner.

&blquo;Suf.
&blquo;How canst thou tell, she will deny thy suit,
&blquo;Before thou make a trial of her love? [Aside.

&blquo;Mar.
&blquo;Why speak'st thou not? what ransom must I pay?

&blquo;Suf.
&blquo;She's beautiful; and therefore to be woo'd:
&blquo;She is a woman; therefore to be won. [Aside.

&blquo;Mar.
&blquo;Wilt thou accept of ransom, yea, or no?

&blquo;Suf.
&blquo;Fond man! remember that thou hast a wife;
&blquo;Then how can Margaret be thy paramour? [Aside.

&blquo;Mar.
&blquo;I were best leave him, for he will not hear.

&blquo;Suf.
&blquo;There all is marr'd; there lies a cooling card.

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

&blquo;Suf.
&blquo;And yet a dispensation may be had.

&blquo;Mar.
&blquo;And yet I would that you would answer me.

&blquo;Suf.
&blquo;I'll win this lady Margaret. For whom?
&blquo;Why, for my king: Tush! that's a wooden thing.

&blquo;Mar.
&blquo;He talks of wood; it is some carpenter.

&blquo;Suf.
&blquo;Yet, so my fancy may be satisfy'd,
&blquo;And peace established between these realms.
&blquo;But there remains a scruple in that too:
&blquo;For though her father be the king of Naples,
&blquo;Duke of Anjóu and Maine, yet he is poor,
&blquo;And our nobility will scorn the match. [Aside.

&blquo;Mar.
&blquo;Hear ye me, captain; are you not at leisure?

&blquo;Suf.
&blquo;It shall be so, disdain they ne'er so much:
&blquo;Henry is youthful, and will quickly yield.—
&blquo;Madam, I have a secret to reveal.

&blquo;Mar.
&blquo;What though I be enthral'd? he seems a knight,
&blquo;And will not any way dishonour me. [Aside.

&blquo;Suf.
&blquo;Lady, vouchsafe to listen what I say.

&blquo;Mar.
&blquo;Perhaps, I shall be rescu'd by the French;
&blquo;And then I need not crave his courtesy. [Aside.

&blquo;Suf.
&blquo;Sweet madam, give me hearing in a cause—

&blquo;Mar.
&blquo;Tush! women have been captivate ere now. [Aside.

&blquo;Suf.
&blquo;Nay, hear me, lady; wherefore talk you so?

&blquo;Mar.
&blquo;I cry you mercy, 'tis but quid for quo* ^note.

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—

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;— [to his Troops; who come forward.
And, madam, at your father's castle walls
We'll crave a parley, to confer with him.— Trumpet sounds a Parley: Is answered from within; and Enter Reignier, upon the Walls.
See, Reignier, see, thy daughter prisoner.

Rei.
To whom?

Suf.
To me.

Rei.
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;
Whom I with pain have woo'd and won thereto;
And this her easy-held imprisonment
Hath gain'd thy daughter princely liberty.

Rei.
Speaks Suffolk as he thinks?

Suf.
Fair Margaret knows,
That Suffolk doth not flatter, face, or feign.

Rei.
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, Reignier. Trumpets. Enter Reignier, below.

Rei.
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?

Rei.
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 countries 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 countries, I will undertake,
Your grace shall well and quietly enjoy.

Rei.
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 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, farewel, Reignier! Set this diamond safe:
In golden palaces, as it becomes.

Rei.
I do embrace thee, as I would embrace
The christian prince, king Henry, were he here.

Mar.
Farewel, my lord! good wishes, praise, and prayers,
Shall Suffolk ever have of Margaret. [going.

Suf.
Farewel, sweet madam! But hark you, Margaret; [calling her back.
No princely commendations to my king?

Mar.
Such commendations as becomes a maid,
A virgin, and his servant, 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. [kisses her.

Mar.
That for thyself; I will not so presume,
To send such peevish 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.
Sollicit Henry with her wond'rous praise:
Bethink thee on her virtues that surmount,
And 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.

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