Dau.
This News, my Lords, may cheer our drooping Spirits:
'Tis said, the stout Parisians do revolt,
And return again unto the warlike French.

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

Pucel.
Peace be amongst them, if they turn to us,
Else Ruin combat with their Palaces. Enter Scout.

Scout.
Success unto our valiant General,
And happiness to his Accomplices.

Dau.
What tidings send our Scouts? I prethee speak.

Scout.
The English Army, that divided was
Into two Parties, is now conjoin'd in one,
And means to give you Battel presently.

Dau.
Somewhat too sudden, Sirs, the warning is,
But we will presently provide for them.

Burg.
I trust the Ghost of Talbot is not there;
Now he is gone, my Lord, you need not fear.

Pucel.
Of all base Passions, Fear is most accurst.
Command the Conquest, Charles, it shall be thine:
Let Henry fret, and all the World repine.

Dau.
Then on, my Lords, and France be fortunate. [Exeunt. Alarm: Excursions. Enter Joan la Pucelle.

Pucel.
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 and 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 and speak not.
Oh 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,
Intreat 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. Pucelle and York fight Hand in Hand. 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.

Pucel.
Chang'd to a worser shape thou can'st not be.

York.
Oh, Charles the Dauphin is a proper Man,
No Shape but his can please your dainty Eye.

Pucel.
A plaguing mischief light on Charles and thee,
And may ye both be suddenly surpris'd
By bloody Hands, in sleeping on your Beds.

York.
Fell banning Hag, Inchantress, hold thy Tongue.

Pucel.
I prethee give me leave to curse a while.

York.
Curse, Miscreant, when thou comest to the Stake. [Exeunt. Alarm. Enter Suffolk with Margaret in his Hand.

Suf.
Be what thou wilt, thou art my Prisoner. [Gazes on her.
Oh fairest Beauty, do not fear, nor fly:
For I will touch thee but with reverend 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.

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 alotted to be ta'en by me:
So doth the Swan her downy Cignets save,
Keeping them Prisoners underneath her Wings:
Yet if this servile usage once offend,
Go, and be free again, as Suffolk's Friend. [She is going.
Oh 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 woe her, yet I dare not speak:
I'll call for Pen and Ink, and write my Mind:
Fie De la Pole, disable not thy self:

Hast not a Tongue? Is she not here thy Prisoner?
Wilt thou be daunted at a Woman's fight?
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?
For I perceive I am thy Prisoner.

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 Ranson must I pay?

Suf.
She's beautiful; and therefore to be wooed:
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 him, for he will not hear.

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

Mar.
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.

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.

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 Main, yet he is poor,
And our Nobility will scorn the Match.

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 tho' I be inthrall'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 rescu'd by the French,
And then I need not crave his courtesie.

Suf.
Sweet Madam, give me hearing in a cause.

Mar.
Tush, Women have been captivate e'er 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 Scepter in thy Hand,
And set a precious Crown upon thy Head,
If thou wilt condescend to 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 my self.
How say you, Madam, are you so content?

Mar.
And 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. Sound. Enter Reignier on the Walls.
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 easie held 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 fain.

Reig.
Upon thy Princely Warrant, I descend;
To give thee answer of thy just demand.

Suf.
And here I will expect thy coming. Trumpets sound. Enter Reignier.

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 daign to woo her little worth,
To be the Princely Bride of such a Lord:
Upon condition I may quietly
Enjoy mine own, the Country Main 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.

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 it is in Traffick of a King.
And yet methinks I could be well content
To be mine own Attorney in this case. [Aside.
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.

Reig.
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. [She is going.

Suf.
Farewel, 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 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 thy self—I will not so presume,
To send such peevish Tokens to a King.

Suf.
Oh wer't thou for my self—but Suffolk stay,
Thou mayest not wander in that Labyrinth,
There Minotaurs, and ugly Treasons lurk.
Sollicit Henry with her wondrous praise,
Bethink thee on her Virtues that surmount,
Made 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. [Exeunt. Enter York, Warwick, a Shepherd, and Pucelle.

York.
Bring forth that Sorceress condemn'd to burn.

