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Pucel. I think this Upstart is old Talbot's Ghost, He speaks with such a proud commanding Spirit: For God's sake, let him have him; to keep them here, They would but stink, and putrifie che Air.
Char. Go take their Bodies hence. Lucy. I'll bear them hence; but from their Afhes shall be rear'd A Phoenix that shall make all France afear'd.
Char. So weberid of them, do with them what thou wilt: And now to Paris in this Conquering Vein, All will be ours, now bloody Talbot's Nain. [Exeunt.
Enter King Henry, Gloucester, and Exeter.
Glo. I have, my Lord, and their intent is this,
K. Henry. How doth your Grace affect this Motion?
Glo. Well, my good Lord, and as the only means
K. Henry. Ay marry, Uncle, for I always thought
Glo. Belide, my Lord, the sooner to effect,
K. Henry. Marriage, Uncle! alas! my Years are young:
I shall be well content with any choice
Enter Winchester, and three Ambassadors.
X. Henry. My Lords Ambassadors, your several Suits
K. Henry. In Argument and proof of which contract,
Win. Stay, my Lord Legate, you fall first receive
Win. Now Winchester will not fubmit, I trow,
That neither in Birth, or for Authority,
SCENE III. Enter Damplin, Burgundy, Alenfon, Baftard, Reignier,
and Joan la Pucelle, Dau. This Nows, my Lords, may cheer our drooping Tis faid, the stout Parisians do revolt, [Spirits ; And return again unto the warlike French.
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,
Dau. What tidirgs send our Scouts? I prethee spcak.
Scout. The English Army, that divided was Into two Parties, is now conjoin'd in one, And means to give you Battel presently.
Dau. Somewhat too sudden, Sirs, the warning is, But we will presently provide for them.
Burg. I trust the Ghost of Talbot is not there; Now he is gone, my Lord, you need not fear.
Pucel. Of all base Passions, Fear is most accurft. Command the Conquest, Charles, it shall be thine: Let Henry fret, and all the World repine. Dau. Then on,my Lords, and France be fortunate.[Exeunt
Alarm: Excursions. Enter Joan la Pacelle.
ye familiar Spirits, that are culld Out of the powerful Regions under Earth,
grant my Suit.
Help me this once, that France may get the Field:
[They walk and speak nof. Oh hold me not with Şilence over long: Where I was wont to feed
with 1'll lop a Member off, and give it you In earnest of a further Benefit : do condescend to help me now.
[They hang their Heads, No hope to have Redress? My Body shall. Pay recompence,
[They soake their Heads.
[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. [Erit. [Excursions. Pucelle and York fight Hund in Hand.
Pucelle is taken. The French'fly. York. Damsel of France, I think I have
Pucel. Chang'd to worser Shape thou can't not be.
Zork. Oh, Charles the Dauphin is a proper Man, No Shape but his can please your dainty Eye.
Pucel. A plaguing mischiet light on Charles and thee,
York. Fell banning Hag, Inchantress, hold-thy Tongue.
Alarm. Enter Suffolk with Margaret in his Hand. Saf. Be what thou wilt, thou art my Prisoner.
[Gazes on her. Oh fairest Beauty, do not fear, nor fly: For I will touch thee but with reverend 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.
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 callid. Be not offended, Nature's Miracle, Thou art alorted to be ta’en by me: So doth the Swan her downy Cigaets save, Keeping them Prisoners underneath her Wings : Yet if this servile Ufage once offend, Go and be free again, as Suffolk's Friend, [She is going Oh Aay! 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 Beim, So seems this gorgeous Beauty to mine Eyes : Fain would I woe her, yet I dare not speak: I'll call for Pen and Ink, and write my Mind :: Fie. De la Pole, disable not thy self: Haft 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 muft I pay
before I pass ? For 1 perceive I am thy Prisoner.
Suf. How canst thou tell she will deny thy Suit; Before thou make a Trial of her Love?
Mar. Why speak'st thou net? What Ransom mult I pay?
Suf. She's Beautiful; and therefore to be wooed: She is a Woman, therefore to be won.'
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?