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is.

But tell me whom thou seek’st.

LUCY. But where’s the great Alcides of the field, Valiant Lord Talbot, Earl of Shrewsbury, Created for his rare success in arms

Great Earl of Washford, Waterford, and Valence, Lord Talbot of Goodrig and Urchinfield, Lord Strange of Blackmere, Lord Verdun of Alton, Lord Cromwell of Wingfield, Lord Furnival of Sheffield, The thrice victorious Lord of Falconbridge, Knight of the noble order of Saint George, Worthy Saint Michael, and the Golden Fleece, Great Marshal to Henry the Sixth

Of all his wars within the realm of France?

PUCELLE. Here’s a silly-stately style indeed!

The Turk, that two and fifty kingdoms hath, Writes not so tedious a style as this.

Him that thou magnifi’st with all these tides, Stinking and fly-blown lies here at our feet.

LUCY. Is Talbot slain-the Frenchmen’s only scourge, Your kingdom’s terror and black Nemesis?

O, were mine eye-bans into bullets turn’d, That I in rage might shoot them at your faces!

O that I could but can these dead to life!

It were enough to fright the realm of France.

Were but his picture left amongst you here, It would amaze the proudest of you all.

Give me their bodies, that I may bear them hence And give them burial as beseems their worth.

PUCELLE. I think this upstart is old Talbot’s ghost, He speaks with such a proud commanding spirit.

For God’s sake, let him have them; to keep them here, They would but stink, and putrefy the air.

CHARLES. Go, take their bodies hence.

LUCY. I’ll bear them hence; but from their ashes shall be rear’d

A phoenix that shall make all France afeard.

CHARLES. So we be rid of them, do with them what thou wilt.

And now to Paris in this conquering vein!

All will be ours, now bloody Talbot’s slain. Exeunt

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ACT V. SCENE 1.

 

London. The palace

 

Sennet. Enter the KING, GLOUCESTER, and EXETER

 

KING HENRY. Have you perus’d the letters from the Pope, The Emperor, and the Earl of Armagnac?

GLOUCESTER. I have, my lord; and their intent is this: They humbly sue unto your Excellence

To have a godly peace concluded of

Between the realms of England and of France.

KING HENRY. How doth your Grace affect their motion?

GLOUCESTER. Well, my good lord, and as the only means To stop effusion of our Christian blood And stablish quietness on every side.

KING HENRY. Ay, marry, uncle; for I always thought It was both impious and unnatural

That such immanity and bloody strife

Should reign among professors of one faith.

GLOUCESTER. Beside, my lord, the sooner to effect And surer bind this knot of amity,

The Earl of Armagnac, near knit to Charles, A man of great authority in France,

Proffers his only daughter to your Grace In marriage, with a large and sumptuous dowry.

KING HENRY. Marriage, uncle! Alas, my years are young And fitter is my study and my books

Than wanton dalliance with a paramour.

Yet call th’ ambassadors, and, as you please, So let them have their answers every one.

I shall be well content with any choice Tends to God’s glory and my country’s weal.

 

Enter in Cardinal’s habit BEAUFORT, the PAPAL LEGATE, and two AMBASSADORS

 

EXETER. What! Is my Lord of Winchester install’d And call’d unto a cardinal’s degree?

Then I perceive that will be verified Henry the Fifth did sometime prophesy: ‘If once he come to be a cardinal,

He’ll make his cap co-equal with the crown.’

KING HENRY. My Lords Ambassadors, your several suits Have been consider’d and debated on.

Your purpose is both good and reasonable, And therefore are we certainly resolv’d To draw conditions of a friendly peace, Which by my Lord of Winchester we mean Shall be transported presently to France.

GLOUCESTER. And for the proffer of my lord your master, 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 she shall be England’s Queen.

KING HENRY. [To AMBASSADOR] In argument and proof of which contract,

Bear her this jewel, pledge of my affection.

And so, my Lord Protector, see them guarded And safely brought to Dover; where inshipp’d, Commit them to the fortune of the sea.

 

Exeunt all but WINCHESTER and the LEGATE

WINCHESTER. Stay, my Lord Legate; you shall first receive The sum of money which I promised

Should be delivered to his Holiness

For clothing me in these grave ornaments.

LEGATE. I will attend upon your lordship’s leisure.

WINCHESTER. [Aside] Now Winchester will not submit, I trow,

Or be inferior to the proudest peer.

Humphrey of Gloucester, thou shalt well perceive That neither in birth or for authority The Bishop will be overborne by thee.

I’ll either make thee stoop and bend thy knee, Or sack this country with a mutiny. Exeunt SCENE 2.

