K. Henry. My Lords Ambaffadors, your fev'ral fuits Have been confider'd and debated on;

Your purpose is both good and reasonable :
And therefore are we certainly refolv'd
To draw conditions of a friendly peace,
Which by my Lord of Winchester we mean
Shall be transported presently to France.
Glou. And for the proffer of my Lord your mafter,
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 fhe fhall be England's Queen.

K. Henry. In argument and proof of which contract, Bear her this jewel, pledge of my affection.

And fo, my Lord Protector, fee them guarded,
And fafely brought to Dover; where, infhipp'd,
Commit them to the fortune of the fea.

[Exeunt King and train. Win. Stay, my Lord Legate, you fhall firft receive The fum of money which I promised

Should be deliver'd to his Holiness,

For clothing me in these grave ornaments.

Legate. I will attend upon your Lordship's leifure. Win. Now Winchester will not fubmit, I trow,

Or be inferior to the proudeft Peer.

Humphry of Glo'fter, thou fhalt well perceive,
That nor in birth, nor for authority,
The Bishop will be overborne by thee:
I'll either make thee ftoop, and bend thy knee,
Or fack this country with a mutiny.

[Exeunt.

SCENE III. Changes to France.

Enter Dauphin, Burgundy, Alanfon, Baftard, Reignier, and Joan la Pucelle.

Dau. These news, my Lords, may cheer our droop'Tis said, the stout Parifians do revolt, [ing fpirits: And turn again unto the warlike French.

Alan. Then march to Paris, Royal Charles of France, And keep not back your pow'rs in dalliance.

Pucel. Peace be among them if they turn to us, Elfe ruin combat with their palaces. 3 D 2

་་

Enter

Enter Scout.

Scout. Succefs unto our valiant General, And happinefs to his accomplices!

Dau. What tidings fend our scouts ? I pr'ythee, speak, Scout. The English army, that divided was Into two parts, is now conjoin'd in one, And means to give you battle prefently.

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

Burg. I trust the ghoft of Talbot is not there; Now he is gone, my Lord, you need not fear. Pucel. Of all bafe paffions fear is molt accurs'd. Command the conqueft. Charles, it fhall be thine : Let Henry fret, and all the world repine.

Dau. Then on, my Lords, and France be fortunate. [Exeunt, Alarm excurfious. Enter Joan la Pucelle. Purel. The Regent conquers, and the Frenchmen fly. Now help, ye charming fpells and periapts; And, ye choice fpirits, that admonish me, And give me figns of future accidents; You fpeedy helpers, that are fubftitutes Under the lordly monarch of the north, Appear, and aid me in this enterprise. Enter Fiends.

This fpeedy quick appearance argues proofyour accuftom'd diligence to me.

Of

Now, ye familiar fpirits, that are cull'd

Out of the pow'rful legions under earth,

[Thunder

Help me this once, that France may get the field.

[They walk and speak not.

Oh, hold me not with filence 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 redrefs? my body fhall
Pay recompence, if you will grant my fuit.

[They shake their heads.

Cannot my body nor my blood-facrifice

Intreat

Intreat you to your wonted furtherance?
Then take my foul; my body, foul and all,
Before that England give the French the foil.
[They depart.

See, they forfake me. Now the time is come,
That France must vail her lofty plumed creft,
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 duft. [Exit. Excurfions. Fucelle and York fight hand to hand. Pucelle is taken. The French fly.

York. Damfel of France, I think I have you faft. Unchain your fpirits now with fpelling 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, the would change my thape.

Pucel. Change'd to a worfer fhape thou canst not be. York Oh, Charles the Dauphin is a proper man; No fhape but his can please your dainty eye.

Pucel. A plaguing mifchieflight on Charles and thee! And may ye both be fuddenly furpris'd

By bloody hands, in fleeping on your beds!

York.Fell,banning hag! inchantrefs, hold thy tongue, Pucel. I pr'ythee, give me leave to cure a while. York. Curfe, mifcreant, when thou comeft to the [Exeunt.

ftake.

Alarm. Enter Suffolk, with Lady Margaret in his hand.

Suf. Be what thou wilt, thou art my prifoner. [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 fide.
Who art thou fay; that I may honour thee.

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

Suf. An Earl I am, and Suffolk am I call'd.

Be

Be not offended, nature's miracle,

Thou art allotted to be ta'en by me:

So doth the fwan her downy cygnets fave,
Keeping them pris'ners underneath her wings.
Yet if this fervile ufage 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 fays, No.
As plays the fun upon the glafsy streams,
Twinkling another counterfeited beam,

So feems 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, difable not thyself:

Haft not a tongue? is fhe not here thy pris'ner?
Wilt thou be daunted at a woman's fight?

Ay; beauty's princely majefty is fuch,

Confounds the tongue, and makes the fenfes rough. Mar. Say, Earl of Suffolk, if thy name be fo, What ranfom muft I pay before I pass?

For I perceive I am thy prifoner.

Suf. How canft thou tell fhe will deny thy fuit, Before thou make a trial of her love?

[Afide. Mar. Why fpeak'ft thou not? what ranfom muft I

pay?

Suf. She's beautiful; and therefore to be wooed : She is a woman, therefore to be won. [Afide. Mar. Wilt thou accept of ranfom, yea, or no? Suf. Fond man! remember that thou haft a wife; Then how can Margaret be thy paramour? [Afide. Mar. 'Twere 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'; fure the man is mad. Suf. And yet a difpenfation may be had. Mar. And yet I would that thou would answer me. Suf. I'll win this Lady Margaret. For whom? Why, for my King *.

Yet fo my fancy may be fatisfy'd,

And peace established between these realms.

*Why, for my King: Tufh, that's a wooden thing. Mar. He talk's of woed: it is fome carpenter,

Suf. Yet fo my fancy, &c.

But

But there remains a fcruple in that too:

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

And our Nobility will fcorn the match.

[Afide.

Mar. Hear ye me, Captain? are ye not at leisure? Suf. It fhall be fo, difdain they ne'er fo much : Henry is youthful, and will quickly yield.

Madam, I have a fecret to reveal.

Mar. What tho' I be inthrall'd, he seems a Knight.

And will not any way dishonour me.

Suf. Lady, vouchfafe to liften what I fay.

[Afide.

[Afide

Mar. Perhaps I fhall be refcu'd by the French, And then I need not crave his courtesy. Suf. Sweet Madam give me hearing in a caufe. Mar. Tufh, women have been captivate ere now t.

[Afide. Suf. Say', gentle Princefs, would you not fuppofe Your bondage happy, to be made a Queen? Mar. To be a Queen in bondage, is more vile Than is a flave in bafe fervility;

For princes fhould be free.

Suf. And fo fhall 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 fceptre in thy hand,

And fet 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 fo fair a dame to be his wife,
And have no portion in the choice myself.
How fay you, Madam? are you fo 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 caftle-walls,
We'll crave a parley to confer with him.

captive ere now,

Suf. Lady, wherefore talk you fo?

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

Suf. Say, gentle Princefs, &c.

SCENE