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If thou wilt condefcend 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 wooe fo fair a dame to be his wife;

And have no portion in the choice

my felf. 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.


Sound. Enter Reignier on the walls. Suf. See, Reignier, see thy daughter prisoner. Reig. To whom?

Suf. To me.

Reig. Suffolk, what remedy?

I am a foldier, and unapt to weep,
Or to exclaim on fortune's fickleness.

Suf. Yes, there is remedy enough, my lord:
Confent, and for thy honour give confent,
Thy daughter fhall be wedded to my King;
Whom I with pain have woo'd and won thereto;
And this her eafy-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 juft demand.
Suf. And here I will expect thy Coming.
Trumpets found. Enter Reignier.

Reig. Welcome, brave Earl, into our territories;
Command in Anjou, what your Honour pleases.
Suf. Thanks, Reignier, happy in fo fweet a child,
Fit to be made companion of a King :
What answer makes your Grace unto my fuit?
Reig. Since thou doft deign to wooe her little worth,
To be the Princely bride of such a lord;


Upon condition I may quietly

Enjoy mine own, the country Maine and Anjou,
Free from oppreffion of the ftroke of war,
My daughter shall be Henry's, if he please.
Suf That is her ransom, I deliver her ;
And thofe two Counties, 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 fign of plighted faith.

Suf. Reignier of France, I give thee kingly thanks, Because this is in traffick of a King.

And yet, methinks, I could be well content
To be mine own Attorney in this cafe.
I'll over then to England with this News,
And make this marriage to be folemniz'd :
So farewel, Reignier; fet this diamond safe
In golden Palaces, as it becomes.


Reig. I do embrace thee, as I would embrace The Chriftian Prince King Henry, were he here. Mar. Farewel, my lord: good wifhes, praife and pray'rs Shall Suffolk ever have of Margaret. [She is going. Suf. Farewel, fweet Madam, hark you, Margaret

No princely commendations to my King?

Mar. Such commendations as become a maid,

A virgin and his fervant, say to him.®

Suf. Words fweetly plac'd, and modeftly 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 fend the King.

Suf. And this withal.

[Kifles ber.

Mar. That for thy felf I will not fo prefume,

4 To fend fuch peevish tokens to a King.

Suf. O, wert thou for my felf!-but, Suffolk, ftay; Thou may'st not wander in that labyrinth; There Minotaurs, and ugly treafons, lurk. Sollicit Henry with her wond'rous praise, Bethink thee on her virtues that furmount,

4 To fend fuch geevish tokens. -] Peevish, for childish.


Her nat❜ral graces that extinguish art;

Repeat their femblance often on the feas;

That, when thou com'ft to kneel at Henry's feet,
Thou may'ft bereave him of his wits with wonder.

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Enter York, Warwick, a shepherd and Pucelle.

York. Bring forth that forceress, condemn'd to burn. Shep. Ah Joan! This kills thy father's heart outright.

Have I fought ev'ry Country far and near,
And now it is my chance to find thee out,
Muft I behold thy timeless, cruel, death!
Ah, Joan, fweet daughter, I will die with thee.
Pucel. 5 Decrepit mifer! base ignoblewretch !
I am defcended of a gentler blood.

Thou art no father, nor no friend of mine.

Shep. Out, out !-my lords, an please you, 'tis not fo; I did beget her, all the parish knows :

Her mother, living yet, can'teftify,

She was the first-fruit of my batch'lorship.

War. Graceless, wilt thou deny thy parentage? York. This argues what her kind of life hath been, Wicked and vile; and fo her death concludes. Shep. Fie, Joan, that thou wilt be so obstacle : God knows, thou art a collop of my flesh, And for thy fake have I shed many a tear; Deny me not, I pray thee, gentle Joan.

Pucel. Peafant, avaunt! You have fuborn'd this man

Of purpose to obfcure 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 bleffing, good my girl. Wilt thou not stoop? Now curfed be the time Of thy nativity! I would, the milk,

Thy mother gave thee when thou fuck'dft her breast, Had been a little ratsbane for thy fake :

Or else, when thou did'st keep my lambs a-field,

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I wish fome rav'nous wolf had eaten thee.
Doft thou deny thy father, curfed drab ?

O, burn her, burn her; hanging is too good. [Exit.
York. Take her away, for fhe hath liv'd too long,
To fill the world with vitious qualities.

Pucel. First, let me tell you, whom you have con-

Not me begotten of a fhepherd fwain,
But iffu'd from the progeny of Kings;
Virtuous and holy, chofen from above,
By infpiration of celestial grace,

To work exceeding miracles on earth :
I never had to do with wicked Spirits.
But you, that are polluted with your lufts,
Stain'd with the guiltlefs blood of innocents,
Corrupt and tainted with a thousand vices,
Because you want the grace that others have,
You judge it ftraight a thing impoffible
To compafs wonders, but by help of devils.
No, misconceived Joan of Arc hath been
A virgin from her tender infancy,

Chafte and immaculate in very thought;
Whose maiden blood, thus rig'roully 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 pitchy barrels on the fatal stake,

That so her torture may be shortened.

Pucel. Will nothing turn your unrelenting hearts ? Then, Joan, difcover 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.

York. Now heav'n forefend! the holy maid' with child!

War. The greatest miracle that ere you wrought: Is all your ftrict precifenefs 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 baftards live Efpecially, fince Charles muft father it.

Pucel. You are deceiv'd, my child is none of his; It was Alanfon, that enjoy'd my love.

York. Alanfon! that notorious Machiavel! It dies, an 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.

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War. A married man! that's most intolerable. York. Why, here's a girl; I think, fhe knows not well, (There were fo many) whom she may accuse.

War. It's fign, the hath been liberal and free. York. And yet, forfooth, fhe is a virgin pure. Strumpet, thy words condemn thy brat and thee: Ufe no intreaty, for it is in vain.

Pucel. Then lead me hence; with whom I leave

May never glorious fun reflect his beams
Upon the country where you make abode !
But darkness and the gloomy fhade of death
Inviron you, 'till mischief and despair


you to

break your

necks or hang yourselves!


[Exit guarded.

York. Break thou in pieces, and confume to ashes, Thou foul accurfed minifter of hell!


Enter Cardinal of Winchester.

Car. Lord Regent, I do greet your Excellence.
With letters of Commiffion from the King.
For know, my lords, the ftates of Christendom,
Mov'd with remorfe of thefe outrageous broils,
Have earnestly implor'd a gen'ral Peace

6 Betwixt our nation and th' respiring French ;


6 Betwixt our nation and th' ASPIRING French ;] But would an Ambaffador, who came to perfuade peace with France, use it as an argument, that France was afpiring. Shakespear without doubt wrote,


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