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. ^note [Thunder.
You speedy helpers, that are substitutes

Under the lordly monarch of the north, ^note
Appear and aid me in this enterprise. Enter Fiends.
This speedy and quick ^note appearance argues proof
Of your accustom'd diligence to me.
Now, ye familiar spirits, that are cull'd ^note
Out of the powerful regions ^note under earth,
Help me this once, that France may get the field. [They walk, and speak not.
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 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 ^note her lofty-plumed ^note 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 ^note 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 ^note liberty.
A goodly prize, fit for the devil's grace!
See, how the ugly wench 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 surprised
By bloody hands, in sleeping on your beds!

York.
Fell banning hag, enchantress, hold thy tongue!

Puc.
I prithee, give me leave to curse awhile.

York.
Curse, miscreant, when thou comest ^note to the stake. [Exeunt. ^noteAlarum. Enter Suffolk, with Margaret in his hand.

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 ^note hands;
I kiss these fingers for eternal peace,
And lay them gently on thy tender side. ^note
Who art thou? say, ^note that I may honour thee.

Mar.
Margaret my name, and daughter to a king,
The King of Naples, whosoe'er thou art.

Suf.
An ^note 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 ^note save,
Keeping them prisoner ^note underneath her wings ^note.
Yet, if this servile usage once offend,

Go and be free again as Suffolk's friend. [She is going. ^note
O, stay! I have no power to let her pass ^note;
My hand would free her, but my heart says no.
As plays the sun upon the glassy streams ^note,
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? ^note is she not here? ^note
Wilt thou be daunted at a woman's sight?
Ay, ^note beauty's princely majesty is such,
Confounds ^note the tongue and makes the senses rough ^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. ^note

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

Mar.
Why speak'st thou not? what ransom must I pay ^note?

Suf.
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.

Suf.
Fond man, remember that thou hast a wife;
Then how can Margaret be thy paramour?

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

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

Mar.
He talks at random ^note; 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: tush, that's a wooden thing!

Mar.
He talks of wood: it is some carpenter. ^note

Suf.
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 ^note poor,
And our nobility will scorn the match.

Mar.
Hear ye ^note, captain, are you ^note 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.

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.

Suf.
Sweet madam, give me hearing in a cause— ^note

Mar.
Tush, women have been captivate ere now.

Suf.
Lady ^note, wherefore talk you so?

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

Suf.
Say, gentle princess, would you not suppose ^note
Your bondage happy, to be made a queen?

Mar.
To be a queen in bondage is more vile ^note
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 ^note.

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— ^note

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 ^note.
How say you, madam, are ye ^note so content?

Mar.
An if ^note my father please, I am content ^note. ^note

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. A parley sounded. ^note Enter ^note Reignier on the walls. ^note
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,
Thy daughter shall be wedded to my king;
Whom I with pain have woo'd and won thereto;
And this her easy-held ^note 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 feign ^note.

Reig.
Upon thy princely warrant, I descend
To give thee answer of thy just demand. [Exit ^note from the walls.

Suf.
And here I will expect thy coming ^note. Trumpets sound. Enter Reignier, below. ^note

Reig.
Welcome, brave earl, into our territories:
Command in Anjou what your honour pleases.

Suf.
Thanks, Reignier, happy for ^note so sweet a child,
Fit to be made companion with ^note 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 country ^note 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 ^note 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 traffic of a king. ^note [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 ^note
The Christian prince, King Henry, were he here.

Mar.
Farewell, my lord: good wishes, praise and prayers
Shall Suffolk ever have of Margaret. [Going. ^{note note}

Suf.
Farewell, sweet madam: but ^note hark you, Margaret;
No princely commendations to my king?

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

Suf.
Words sweetly placed and modestly ^note 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. ^note

Mar. ^note
That for thyself: I will not so presume
To send such peevish tokens to a king. [Exeunt ^note Reignier and Margaret.

Suf.
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 ^note 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. ^note

^note

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