 

France. Plains in Anjou Enter CHARLES, BURGUNDY, ALENCON, BASTARD, REIGNIER, LA PUCELLE, and forces CHARLES. These news, my lords, may cheer our drooping spirits:

‘Tis said the stout Parisians do revolt And turn again unto the warlike French.

ALENCON. Then march to Paris, royal Charles of France, And keep not back your powers in dalliance.

PUCELLE. 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!

CHARLES. What tidings send our scouts? I prithee speak.

SCOUT. The English army, that divided was Into two parties, is now conjoin’d in one, And means to give you battle presently.

CHARLES. Somewhat too sudden, sirs, the warning is; But we will presently provide for them.

BURGUNDY. I trust the ghost of Talbot is not there.

Now he is gone, my lord, you need not fear.

PUCELLE. 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.

CHARLES. Then on, my lords; and France be fortunate!

Exeunt

SCENE 3.

 

Before Angiers

 

Alarum, excursions. Enter LA PUCELLE

 

PUCELLE. The Regent conquers and the Frenchmen fly.

Now help, ye charming spells and periapts; And ye choice spirits that admonish me And give me signs of future accidents; [Thunder]

You speedy helpers that are substitutes Under the lordly monarch of the north, Appear and aid me in this enterprise!

 

Enter FIENDS

 

This speedy and quick appearance argues proof Of your accustom’d diligence to me.

Now, ye familiar spirits that are cull’d Out of the powerful regions under earth, 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, 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 redress? My body shall Pay recompense, if you will grant my suit.

[They shake their heads]

Cannot my body nor blood sacrifice

Entreat you to your wonted furtherance?

Then take my soul-my body, soul, and all, Before that England give the French the foil.

[They depart]

See! they forsake me. 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, And hell too strong for me to buckle with.

Now, France, thy glory droopeth to the dust. Exit Excursions. Enter French and English, fighting.

LA PUCELLE and YORK fight hand to hand; LA PUCELLE

is taken. The French fly YORK. Damsel of France, I think I have you fast.

Unchain your spirits 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, she would change my shape!

PUCELLE. 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.

PUCELLE. A plaguing mischief fight 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.

PUCELLE. I prithee give me leave to curse awhile.

YORK. Curse, miscreant, when thou comest to the stake.

Exeunt Alarum. Enter SUFFOLK, with MARGARET in his hand SUFFOLK. Be what thou wilt, thou art my prisoner.

[Gazes on her]

O fairest beauty, do not fear nor fly!

For I will touch thee but with reverent hands; I kiss these fingers for eternal peace, And lay them gently on thy tender side.

Who art thou? Say, that I may honour thee.

MARGARET. Margaret my name, and daughter to a king, The King of Naples-whosoe’er thou art.

SUFFOLK. 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, Keeping them prisoner underneath her wings.

Yet, if this servile usage once offend, Go and be free again as Suffolk’s friend. [She is going]

O, stay! [Aside] I have no power to let her pass; My hand would free her, but my heart says no.

As plays the sun upon the glassy streams, Twinkling another counterfeited beam, So seems 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! disable not thyself; Hast not a tongue? Is she not here thy prisoner?

Wilt thou be daunted at a woman’s sight?

Ay, beauty’s princely majesty is such Confounds the tongue and makes the senses rough.

MARGARET. Say, Earl of Suffolk, if thy name be so, What ransom must I pay before I pass?

For I perceive I am thy prisoner.

SUFFOLK. [Aside] How canst thou tell she will deny thy suit,

Before thou make a trial of her love?

MARGARET. Why speak’st thou not? What ransom must I pay?

SUFFOLK. [Aside] She’s beautiful, and therefore to be woo’d; She is a woman, therefore to be won.

MARGARET. Wilt thou accept of ransom-yea or no?

SUFFOLK. [Aside] Fond man, remember that thou hast a wife;

Then how can Margaret be thy paramour?

MARGARET. I were best leave him, for he will not hear.

SUFFOLK. [Aside] There all is marr’d; there lies a cooling card.

MARGARET. He talks at random; sure, the man is mad.

SUFFOLK. [Aside] And yet a dispensation may be had.

MARGARET. And yet I would that you would answer me.

SUFFOLK. [Aside] I’ll win this Lady Margaret. For whom?

Why, for my King! Tush, that’s a wooden thing!

MARGARET. He talks of wood. It is some carpenter.

SUFFOLK. [Aside] 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.

MARGARET. Hear ye, Captain-are you not at leisure?

SUFFOLK. [Aside] It shall be so, disdain they ne’er so much.

Henry is youthful, and will quickly yield.

Madam, I have a secret to reveal.

MARGARET. [Aside] What though I be enthrall’d? He seems a knight,

And will not any way dishonour me.

SUFFOLK. Lady, vouchsafe to listen what I say.

MARGARET. [Aside]

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