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Lucy. His fame lives in the world, his shame in you. Tal. When from the Dauphin's crest thy sword

(Exeunt. struck fire,
SCENE V. - The English camp near Bourdeaux. It warm’d thy father's heart with proud desire

Enter Talbot, and Joux his Son. Of bold-fac'd victory. Then leaden age,
Tal. O young John Talbot! i did send for thee, Quicken'd with youthful spleen, and warlike rage,
To tutor thee in stratagems of war;

Beat down Alençon, Orleans, Burgundy,
That Talbot's name might be in thee reviv'd, And from the pride of Gallia rescu'd thee.
When sapless age, and weak unable limbs, The ireful bastard Orleans--that drew blood
Should bring thy father to his drooping chair. From thee, my boy; and had the maidenhood
But, -0 malignant and ill-boding stars !

Of thy first fight-I soon encountered;
Now thou art come unto a feast of death,

And, interchanging blows, I quickly shed
A terrible and unavoided danger:

Some of his bastard blood; and, in disgrace,
Therefore, dear bóy, mount on my swiftest horse; Bespoke him thus: Contaminated, base,
And I'll direct thee how thou shalt escape

And misbegotten blood I spill of thine,
By sudden flight : come, dally not, begone. Meun and right poor ; for that


blood of mine, John. Is my name Talbot? and am I your


Which thou didst force from Talbot, my brave boy:And shall I ily? o, if you love my mother, Here, purposing the Bastard to destroy, Dishonour not her honourable name,

Came in strong rescue. Speak, thy father's care; To make a bastard, and a slave of me:

Art not thou weary, John? How dost thou fare? The world will say: he is not Talbot's blood,

Wilt thou yet leave the battle, boy, and fly,
That basely fled, when noble Talbot stood. Now thou art seal'd the son of chivalry?
Tal. Fly, to revenge my death, if I be slain.

Fly, to revenge my death, when I am dead;
John. He, that flies so, will ne'er return again. The help of one stands me in little stead.
Tal. If we both stay, we both are sure to die. 0, too much folly is it, well I wot,
John. Then let me stay, and, father, do you fly: To hazard all our lives in one small boat.
Your loss is great, so your regard should be; If I to-day die not with Frenchmen's rage,
My worth unknown, no loss is known in me. To-morrow I shall die with mickle age:
Upon my death the French can little boast;

By me they nothing gain, an if I stay,
In yours they will, in you all hopes are lost. 'f'is but the short’ning of my life one day:
Flight cannot stain the honour


In thee thy mother dies, our household's name,
But mine it will, that no exploit have done : My death’s revenge, thy youth, and England's fame :
You fled for vantage every one will swear: All these, and more, we hazard by thy stay;
But, if I bow, they'll say-it was for fear.

All these are sav’d, if thou wilt fly away.
There is no hope, that ever I will stay,

John.The sword of Orleans hath not made me smart, If, the first hour, I shrink, and run away.

These words of yours draw life-blood from my heart: Here, on my knee, I beg mortality,

On that advantage, bought with such a shame,
Rather than life preserv'd with infamy.

(To save a paltry life, and slay bright fame,)
Tal. Shall all thy mother's hopes lie in one tomb? Before young Talbot from old Talbot fly,
John. Ay, rather than I'll shame my mother's womb. The coward horse, that bears me, fall and die!
Tal. Upon my blessing I command thee go. And like me to the peasant boys of France;
John. To fight I will, but not to fly the toe.

To be shame's scorn, and subject of mischance!
Tal. Part of thy father may be sav'd in thee.

Surely, by all the glory you have won,
John. No part of him, but will be shame in me. An if I fly, I am not Talbot's son:
Tal. Thou never hadst renown, nor canst not lose it. Then talk no more of flight, it is no boot;
John. Yes, your renowned name; shall flight abuse it? If son to Talbot die at Talbot's foot.
Tal. Thy father's charge shall clear thee from that Tal. Then follow thou thy desperate sire of Crete,

Thou Icarus; thy life to me is sweet :
John. You cannot witness for

being slain.

If thou wilt fight, fight by thy father's side;
If death be so apparent, then both fly.

And, commendable prov'd, let's die in pride. [Exeunt.
Tal. And leave my followers here, to fight, and die?
My age was never tainted with such shame.

