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

Enter Fiends..

This speedy and quick appearance argues proof
Of your accustoin'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 about, 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.

wonted furtherance?

Cannot my body, nor blood-sacrifice,
Entreat

you to your

Then take my soul; my body, soul, and all,

Before that England give the French the foil.

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,

And hell too strong for me to buckle with :-
Now, France, thy glory droopeth to the dust. [Exit.
Alarums. Enter French and English, fighting.
PUCELLE and YORK fight hand to hand. LA PU-
CELLE is taken. The French fly.

LA

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.

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 surpriz'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 MAR

GARET.

Suf. 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,

And lay them gently on thy tender side.

I kiss these fingers [Kissing her hand.] for eternal peace:

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

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,
Keeping them prisoners underneath her wings.
Yet, if this servile usage once offend,

Go, and be free again, as Suffolk's friend.

says-no.

[She turns away as going.
O, stay! I have no power to let her pass;
My hand would free her, but my heart
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 Poole ! 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.

Mar. Say, earl of Suffolk,-if thy name be so,

What ransom must I pay before I pass
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. 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? [Aside.

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 satisfy'd, 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.