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, I will die with thee.

Pucel.
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, and please you, 'tis not so,
I did beget her all the Parish knows:
Her Mother liveth yet, can testifie
She was the first Fruit of my Batch'lor-ship.

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.
Fie 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 pray thee, gentle Joan.

Pucel.
Peasant, avant. 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 Ratsbane for thy sake:
Or else, when thou didst keep thy Lambs afield,
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 liv'd too long,
To fill the World with vitious qualities.

Pucel.
First, let me tell you whom you have condemn'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 streight 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 Heav'n.

York.
Ay, ay; away with her to Execution.

War.
And heark ye, Sirs; because she is a Maid,
Spare for no Faggots, let there be enow:
Place Barrels of Pitch upon the fatal stake,
That so her torture may be shortned.

Pucel.
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:
Murther not then the Fruit within my Womb,
Although ye hale me to a violent Death.

Plan.
Now Heav'n forfend! the holy Maid with Child?

War.
The greatest Miracle that e'er you 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.

Pucel.
You are deceiv'd, my Child is none of his,
It was Alenson that enjoy'd my Love.

York.
Alenson, that notorious Matchevile!
It dies, and if it had a thousand Lives.

Pucel.
O give me leave, I have deluded you;
'Twas neither Charles, nor yet the Duke I nam'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 well
(There were so many) whom she may accuse.

War.
It's sign she had been liberal and free.

York.
And yet forsooth she is a Virgin pure.
Strumpet, thy words condemn thy Brat, and thee.
Use no intreaty, for it is in vain.

Pucel.
Then lead me hence; with whom I leave my curse.
May never glorious Sun reflex his Beams
Upon the Country where you make abode;
But darkness, and the gloomy shade of death
Inviron you, 'till Mischief and Despair
Drive you to break your Necks, or hang your selves. [Exit. Enter Cardinal.

York.
Break thou in pieces, and consume to Ashes,
Thou foul accursed Minister of Hell.

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 th' aspiring French;
And here at hand, the Dauphin and his Train
Approacheth, to confer about some matters.

York.
Is all our travel 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 Countries Benefit,
Shall we at last conclude effeminate Peace?

Have we not lost most part of all the Towns,
By Treason, Falshood, and by Treachery,
Our great Progenitors had conquered?
Oh 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, Alenson, Bastard, and Reignier.

Char.
Since, Lords of England, it is thus agreed,
That peaceful Truce shall be proclaim'd in France,
We come to be informed by your selves,
What the Conditions of that League must be.

York.
Speak, Winchester; for boiling Choler chokes
The hollow passage of my poison'd Voice,
By sight of these our baleful Enemies.

Win.
Charles, and the rest, it is enacted thus:
That in regard King Henry gives consent,
Of meer compassion, and of lenity,
To ease your Country of distressful War,
And suffer you to breath in fruitful Peace,
You shall become true Liegemen to his Crown.
And Charles, upon condition thou wilt swear
To pay him Tribute, and submit thy self,
Thou shalt be plac'd as Viceroy under him,
And still enjoy thy regal Dignity.

Alen.
Must he be then a 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 possest
Of more than half the Gallian Territories,
And therein reverenced for their lawful King.
Shall I for lucre of the rest un-vanquish'd,
Detract so much from that Prerogative,
As to be call'd but Viceroy of the whole?
No, Lord Ambassador, I'll rather keep
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 Lord, you do not well, in obstinacy
To cavil in the course of this Contract:
If once it be neglected, ten to one
We shall not find like opportunity.

Alan.
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 contract of a Truce,
Although you break it, when your pleasure serves. [Aside to the Dauphin

War.
How say'st thou Charles?
Shall our Condition stand?

Char.
It shall:
Only reserv'd, you claim no interest
In any of our Towns of Garrison.

York.
Then swear Allegiance 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.
So, now dismiss your Army when you please:
Hang up your Ensigns, let your Drums be still,
For here we entertain a solemn Peace. [Exeunt. Enter Suffolk in conference with King Henry, Gloucester and Exeter.

