Command the conqueft, Charles, it shall be thine:
Let Henry fret, and all the world repine.

Dau. Then on, my Lords, and France be fortunate.

[Exeunt. Alarm: excurfions. Enter Joan la Pucelle. Pucel. 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 speedy helpers that are substitutes Under the lordly monarch of the North, Appear, and aid me in this enterprize! Enter Fiends.

[Thunder.

This speedy quick appearance argues proof
Of your accuftom'd diligence to me.
Now ye familiar fpirits that are cull'd
Out of the pow'rful regions under earth,
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 condefcend to help me now. [They hang their beads. No hope to have redress ? my body shall

Pay recompence, if you will grant my fuit.

[They fake their heads.

Cannot my body nor blood-facrifice

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 muft vail her lofty plumed crest,

And let her head fall into England's lap.

My ancient incantations are too weak,

And hell too ftrong for me to buckle with:

Now, France, thy glory droopeth to the duft.

[Exit.

Excurfions. Pucelle and York fight hand to hand. Pucelle is taken. The French fly.

York. Damfel of France, I think I have you faf.

Unchain

Unchain your fpirits 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, fhe would change my shape.
Pucel. Chang'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 mischief light on Charles and thee, And may ye both be fuddenly furpris'd

By bloody hands, in fleeping on your beds!

York. Fell, banning hag, inchantress, hold thy tongue. Pucel. I pr'ythee give me leave to curse a while.

York, Curfe, mifcreant, when thou comeft to the stake.

SCENE IV.

[Exeunt

Alarm. Enter Suffolk with Margaret in bis band. Suf. Be what thou wilt thou art my prifoner.

Oh fairest beauty, do not fear nor fly,

[Gazes on ber

For I will touch thee but with reverent hands:
I kifs 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 not offended, nature's miracle,

[She is going

Thou art allotted to be ta'en by me:
So doth the fwan her downy cygnets fave,
Keeping them pris'ners underneath her wings.
Yes if this fervile ufage once offend,
Go and be free again, as Suffolk's friend.
Oh ftay! I have no pow'r to let her país,
My hand would free her, but my heart fays no.
As plays the fun upon the glaffy ftreams,
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.
VOL. V.

E

Fie,

Fie, De la Pole, difable not thy felf:

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

Oh, beauty's princely majefty is fuch,

Confounds the tongue, and makes the fenfes crouch,
Mar. Say, Earl of Suffolk, if thy name be so,
What ransom muft I pay before I país?

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.

[Afide. Mar. Why fpeak'ft thou not? what ransom 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 ranfom, yea or no? Suf. Fond man, remember that thou haft a wife ; Then how can Margaret be thy paramour ? [Afide. Mar. 'Twere beft to leave him, for he will not hear. Suf. There all is marr'd; there lyes 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 you 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.

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 scorn 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 feems a Knight,

And will not any way difhonour me.

Suf. Lady, vouchfafe to liften what I fay.

[Afide.

Mar. Perhaps I fhall be refcu'd by the French, [Afide.

And then I need not crave his courtefie.

• Why for my King: Tuh, that's a wooden thing Mar. He talks of wood: it is fome carpenter.

Suf. Yet fo iny fancy, &c.

Suf. Sweet Madam, give me hearing in a cause. Mar. Tuth, women have been captivate ere now. *

[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 base servility:

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 fcepter in thy hand,

And fet a precious crown upon thy head,
If thou wilt tondefcend 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 my self.
How fay you, Madam, are you so 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.

SCENE V.

Sound. Enter Reignier on the walls. Suf. See, Reignier, fee thy daughter prifoner. 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,

captivate ere now.

Suf. Lady, wherefore talk you fo?

Mar. I cry you mercy, 'tis but quid for no.
Suf. Say, gentle Princefs, &c.

E e 2

Thy

Thy daughter fhall be wedded to my King;
Whom I with pain have woo'd and won thereto;
And this her eafie-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 feign.
Reig. Upon thy Princely warrant I descend,
To give thee anfwer 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 sweet a child,
Fit to be made companion of a King:

What answer makes your Grace unto my fuit?
Reig. Since thou doft deign to woo her little worth,
To be the Princely bride of fuch a Lord;

Upon condition I may quietly

Enjoy mine own, the country Maine and Anjou,
Free from oppreffion or the ftroke of war,
My daughter shall be Henry's, if he please.
Suf. That is her ranfom, I deliver her;
And thofe two counties I will undertake
Your Grace fhall well and quietly enjoy.
Reig, And Í 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 traffic 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.

[Afide

Mar. Farewel, my Lord: good wifhes, praife and pray'rs Shall Suffolk ever have of Margaret.

[She is going

Suf