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 awhile. York. Curse, miscreant, when thou comest to the stake. [Exeunt. Alarums. Enter SUFFOLK, leading in Lady MARGARET. Suf. Be what thou wilt, thou art my prisoner. O fairest beauty, do not fear, nor fly; [Gazes on her. 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, [She turns away as going. Hast not a tongue? is she not here thy prisoner? To ban is to curse. STEEVENS. This comparison, made between things which seem sufficiently unlike, is intended to express the softness and delicacy of Lady Margaret's beauty, which de lighted, but did not dazzle; which was bright, but gave no pain by its lustre. JOHNSON [1] Do not represent thyself so weak. To disable the judgment of another was, in that age, the same as to destroy its credit or authority. JOHNSON. Wilt thou be daunted at a woman's sight? Confounds the tongue, and makes the senses rough. 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 ransome must I pay? Suf. She's beautiful; and therefore to be woo'd: She is a woman; therefore to be won. [Aside. e; Mar. Wilt thou accept of ransome, yea, or no? Mar. And yet I would that you would answer me. [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. Mar. What though I be enthral'd? he seems a knight, And will not any way dishonour me. [Aside Suf. Lady, vouchsafe to listen what I say. Mar. Perhaps, I shall be rescu'd by the French; And then I need not crave his courtesy. [Aside. Suf. Sweet madam, give me hearing in a cause Mar. Tush! women have been captivate ere now. [Asi. Suf. Lady, wherefore talk you so ? Mar. I cry you mercy, 'tis but quid for quo. Suf. Say, gentle princess, would you not suppose Your bondage happy, to be made a queen? VOL. VI. H Mar. To be a queen in bondage, is more vile, Suf. And so shall you, If happy England's royal king be free. Mar. Why, what concerns his freedom unto me? And set a precious crown upon thy head, Mar. What? Mar. I am unworthy to be Henry's wife. Suf. Then call our captains, and our colours, forth: And, madam, at your father's castle walls We'll crave a parley, to confer with him. [Troops come forward. A Parley sounded. Enter REIGNIER, on the Walls. Suf. See, Reignier, see, thy daughter prisoner. Suf. To me. Reig. Suffolk, what remedy? I am a soldier; and unapt to weep, Or to exclaim on fortune's fickleness. Suf. Yes, there is remedy enough, my lord: That Suffolk doth not flatter, face, or feign. To give thee answer of thy just demand. [Exit from the Walls. Suf. And here I will expect thy coming. [2] To face is to carry a false appearance; to play the bypocrite. JOHNSON. Trumpets sounded. Enter REIGNIER, below. Reig. Welcome, brave earl, into our territories; Command in Anjou what your honour pleases Suf. Thanks, Reignier, happy for so sweet a child, Fit to be made companion with a king : What answer makes your grace unto my suit? Reig. Since thou dost deign to woo her little worth, Enjoy mine own, the county Maine, and Anjou, Reig. And I again,-in Henry's royal name, Give thee her hand, for sign 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 case. I'll over then to England with this news, So, farewell, Reignier! Set this diamond safe [Aside. Reig. I do embrace thee, as I would embrace The Christian prince, king Henry, were he here. Mar. Farewell, my lord! Good wishes, praise, and prayers, Shall Suffolk ever have of Margaret. Suf. Farewell, sweet madam! But hark No princely commendations to my king? Mar. Such commendations as become a maid, A virgin, and his servant, say to him. Suf. Words sweetly plac'd, and modestly 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 send the king. Suf. And this withal. [Kisses her. Mar. That for thyself;-I will not so presume, To send such peevish tokens to a king. [Ex. REI. & Mar. SCENE IV. [Exit. Camp of the Duke of YORK, in Anjou. Enter York, War- York. Bring forth that sorceress, condemn'd to burn. And, now it is my chance to find thee out, Must I behold thy timeless, cruel death? Ah, Joan, sweet daughter Joan, I'll die with thee! I am descended of a gentler blood; Thou art no father, nor no friend, of mine. Shep. Out, out!-My lords, an please you, 'tis not so; I did beget her, all the parish knows : Her mother liveth yet, can testify She was the first fruit of my bacherloship. War. Graceless! wilt thou deny thy parentage? York. This argues what her kind of life hath been; Wicked and vile; and so her death concludes. Shep. Fye, Joan! that thou wilt be so obstacle!? God knows, thou art a collop of my flesh; And for thy sake have I shed many a tear : Deny me not, I pray thee, gentle Joan. Puc. Peasant, avaunt!-You have suborn'd this man, Of purpose to obscure my noble birth. [5] By the word mad, I believe the poet meant wild or uncultivated. We call a wild girl, to this day, a mad-cap. Mad, in some of the ancient books of gardening, is used of plants which grow rampant and wild. STEEVENS. [6] Miser has here no relation to avarice, but simply means a miserable creature, in which sense it was frequently used by old writers. STEEVENS. [7] A vulgar corruption of obstinate, which I think has oddly lasted since our author's time till now. JOHNSON. J |