Mar. I were best 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 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.

[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 enthrall'd? he seems a knight,

[Aside.

h;

And will not any way dishonour me.
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.
[Aside.

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? Mar. To be a queen in bondage, is more vile, Than is a slave in base servility;

For princes should be free,

8

a wooden thing.] Is an aukward business, an undertaking not likely to succeed.

Suf

And so shall 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 scepter in thy hand,

And set a precious crown upon thy head,
If thou wilt condescend to be my-

Mar.

Suf. His love.

What?

Mar. I am unworthy to be Henry's wife. Suf. No, gentle madam; I unworthy am To woo so fair a dame to be his wife, And have no portion in the choice myself. How say 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 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. Reig. To whom?

Suf

Reig.

To me.

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: Consent, (and, for thy honour, give consent,) Thy daughter shall be wedded to my king; Whom I with pain have woo'd and won thereto; And this her easy-held imprisonment

Hath gain'd thy daughter princely liberty.
Reig. Speaks Suffolk as he thinks?
Suf

Fair Margaret knows,

1

That Suffolk doth not flatter, face, or feign.
Reig. Upon thy princely warrant, I descend,
To give thee answer of thy just demand.

[Exit, from the Walls. Suf. And here I will expect thy coming.

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,

To be the princely bride of such a lord;
Upon condition I may quietly

Enjoy mine own, the county Maine, and Anjou,
Free from oppression, or the stroke of war,
My daughter shall be Henry's if he please.
Suf. That is her ransome, I deliver her;
And those two counties, I will undertake,
Your grace shall well and quietly enjoy.

Reig. And I again,-in Henry's royal name,
As deputy unto that gracious king,

Give thee her hand, for sign of plighted faith.

Suf. Reignier of France, I give thee kingly thanks, Because this is in traffick 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,
And make this marriage to be solemniz'd;
So, farewell, Reignier! Set this diamond safe
In golden palaces, as it becomes.

I

[Aside.

Reig. I do embrace thee, as I would embrace

face,] To face is to carry a false appearance: to play the hypocrite.

The Christian prince, king Henry, were he here. Mar. Farewell, my lord! Good wishes, praise, and prayers,

Shall Suffolk ever have of Margaret.

[Going. Suf. Farewell, sweet madam! But hark you, Margaret;

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.

2

[Exeunt REIGNIER and MARGARET. Suf. O, wert thou for myself!-But, Suffolk, stay; Thou may'st not wander in that labyrinth; There Minotaurs, and ugly treasons, lurk. Solicit Henry with her wond'rous praise: Bethink thee on her virtues that surmount; Mad,' natural graces that extinguish art; Repeat their semblance often on the seas, That, when thou com'st to kneel at Henry's feet, Thou may'st bereave him of his wits with wonder.

SCENE IV.

[Exit.

Camp of the Duke of York, in Anjou.
Enter YORK, WARWICK, and Others.

York. Bring forth that sorceress, condemn'd to burn.

2 To send such peevish tokens-] Peevish, for childish.

3 Mad, i. e. wild, if mad be the word that ought to stand here, which some of the commentators doubt.

Enter LA PUCELLE, guarded, and a Shepherd.

Shep. Ah, Joan! this kills thy father's heart out-
right!

Have I sought every country far and near,
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!
Puc. Decrepit miser!" base ignoble wretch!
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 bachelorship.

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 pr'ythee, gentle Joan.

Puc. Peasant, avaunt!-You have suborn'd this man,

Of purpose to obscure my noble birth.

Shep. "Tis true, I gave a noble to the priest,

The morn that I was wedded to her mother.-
Kneel down and take my blessing, good my girl.

timeless -] is untimely.

5 Decrepit miser!] Miser has no relation to avarice in this passage, but simply means a miserable creature.

that thou wilt be so obstacle !] A vulgar corruption of obstinate, which I think has oddly lasted since our author's time till now.

JOHNSON.