K. Henry.
Your wondrous rare description, noble Earl,
Of beauteous Margaret hath astonish'd me:
Her Virtues graced with external Gifts,
Do breed Loves settled Passions in my Heart,
And like as rigour with tempestuous Gusts
Provokes the mightiest Hulk against the tide,
So am I driven by breath of her Renown,
Either to suffer Shipwrack, or arrive
Where I may have fruition of her Love.

Suf.
Tush, my good Lord, this superficial Tale
Is but a Preface to her worthy Praise:
The chief Perfections of that lovely Dame,
Had I sufficient Skill to utter them,
Would make a Volume of inticing lines,
Able to ravish any dull conceit.
And which is more, she is not so Divine,
So full repleat with choice of all Delights,
But with as humble lowliness 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. Henry.
And otherwise, will Henry ne'er presume:
Therefore, my Lord Protector, give consent,
That Margaret may be England'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 dispence with that Contract,
And not deface your Honour with reproach?

Suf.
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, is Margaret more than that?
Her Father is no better than an Earl,
Although in glorious Titles he excel.

Suf.
Yes, my good Lord, her Father is a King,
The King of Naples and Jerusalem,
And of such great Authority in France,
That his Alliance will confirm our Peace,
And keep the Frenchmen in Allegiance.

Glo.
And so the Earl of Armagnac may do,
Because he is near Kinsman unto Charles.

Exe.
Beside, his wealth doth warrant liberal Dower,
Where Reignier sooner will receive than give.

Suf.
A Dower, my Lords! Disgrace not so your King,
That he should be so abject, base, and poor,
To chuse for Wealth, and not for perfect Love,

Henry is able to enrich his Queen,
And not to seek a Queen to make him rich,
So worthless Peasants bargain for their Wives,
As Market-men for Oxen, Sheep, or Horse.
But Marriage is a matter of more worth,
Than to be dealt in by Attorney-ship:
Not whom we will, but whom his Grace affects,
Must be companion of his nuptial Bed.
And therefore, Lords, since he affects her most,
It most of all these Reasons bindeth us,
In our Opinions she should be preferr'd;
For what is Wedlock forced, but a Hell,
An age of discord and continual strife?
Whereas the contrary bringeth forth bliss,
And is a Pattern of celestial Peace.
Whom should we match with Henry, being a King,
But Margaret, that is Daughter to a King?
Her peerless Feature, joined with her Birth,
Approves her fit for none, but for a King.
Her valiant Courage, and undaunted Spirit,
More than in Women commonly is seen,
Will answer our hope in issue of a King:
For Henry, Son unto a Conqueror,
Is likely to beget more Conquerors,
If with a Lady of so high resolve,
As is fair Margaret, he be link'd in Love.
Then yield my Lords, and here conclude with me,
That Margaret shall be Queen, and none but she.

K. Henry.
Whether it be through force of your report,
My noble Lord of Suffolk; or for that
My tender youth was never yet attaint
With any Passion of inflaming Love,
I cannot tell; but this I am assur'd,
I feel such sharp dissention in my Breast,
Such fierce alarums both of hope and fear,
As I am sick with working of my thoughts.
Take therefore Shipping; post, my Lord, to France,
Agree to any Covenants, and procure
That Lady Margaret do vouchsafe to come
To cross the Seas to England, and be Crown'd,
King Henry's faithful and anointed Queen.

For your Expences and sufficient Charge,
Among the People gather up a tenth.
Be gone, I say, for 'till you do return,
I rest perplexed with a thousand Cares.
And you, good Uncle, banish all offence:
If you do censure me, by what you were,
Not what you are, I know it will excuse
This sudden Execution of my Will.
And so conduct me, where from company,
I may revolve and ruminate my Grief. [Exit.

Glo.
Ay, grief I fear me, both at first and last. [Exit Gloucester.

Suf.
Thus Suffolk hath prevail'd, and thus he goes
As did the youthful Paris once to Greece,
With hope to find the like event in love,
But prosper better than the Trojan did:
Margaret shall now be Queen, and rule the King:
But I will rule both her, the King, and Realm. [Exit.

THE Second Part of King

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