SCENE VII. – Another part of the same.
John. And shall my youth be guilty of such blame? Alarum: Excursions.
No more can I be sever'd from your side,

Enter Talbot wounded,

supported by a Servunt.
Than can yourself yourself iu twain divide : Tal. Where is my other life ?-mine own is gone; -
Stay, 30, do what you will, the like do I;
For live I will not, if my father die.

0, where's young Talbot? where is valiant John?Tal. Then here I take my leave of thee, fair son, Young Talbot's valour makes me smile at thee :

Triumphant death, smear'd with captivity!
Born to eclipse thy life this afternoon.

When he perceiv'd me shrink, and on my knee,
Come, side by side together live and die;
And soul with soul from France to heaven fly. (Exeunt. And, like a hungry lion, did commence

His bloody sword he brandish'd over me,
SCENE VI. - A field of battle.

Rough deeds of rage, and stern impatience;
Alarum: Excursions, wherein Talbot's Son is hem- Tend'ring my ruin, and assail'd of none,

But when my angry guardant stood alone, med about, and Talbot rescues him. Tal. Saint George and victory ! fight, soldiers, fight! Suddenly made him from my side to start

Dizzy-ey'd fury, and great rage of heart,
The regent hath with Talbot broke his word,

Into the clust'ring battle of the French :
And left us to the rage of France his sword.
Where is John Talbot? - pause, and take thy breath ; His overmounting spirit; and there died

And in that sea of blood my boy did drench
I gave thee life, and rescu'd thee from death.
John. O twice my father! twice am I thy son:

My Icarus, my blossom, in his pride.
The life, thou gav'st me first, was lost and done,

Enter Soldiers, bearing the body of Jons Taldot; Till with thy warlike sword, despite of fate,

Serv. O my dear lord ?lo, where your son is borne! To my determin's time thou gav'st new date.

Tal. Thou antic death, which laugh’st us here to




Anon, from thy insulting tyranny,

It would amaze the prondest of you all. Coupled in bonds of perpetuity,

Give me their bodies; that I may bear them hence, Two Talbots, winged through the lither sky, And give them burial as beseems their worth. In thy despite, shall 'scape mortality. —

Puc. I think, this upstart is old Talbot's ghost,
O thon whose wounds become hard-favour'd death, He speaks with such a proud commanding spirit.
Speak to thy father, ere thou yield thy breath : For God's sake, let him have’em ; to keep thein here,
Brave death by speaking, whether he will, or no; They woull but stink, and putrefy the air.
Imagine him a Frenchman, and thy foe. -

Char. Go, take their bodies hence.
Poor boy! he smiles, methinks; as who should say Lucy. I'll bear them hence :
Had death been French, then death hall died to-day. But from their ashes shall be rear'd
Come, come, and lay him in his father's arms;

A phoenix, that shall make all France afeard. My spirit can no longer bear these harms.

Char. So we be rid of them, do with 'em what thou Soldiers, adien! I have what I would have,

wilt. Now my old arms are young John Talbot'sgrave. (Dies. And now to Paris, in this conquering vein; Alarums. Exeunt Soldiers and Servants, leaving All will be ours, now bloody Talbot's slain. (Exeunt. the two bodies. Enter CHARLES, Alençon, BUR

GUNDY, Bastard, La Pucelle, and Forces.
Char. Had York and Somerset brought rescue in,

А ст V.
We should have found a bloody day of this.

SCENE I. - London. A room in the palace.
Bast. How the young whelp of Talbot's,raging-wood, Enter King Henry, Gloster, and Exeter.
Did flesh his puny sword in Frenchmen’s blood! K. Hen. Have you perus’d the letters from the pope,

Puc. Once I encounter'd him, and thus I said, The emperor, and the eart of Armagnac?
Thou maiden youth, be vanquish'd by a maid: Glo. I have, my lord, and their intent is this,
But—with a proud, majestical high scorn, They humbly sue unto your excellence,
He answer'd thus: Young Talbot was not born To have a godly peace concluded ot,
To be the pillage of a giglot wench :

Between the realms of England and of France. So, rushing in the bowels of the French,

K. Hen. How doth your grace alect their motion ? He left me proudly, as unworthy fight.

Glo. Well, my good lord; and as ibe only means Bur. Doubtless, he would have made a noble knight: To stop effusion of our Christian blood, See, where he lies inhersed in the arms

And 'stablish quietness on every side. Of the most bloody nurser of his harms.

