WINCHESTER
Now Winchester will not submit, I trow,
Or be inferior to the proudest peer.
Humphrey of Gloucester, thou shalt well perceive
That nor in birth or for authority
The Bishop will be overborne by thee.
I’ll either make thee stoop and bend thy knee,
Or sack this country with a mutiny. ⌈Exit⌉
5.2 Enter Charles the Dauphin ⌈reading a letter⌉, the Dukes of Burgundy and Alençon, the Bastard of Orléans, René Duke of Anjou, and ⌉oan la Pucelle
CHARLES
These news, my lords, may cheer our drooping spirits.
‘Tis said the stout Parisians do revolt
And turn again unto the warlike French.
ALENÇON
Then march to Paris, royal Charles of France,
And keep not back your powers in dalliance.
JOAN
Peace be amongst them if they turn to us;
Else, ruin combat with their palaces!
Enter a Scout
SCOUT
Success unto our valiant general,
And happiness to his accomplices.
CHARLES
What tidings send our scouts? I prithee speak.
SCOUT
The English army, that divided was
Into two parties, is now conjoined in one,
And means to give you battle presently.
CHARLES
Somewhat too sudden, sirs, the warning is;
But we will presently provide for them.
BURGUNDY
I trust the ghost of Talbot is not there.
⌈JOAN⌉
Now he is gone, my lord, you need not fear.
Of all base passions, fear is most accursed.
Command the conquest, Charles, it shall be thine;
Let Henry fret and all the world repine.
CHARLES
Then on, my lords; and France be fortunate! Exeunt
5.3 Alarum. Excursions. Enter Joan la Pucelle
JOAN
The Regent conquers, and the Frenchmen fly.
Now help, ye charming spells and periapts,
And ye choice spirits that admonish me
And give me signs of future accidents.
Thunder
You speedy helpers, that are substitutes
Under the lordly monarch of the north,
Appear, and aid me in this enterprise.
Enter Fiends
This speed and quick appearance argues proof
Of your accustomed diligence to me.
Now, ye familiar spirits that are culled
Out of the powerful regions under earth,
Help me this once, that France may get the field.
They walk and speak not
O, hold me not with silence overlong!
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
Cannot my body nor blood-sacrifice
Entreat you to your wonted furtherance?
Then take my soul—my body, soul, and all—
Before that England give the French the foil.
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. Exit
5.4 Excursions. The Dukes of Burgundy and York fight hand to hand. The French fly. Joan la Pucelle is taken
RICHARD DUKE OF 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!
⌈To his soldiers⌉ See how the ugly witch doth bend her
brows, 5
As if with Circe she would change my shape.
JOAN
Changed to a worser shape thou canst not be.
RICHARD DUKE OF YORK
O, Charles the Dauphin is a proper man.
No shape but his can please your dainty eye.
JOAN
A plaguing mischief light on Charles and thee,
And may ye both be suddenly surprised
By bloody hands in sleeping on your beds!
RICHARD DUKE OF YORK
Fell banning hag, enchantress, hold thy tongue.
JOAN
I prithee give me leave to curse awhile.
RICHARD DUKE OF YORK
Curse, miscreant, when thou comest to the stake.
Exeunt
5.5 Alarum. Enter the Earl of Suffolk with Margaret in his hand
SUFFOLK
Be what thou wilt, thou art my prisoner.
He 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 for eternal peace.
Who art thou? Say, that I may honour thee.
MARGARET
Margaret my name, and daughter to a king,
The King of Naples, whosoe’er thou art.
SUFFOLK
An earl I am, and Suffolk am I called.
Be not offended, nature’s miracle,
Thou art allotted to be ta’en by me.
So doth the swan his downy cygnets save,
Keeping them prisoner underneath his wings.
Yet if this servile usage once offend,
Go, and be free again, as Suffolk’s friend.
She is going
O stay! (Aside) 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 stream,
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.