"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 amongst them, if they turn to us; Else ruin combat with their palaces! Enter a Scout*. Scout. Success unto our valiant general, And happiness to his accomplices! Char. What tidings send our scouts? I pr'ythee, speak. Scout. The English army, that divided was Into two parties, is now conjoin'd in one, And means to give you battle presently. 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 accurs'd.Command the conquest, Charles, it shall be thine; Let Henry fret, and all the world repine. Char. Then on, my lords; and France be fortunate! [Exeunt. 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 periapts3; 4 Enter a SCOUT.] So called in the stage-direction to the old copies: "Scout" designates his particular employment, and he was not a mere messenger, as he is termed in modern editions. He is also called Scout in the prefixes. 5 ye charming spells, and PERIAPTS ;] "Periapts," or amulets, were worn about the neck as preservatives from disease or danger. Of these, the first chapter of St. John's gospel was deemed the most efficacious. See Reginald Scott's "Discovery of Witchcraft," 1584, p. 230, &c. And ye, choice spirits, that admonish me, Enter Fiends. [Thunder. This speedy and quick appearance argues proof 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, [They hang their heads. No hope to have redress ?-My body shall [They shake their heads. Cannot my body, nor blood-sacrifice, See! they forsake me. [They depart. 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, Now, France, thy glory droopeth to the dust. [Exit. Alarums. Enter French and English, fighting; La Pu- York. Damsel of France, I think, I have you fast: Puc. Chang'd 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 surpris'd 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 a while. York. Curse, miscreant, when thou comest to the stake. [Exeunt. Alarums. Enter SUFFOLK, leading in Lady MARGaret. Suf. Be what thou wilt, thou art my prisoner. O, fairest beauty! do not fear, nor fly, [Gazes on her. For I will touch thee but with reverent hands: I kiss these fingers [Kissing her hand] for eternal peace, And lay them gently on thy tender side. Who art thou? say, that I may honour thee. 6 LA PUCELLE and York fight hand to hand.] In the old stage-direction we are told," Burgundy and York fight hand to hand." It is clearly an error, as Burgundy is not on the stage. 7 Fell, BANNING hag!] To "ban" was very commonly used as a synonime to It is from the Sax. abannan. curse. 8 I kiss these fingers [Kissing her hand] for eternal peace, And lay them gently on thy tender side.] Malone and others transpose these lines, but without necessity: Somerset takes the lady Margaret's hand, which was hanging down by her side, and when he has kissed it, he restores it to its place again. Such is Mr. Knight's view of the passage. 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, Go, and be free again, as Suffolk's friend. [She turns away as going. O, stay!—I have no power to let her pass; So seems this gorgeous beauty to mine eyes. Hast not a tongue? is she not here thy prisoner1? Ay; beauty's princely majesty is such, Confounds the tongue, and makes the senses rough. 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? [Aside. Mar. Why speak'st thou not? what ransom must I pay? Suf. She's beautiful, and therefore to be woo'd; She is a woman, therefore to be won. [Aside. 9 Keeping them PRISONERS underneath HER wings.] The folio, 1623, has prisoner and his: the folio, 1632, only corrects his to hir, (for which it was a misprint, her of old having been frequently spelt hir,) and the folio, 1664, gives both words rightly. 66 1 Hast not a tongue? is she not here THY PRISONER?] The words thy prisoner" are from the second folio, and they are clearly necessary to the sense. Some modern editors have inserted "thy prisoner" without notice, as if the first folio had not been defective. 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? [A side. 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 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 rescu'd by the French, And then I need not crave his courtesy. [Aside. Suf. Sweet madam, give me hearing in a cause— Suf. Lady, wherefore talk you so? [Aside. Mar. I cry you mercy, 'tis but quid for quo. Mar. To be a queen in bondage is more vile 2 a WOODEN thing.] An awkward business, (says Steevens,) an undertaking not likely to succeed. The epithet "wooden" was often so applied. |