K. Hen. Ay, marry, uncle; for I always thought,
Bust. Hew them to pieces, hack their bones asunder; It was both impious and unnatural,
Whose life was England's glory, Gallia's wonder, That such immanity and bloody strife
Char. O, no; forbear: for that, which we have fled should reign among professors of one faith.
During the life, let us not wrong it dead.

Glo. Beside, my lord, – tire sooner to effect,
Enter Sir William Lucy, attended; a French And surer bind, this knot of amity,
Herald preceding:

The earl of Armagnac-near knit to Charles,
Lucy. Herald,

A man of great authority in France, Conduct me to the Dauphin's tent; to know Proffers his only daughter to your grace Who have obtain'd the glory of the day.

In marriage, with a large and sumptuous dowry. Char. On what submissive message art thou sent? | K. Hen. Marriage, uncle! alas! my years are young: Lucy. Submission, Dauphin? 'tis a mere french and fitter is my study and my books, word;

Than wanton dalliance with a paramour.
We English warriors wot not what it means. Yet, call the ambassadors; and, as you please,
I come to know what prisoners thou hast ta’en, So let them have their answers every one:
And to survey the bodies of the dead.

I shall be well content with any choice,
Char. For prisoners ask'st thou ? hell our prison is. Tends to God's glory, and my country's weal.
But tell me whom thou seek'st.

Enter a Legate, and two Ambassadors, with Lucy. Where is the great Alcides of the field,

WINCHESTER, in a cardinal's habit. Valiant lord Talbot, earl of Shrewsbury?

Exe. What! is my lord of Winchester install’d, Created, for his rare success in arms,

And callid unto a cardinal's degree !
Great earl of Washford, Waterford, and Valence; Then, I perceive, that will be verified,
Lord Talbot of Goodrig and Urchinfield,

Henry the fifth did sometime prophecy:
Lord Strange of Blackmere, lord Verdun of Alton, If once he come to be a cardinal,
Lord Cromwell of Wingfield, lord Furnival of Shef- He'll make his cap co-equal with the crown.

K. Hen. My lords ambassadors, your several suits
The thrice victorions lord of Falconbridge; Have been consider'd and debated on,
Knight of the noble order of Saint George, Your purpose is both good and reasonable:
Worthy Saint Michael, and the golden fleece; And, therefore, are we certainly resolv’d
Great mareshal to Henry the sixth,

To draw conditions of a friendly peace;
Of all his wars within the realm of France ? Which, by my lord of Winchester, we mean:

Pue. Here is a silly stately style indeed! Shall be transported presently to France.
The Turk, that two and fifty kingdoms hath, Glo. And for the proffer of my lord your master,
Writes not so tedious a style as this.

I have informn'd his highness so at large,
Him, that thou magnifiest with all these titles, As, – liking of the lady's virtuous gifts,
Stinking, and fly-blown, lies here at our feet. Her beauty, and the value of her dower,

Lucy. Is Talbot slain; the Frenchman's only scourge, He doth intend' she shall be England's queen.
Your kingdom's terror and black Nemesis?

K. Hen. In argument and proof of which contract,
O, were mine eye-balls into bullets turn’d, Bear her this jewel, [To she Amb.] pledge of my af-
That I, in rage, migirt shoot them at your faces! fection.
O, that I could but call these dead to life!

And so, my lord protector, see them guarded, It were enough to fright the realm of France: And safely brought to Dover; where, inshipp'd, Were but his picture left among you here,

Commit them to the fo tune of the sea.

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[Exeunt King Henry and Train; Gloster, See! they forsake me. Now the time is come,
Exeter, and Ambassadors.

That France must vail her lofty-plumed crest,
Win. Stay, my lord legate; you shall first receive And let her head fall into England's lap.
The sum of money, which I promised

My ancient incantations are too weak,
Should be delivered to his holiness,

And hell too strong for me to buckle with:
For clothing me in these grave ornaments.

