Pucel. I think this Upftart is old Talbot's Ghost, He speaks with fuch a proud commanding Spirit: For God's fake, let him have him; to keep them here, They would but ftink, and putrifie the Air. Char. Go take their Bodies hence. Lucy. I'll bear them hence; but from their Afhes fhall be rear'd A Phoenix that shall make all France afear'd. Char. 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 sain, Enter King Henry, Gloucefter, and Exeter. [Exeunt. K. Henry. Have you perus'd the Letters from the Pope, The Emperor, and the Earl of Armagnac? Glo. I have, my Lord, and their Intent is this, They humbly fue unto your Excellence, To have a godly Peace concluded of, Between the Realms of England and of France. K. Henry. How doth your Grace affect this Motion? Glo. Well, my good Lord, and as the only means To stop effufion of our Chriftian Blood, And ftablish quietnefs on every fide. K. Henry. Ay marry, Uncle, for I always thought That fuch Immanity and bloody Strife And furer bind this knot of Amity, Proffers his only Daughter to your Grace In Marriage, with a large and fumptuous Dowry. K. Henry. Marriage, Uncle! alas! my Years are young: And fitter is my Study, and my Books, Than wanton dalliance with a Paramour. L I I fhall be well content with any choice Tends to God's Glory, and my Country's Weal He'll make his Cap coequal with the Crown. K. Henry. My Lords Ambaffadors, your several Suits Have been confider'd and debated on, Your Purpose is both good and reasonable; your Mafter, Glo. And for the Proffer of my Lord K. Henry. In Argument and proof of which Contra&, FExeunt. Win. Stay, my Lord Legate, you fhall first receive The fum of Mony which I promifed Should be delivered to his Holiness, For cloathing me in these grave Ornaments. Legate. I will attend upon your Lordship's leifure. Or be inferior to the proudeft Peer. [Exeunt. SCENE SCENE III. Enter Dauphin, Burgundy, Alenfon, Baftard, Reignier, and Joan la Pucelle. Dau. This News, my Lords, may cheer our drooping Tis faid, the ftout Parifians do revolt, And return again unto the warlike French. [Spirits: Alen. Then march to Paris, Royal Charles of France, And keep not back your Power in dalliance. Pucel. Peace be amongst them, if they turn to us, Elfe Ruin combat with their Palaces. Enter Scout VT Scout. Succefs unto our valiant General, And happiness to his Accomplices. Dan. What tidings fend our Scouts? I prethee speak. Scout. The English Army, that divided was Into two Parties is now conjoin'd in one, And means to give you Battel presently. Dan. Somewhat too fudden, Sirs, the warning is, But we will presently provide for them. Burg. I truft the Ghoft of Talbot is not there; Now he is gone, my Lord, you need not fear. Pucel. Of all bafe Paffions, Fear is most accurst. Command the Conqueft, Charles, it fhall be thine: Let Henry fret, and all the World repine. Daw. Then on, my Lords, and France be fortunate.[Exeuntì Alarm: Excurfions. Enter Joan la Pucelle. Pucel. The Regent conquers, and the Frenchmen fly. Now help ye charming Spells and Periapts, And ye choice Spirits that admonish me, And give me figns of future Accidents. You fpeedy helpers, that are Subftitutes Under the Lordly Monarch of the North, Appear, and aid me in this Enterprize. Enter Fiends. This fpeedy and quick appearance argues proof [Thunder. Hel Help me this once, that France may get the Field. They walk and speak not. Oh hold me not with Silence over long: Where I was wont to feed you with my Blood,CA I 'I'll lop a Member off, and give it you In earnest of a further Benefit: So you do condefcend to help me now. [They hang their Heads No hope to have Redrefs? My Body hall Then take my Soul, my Body, Soul, and all, Before that England give the French the foil. god [They depart. See, they forfake me. Now the time is come, Tranɔ". That France must vail her lofty plumed Craft, I own 01:1 And let her Head fall into England's Laply of an om bai My ancient Incantations are too weak, dwomo2 G And Hell too strong for me to buckle with iw sw !! Now France thy Glory dronpeth to the Duft I. [cit. [Excurfions. Pucelle and York fight Hand in Hand, 3 Pucelle is taken The French fly 10 Jean York. Fell banning Hag, Inchantrefs, hold thy, Tonguer Alarm. Alarm. Enter Suffolk with Margaret in his Hand.. Suf. Be what thou wilt, thou art my Prifoner. [Gazes on her. Oh fairest Beauty, do not fear, nor fly: And lay them gently on thy tender Side.. Mar. Margaret my Name, and Daughter to a King; The King of Naples, whofoe'er thou art. Suf. An Earl I am, and Suffolk am I call'd. [She is going, Be not offended, Nature's Miracle, Haft not a Tongue? Is the not here thy Prifoner? Ay, Beauty's Princely Majefty is fuch, Confounds the Tongue, and makes the Senfes rough. For I perceive I am thy Prifoner. Suf. How can't thou tell fhe will deny thy Suit, Before thou make a Trial of her Love? Mar. Why fpeak'ft thou not? What Ranfom muft I pay? Suf. She's Beautiful; and therefore to be wooed :. She is a Woman, therefore to be won. Mar. Wilt thou accept of Ranfom, yea or no? Suf. Fond Man, remember that thou haft a Wife Then how can Margaret be thy Paramour? L 3 Mar |