Now, France, thy glory droopeth to the dust. (Exit.
Leg. I will attend upon your lordship’s leisure. Alarums. Enter French and English, fighting. La
Win. Now, Winchester will not submit, I trow, Pucelle and YORK fight hand to hand. La Pucelle
Or be inferior to the proudest peer.

is taken. The French fly.
Humphrey of Gloster, thou shalt well perceive, Tork. Damsel of France, I think, I have you fast:
That, neither in birth, or for authority,

Unchain your spirits pow with spelling charms,
The bishop will be overborne by thee:

And try if they can gain your liberty: –
I'll either make thee stoop, and bend thy knee, A goodly prize, fit for the devil's grace!
Or sack this country with a mutiny. (Exeunt. See, how the ugly witch doth bend her brows,

As if, with Circe, she would change my shape.
SCENE II. - France. Plains in Anjou. Puc. Chang'd to a worser shape thou canst not be.
Enter Charles, BURGUNDY, Alençox, La Pucelle, York. 0, Charles the Dauphin is a proper man;
and Forces, marching:

No shape but his can please your dainty eye,
Char. These news, my lords, may cheer our droop- Puc. A plaguing mischieflight on Charles, and thee!
ing spirits :

And may ye both be suddenly surpris’d
'Tis said, the stout Parisians do revolt,

By bloody haois, in sleeping on your beds!
And turn again unto the warlike French.

York.Feil,banning hag! enchantress, hold thy tongue!
Alen. Then march to Paris, royal Charles of France, Puc. I pr’ythee, give me leave to curse a while.
Aud keep not back your powers in dalliance. York. Curse, miscreant, when thou comest to the
Puc. Peace be amongst them, if they turn to us; stake.

Else, ruin combat with their palaces!

Alarums. Enter Suffolk, leading in Lady Margaret.
Enter a Messenger.

Suf. Be what thou wilt, thou art my prisoner.
Mess. Success unto our valiant general,

(Gazes on her.
And happiness to his accomplices !

O fairest beauty, do not fear, por fly;
Char. What tidings send our scouts? I pr’ythee,speak. For I will touch thee but with reverent hands,
Mess. The English army, that divided was And lay them gently on thy tender side.
Into two parts, is now conjoiu'd in one;

I kiss these fingers ( Kissing her hand. ] for eternal
And means to give you battle presently. -

Char. Somewhat too sudden, sirs, the warning is; Who art thou ? say, that I may honour thee.
But we will presently provide for them.

Mar. Margaret my name; and daughter to a king,
Bur. I trust the ghost of Talbot is not there; The king of Naples, whosoe'er thou art.
Now he is gone, my lord, you need not fear. Suf. An earl I am, and Suffolk am I call’d.
Puc. Of all base passions, fear is most accurs’d:- Be not offended, nature's miracle,
Command the conquest, Charles, it sliall be thine; Thou art allotted to be ta’en by me:
Let Henry fret, and all the world repine.

So doth the swan her downy cygnets save,
Char. Then on, my lords; and France be fortu- Keeping them prisoners underneath her wings.

[Exeunt. Yet, if this servile usage once oflend,

Go, and be free again as Sullolk's friend.
SCENE JI. The same. Before Angiers.

[She turns away as going.
Alarums: Excursions, Enter La PUCELIE. 0, stay!- I have no power to let her pass
Puc. The regent conquers, and the Frenchmen fly. My hand would free her, but my heart says-10,
Now help, ye charming spells, and periapts; As plays the sun upon the glassy streams,
And ye choice spirits, that admonish me,

Twinkling another counterfeited beam,
And give me signs of future accidents ! [Thunder. So seems this gorgeous beauty to mine eyes.
You speedy helpers, that are substitutes

Fain would I woo her, yet I dare not speak;
Under the lordly monarch of the north,

I'll call for pen and ink, and write my mind:
Appear, and aid me in this enterprize!

Fye, De la Poole! disable not thyself;
Enter Fiends.
This speedy quick appearance argues proof

Hast not a tongue? is she not here thy prisoner ?

Wilt thou be daunted at a woman's sight?
Of your accustom'd diligence to me.

Ay, beauty's princely majesty is such,
Now, ye familiar spirits, that are cullid

Confounds the tongue, and makes the senses rough.
Out of the powerful regions under earth,

Mar. Say, earl of Suffolk, – if thy name be so,
Help me this once, that France may get the field. What ransome must I pay before I pass?

(They walk about, and speak not. For, I perceive, I am thy prisoner,
0, hold me not with silence over-loug!

Suf. How canst thou tell, she will deny thy suit,
Where I was wont to feed


Before thou make a trial of her love?
I'll lop a member off, and give it you,
In earnest of a further benefit;

Mar. Why speak'st thou not? what ransome must

I pay?
So you do condescend to help me now. -

Suf. She's beautiful; and therefore to be woo'd;
[They hang their heads. She is a woman ; therefore to be won.
No hope to have redress? – My body shall
Pay recompence, if you will grant my suit.

Mar. Wilt thou accept of ransome, yea, or no?

Suf. Fond man! remember, that thou hast a wife;
Cannot my body, nor blood-sacrifice,

(They shake their heads. Then how can Margaret be thy paramour? (Aside.
Entreat you to your wonted furtherance?

Mar. I were best leave him, for he will not hear.
Then take my soul; my body, soul, and all,

Suf. There all is marr’d; there lies a cooling card.
Before that England give the French the foil.

Mar. He talks at random ; sure, the man is mad.
[They depart. Mar. And yet I would that you would answer me.

Suf. And yet a dispensation may be had.

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Suf. I'll win this Lady Margaret. For whom? Reig. Since thou dost deign to woo her little worth,
Why, for my king: Tush! that's a wooden thing. To be the princely bride of such a lord;
Mür. He talks of wood: it is some carpenter.. Upon condition I may quietly
Suf. Yet so my fancy may be satisfied,

Enjoy mine own, the county Maine, and Anjou,

peace established between these realms. Free from oppression, or the stroke of war,
But there remains a scruple in that too :

My daughter shall be Henry's, if he please.
For though her father be the king of Naples, Suf. That is her ransome, I deliver her;
Duke of Anjou and Maine, yet is he poor,

And those two counties, I will undertake,
And our nobility will scorn the match. [ Aside. Your grace shall well and quietly enjoy.
Mar. Hear ye, captain? Are you not at leisure ? Reig. And I again, - in Henry's royal name,
Suf. It shall be so, disdain they ne'er so much: As deputy unto that gracious king,
Henry is youthful, and will quickly yield.

Give thee her hand, for sign of plighted faith.
Madam, I have a secret to reveal.

Suf. Reignier of France, I give thee kingly thanks,
Mar. What though I be enthrall’d? he seems a knight, Because this is in traffic of a king :
And will not any way dishonour me. [ Aside. And yet, methinks, I could be well content

Suf. Lady, vouchsafe to listen what I say. To be mine own attorney in this case. [Aside.
Mar. Perhaps, I shall be rescu'd by the French ; I'll over then to England with this news,
And then I need not crave his courtesy. (Aside. And make this marriage to be solemniz'd:
Suf. Sweet madam, give me hearing in a cause – So, farewell, Reignier! Set this diamond safe
Mar. Tush! women have been captivate ere now. In golden palaces, as it becomes.

[Aside. Reig. I do embrace thee, as I would embrace Suf. Lady, wherefore talk you so ?

The Christian prince, king Henry, were he here.
Mar. I cry yon mercy, 'tis but quid for quo. Mar. Farewell, my lord! Good wishes, praise, and
Suf. Say, gentle princess, would you not suppose prayers,
Your bondage happy, to be made a queen ?

Shall Suffolk ever have of Margaret. Going.
Mar. To be a queen in bondage, is more vile, Suf. Farewell,sweet madam! But hark you, Margaret;
Than is a slave iu base servility;

No princely commendations to my king?
For princes should be free.

Mar. Such commendations as become a maid,
Suf. And so shall you,

A virgin, and his servant, say to him.
If happy England's royal king be free.

Suf. Words sweetly plac’d, and modestly directed.
Mar. Why, what concerns his freedom unto me? But, madam, I must trouble you again,
Suf. I'll undertake to make thee Henry's queen; No loving token to his majesty ?
To put a golden sceptre in thy hand,

Mar. Yes, my good lord; a pure unspotted heart,
And set a precious crown upon thy head,

Never yet taint with love, I send the king.
If thou wilt condescend to be my --

Suf. And this withal.

(Kisses her. Mar. What?

Mar. That for thyself; – I will not so presume,
Suf. His love.

To send such peevish tokens to a king,
Mar. I am unworthy to be Henry's wife.

(Exeunt Reignier and Margaret. Suf. No, gentle madam ; I unworthy am

Suf. 0, wert thou for myself! – But, Suffolk, stay:
To woo so fair a dame to be his wife,

Thou may'st not wander in that labyrinth;
And have no portion in the choice myself. There minotaurs, and ugly treasons, lurk.
How say you, madam; are you so content ? Solicit Henry with her wond'rous praise:
Mar. An if my father please, lam content. Bethink thee on her virtues, that surmount;
Suf. Then call our captains, and our colours, forth: Mad, natural graces, that extinguish art;
And, madam, at your father's castle walls

Repeat their semblance often on the sea's,
We'll crave a parley, to confer with him.

That, when thou com’st to kneel at Henry's feet, [Troops come forward. Thou may'st bereave him of his wits with wonder. A parley sounded. Enter Reignier, on the walls.

(Exit. Suf. See, Reignier, see, thy daughter prisoner. SCENE IV. – Camp of the Duke of York, in Anjou. Reig. To whom?

Enter YORK, WARWICK, and Others,
Suf. To me.

York. Bring forth that sorceress, condemn’d to burn.
Reig. Sullolk, what remedy?

Enter La PUCELLE, guarded, and a Shepherd. I am a soldier; and unapt to weep,

Shep. Ah, Joan! this kills thy father's heart outright!
Or to exclaim on fortune's fickleness.

Have I sought every country far and near,
Suf. Yes, there is remedy enough, my lord: And, now it is my chance to find thee ont,
Consent, (and, for thy honour, give consent,) Must I behold thy timeless cruel death?
Thy daughter shall be wedded to my king; Ah, Joan, sweet daughter Joan, l'll die with thee!
Whom I with pain have woo'd and won thereto; Puc. Decrepit miser! base ignoble wretch!
And this her easy-held imprisonment

I am descended of a gentler blood;
Hath gain’d thy daughter princely liberty.

Thou art no father, nor no friend, of mine.
Reig. Speaks Suffolk as he thinks ?

Shep. Out, out!-Mylords, an please you, 'tis not so;
Suf. Fair Margaret knows,

I did beget her, all the parish knows :
That Suffolk doth not flatter, face, or feign. Her mother liveth yet, can testify,
Reig. Upon thy princely warrant, I descend, She was the first fruit of my bachelorship.
To give thee answer of thy just demand.

Far. Graceless! wilt thou deny thy parentage?

(Exit, from the walls. York. This argues what her kind of life hath been ; Suf. And here I will expect thy coming.

Wicked and vile: and so her death concludes.
Trumpets sounded. Enter Peignier, below. Shep. Fye, Joan! that thou wilt be so obstacle !
Reig. Welcome, brave earl, into our territories; God knows, thou art a collop of my flesh;
Command in Anjou what your honour pleases. And for thy sake have I shed many a tear :

Suf. Thanks, Reigoier, happy for so sweet a child, Deny me not, I prythee, gentle Joan.
Fit to be made companion with a king :

Puc. Peasant, avaunt!- You have suborn'd this man,
What answer makes your grace unto my suit? of purpose to obscure my noble birth.

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Shep. 'Tis true, I gave a noble to the priest, York. Break thon in pieces, and consume to ashes,
The morn that I was wedded to her mother. Thou foul accursed minister of hell !
Kneel down and take my blessing, good my girl!

Enter Cardinal Beaufont, attended. Wilt thou not stoop? Now cursed be the time Car. Lord regent, I do greet your excellence of thy nativity! I would, the milk

With letters of commission from the king.
Thy mother gave thee, when thou suck’dst her breast, For know, my lords, the states of Christendom,
Had been a little ratsbane for thy sake!

Mov'd with remorse of these outrageous broils,
Or else, when thou didst keep my lambs a-field, llave earnestly implor'd a general peace
I wish some ravenous wolf had eaten thee!

Betwixt our nation, and the aspiring French;
Dost thou deny thy father, cursed drab?

And here at hand, the Dauphiu, and his train, O, burn her, burn her; hanging is too good! (Exit. Approacheth, to confer about some matter. York. Take her away; for she hath liv'd too long, Pork. Is all our travail tura'd to this effect ? To fill the world with vicious qualities.

After the slaughter of so many peers, Puc. First, let me tell you whom you have con- So many captains, gentlemen, and soldiers, demn'd:

That in this quarrel have been overthrown, Not me begotten of a shepherd swain,

And sold their bodies for their country's benefit, But issu'd from the progeny of kings;

Shall we at last conclude etl'eminate peace? Virtuous, and holy; chosen from above,

Have we not lost most part of all the towus. By inspiration of celestial grace,

By treason, falsehood, and by treachery, To work exceeding miracles on earth.

Our great progenitors had conquered ? I never had to do with wicked spirits:

0, Warwick, Warwick, I foresee with grief that are polluted with your lasts, The utter loss of all the realm of France. Stain'd with the guiltless blood of innocents, War. Be patient, York; if we conclude a peace, Corrupt and tainted with a thousand vices, - It shall be with such strict and severe covenants, Because you want the grace that others have, As little shall the Frenchmen gain thereby. You judge it straight a thing impossible

Enter Charles, attended; Alençox, Bastard, ReicTo compass wonders, but by help of devils.

Nier, and Others. No, misconceived ! Joan of Arc hath been

Char. Since, lords of England, it is thus agreed, A virgin from her tender infancy,

That peaceful truce shall be proclaim'd in France, Chaste and immaculate in very thought;

We come to be informed by yourselves
Whose maiden blood, thus rigorously effus'd, What the conditions of that league must be.

vengeance at the gates of heaven. York. Speak, Winchester; for boiling choler chokes
Pork. Ay, ay ; – away with her to execution ! The hollow passage of my poison’d voice,
War. And hark ye, sirs; because she is a maid, By sight of these our baleful enemies.
Spare for po fagots, let there be enough:

Vin, Charles, and the rest, it is enacted thus:
Place barrels of pitch upon the fatal stake, That-in regard king Henry gives consent,
That so her torture may be shortened.

Of mere compassion, and of lenity,
Puc. Will nothing turn your unrelenting hearts?- To ease your country of distressful war,
Then, Joan, discover thine infirmity;

And suffer you to breathe in fruitful peace,
That warranteth by law to be thy privilege.- You shall become true liegemen to his crown :
I am with child, ye bloody homicides:

And, Charles, upon condition thou wilt swear Murder not then the fruit within my womb, To pay him tribute, and submit thyself, Although ye hale me to a violent death.

Thou shalt be plac'd as viceroy under him,
York. Now, heaven forefend! the holy maid with And still enjoy thy regal dignity.
child ?

Alen. Muse he be then as shadow of himself?
War. The greatest miracle that e'er ye wrought : Adorn his temples with a coronet;
Is all your strict preciseness come to this? And yet, in substance and authority,

York. She and the Dauphin have been juggling: Retain but privilege of a private man?
I did imagine what would be her refuge.

This proffer is absurd and reasonless.
War. Well, go to; we will have no bastards live ; Char. 'Tis known, already that I am possess'd
Especially, since Charles must father it.

With more than half the Gallian territories,
Puc. You are deceiv’d; my child is none of his ; And therein reverenc'd for their lawful king :
It was Alençon that enjoy'd my love.

Shall I, for lucre of the rest unvanquish’d,
York, Alençon! that notorious Machiavel! Detract so much from that prerogative,
It dies, an if it had a thousand lives.

As to be call'd but viceroy of the whole?
Puc. O, give me leave, I have deluded you; No, lord ambassador; I'll rather keep
'Twas neither Charles, nor yet the duke I nam'd, That which I have, than, covering for more,
But Reignier, king of Naples, that prevail'd. Be cast from possibility of all.
War. A married man! that's most intolerable.

York. Insulting Charles! hast thou by secret means
York. Why, here's a girl!I think, she knows not well, Used intercession to obtain a league;
There were so many, whom she may accuse. And, now the matter grows to compromise,

War. It's sign she hath been liberal and free. Stand’st thou aloof upon comparison ?
York. And, yet, forsooth, slie is a virgin pure. - Either accept the title thion usurp'st,
Strumpet, thy words condemn thy brat, and thee:

Of benefit proceeding from our king,
Use no entreaty, for it is in vain.

And not of any challenge of desert,
Puc. Then lead me hepce;—with whom I leave my Or we will plagne thee with incessant wars.

Reig. My lord, you do not well in obstipacy
May never glorions sun reflex his beams

To cavil in the course of this contráct: Upon the country where you make abode!

If once it be neglected, ten to one, But darkness and the gloomy shade of death We shall not find like opportunity. Environ you; till mischief, and despair,

Alen. To say the truth, it is your policy, Drive you to break your necks, or hang yourselves ! To save your subjects from such massacre,

(Exit, guarded. And ruthless slaughters, as are daily seen

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