Chapter: ACT V. SCENE 1.

London. The palace

Sennet. Enter the KING, GLOUCESTER, and EXETER

  KING HENRY. Have you perus'd the letters from the Pope,
    The Emperor, and the Earl of Armagnac?
  GLOUCESTER. I have, my lord; and their intent is this:
    They humbly sue unto your Excellence
    To have a godly peace concluded of
    Between the realms of England and of France.
  KING HENRY. How doth your Grace affect their motion?
  GLOUCESTER. Well, my good lord, and as the only means
    To stop effusion of our Christian blood
    And stablish quietness on every side.
  KING HENRY. Ay, marry, uncle; for I always thought
    It was both impious and unnatural
    That such immanity and bloody strife
    Should reign among professors of one faith.
  GLOUCESTER. Beside, my lord, the sooner to effect
    And surer bind this knot of amity,
    The Earl of Armagnac, near knit to Charles,
    A man of great authority in France,
    Proffers his only daughter to your Grace
    In marriage, with a large and sumptuous dowry.
  KING HENRY. Marriage, uncle! Alas, my years are young
    And fitter is my study and my books
    Than wanton dalliance with a paramour.
    Yet call th' ambassadors, and, as you please,
    So let them have their answers every one.
    I shall be well content with any choice
    Tends to God's glory and my country's weal.

                   Enter in Cardinal's habit
        BEAUFORT, the PAPAL LEGATE, and two AMBASSADORS

  EXETER. What! Is my Lord of Winchester install'd
    And call'd unto a cardinal's degree?
    Then I perceive that will be verified
    Henry the Fifth did sometime prophesy:
    'If once he come to be a cardinal,
    He'll make his cap co-equal with the crown.'
  KING HENRY. My Lords Ambassadors, your several suits
    Have been consider'd and debated on.
    Your purpose is both good and reasonable,
    And therefore are we certainly resolv'd
    To draw conditions of a friendly peace,
    Which by my Lord of Winchester we mean
    Shall be transported presently to France.
  GLOUCESTER. And for the proffer of my lord your master,
    I have inform'd his Highness so at large,
    As, liking of the lady's virtuous gifts,
    Her beauty, and the value of her dower,
    He doth intend she shall be England's Queen.
  KING HENRY.  [To AMBASSADOR]  In argument and proof of
    which contract,
    Bear her this jewel, pledge of my affection.
    And so, my Lord Protector, see them guarded
    And safely brought to Dover; where inshipp'd,
    Commit them to the fortune of the sea.

                        Exeunt all but WINCHESTER and the LEGATE
  WINCHESTER. Stay, my Lord Legate; you shall first receive
    The sum of money which I promised
    Should be delivered to his Holiness
    For clothing me in these grave ornaments.
  LEGATE. I will attend upon your lordship's leisure.
  WINCHESTER.  [Aside]  Now Winchester will not submit, I
    trow,
    Or be inferior to the proudest peer.
    Humphrey of Gloucester, thou shalt well perceive
    That neither 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.                   Exeunt



SCENE 2.

                       France. Plains in Anjou

              Enter CHARLES, BURGUNDY, ALENCON, BASTARD,
                   REIGNIER, LA PUCELLE, and forces

  CHARLES. These news, my lords, may cheer our drooping
    spirits:
    'Tis said the stout Parisians do revolt
    And turn again unto the warlike French.
  ALENCON. Then march to Paris, royal Charles of France,
    And keep not back your powers in dalliance.
  PUCELLE. 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 conjoin'd 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.
    Now he is gone, my lord, you need not fear.
  PUCELLE. Of all base passions fear is most accurs'd.
    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





SCENE 3.

                         Before Angiers

              Alarum, excursions. Enter LA PUCELLE

  PUCELLE. 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 speedy and quick appearance argues proof
    Of your accustom'd diligence to me.
    Now, ye familiar spirits that are cull'd
    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 over-long!
    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


          Excursions. Enter French and English, fighting.
         LA PUCELLE and YORK fight hand to hand; LA PUCELLE
                    is taken. The French fly

  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!
    See how the ugly witch doth bend her brows
    As if, with Circe, she would change my shape!
  PUCELLE. 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.
  PUCELLE. A plaguing mischief fight on Charles and thee!
    And may ye both be suddenly surpris'd
    By bloody hands, in sleeping on your beds!
  YORK. Fell banning hag; enchantress, hold thy tongue.
  PUCELLE. I prithee give me leave to curse awhile.
  YORK. Curse, miscreant, when thou comest to the stake.
                                                          Exeunt

          Alarum. Enter SUFFOLK, with MARGARET in his hand

  SUFFOLK. Be what thou wilt, thou art my prisoner.
                                                  [Gazes on her]
    O fairest beauty, do not fear nor fly!
    For I will touch thee but with reverent 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.
  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 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,
    Keeping them prisoner underneath her 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 streams,
    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.
    Fie, de la Pole! disable not thyself;
    Hast 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.
  MARGARET. Say, Earl of Suffolk, if thy name be so,
    What ransom must I pay before I pass?
    For I perceive I am thy prisoner.
  SUFFOLK.  [Aside]  How canst thou tell she will deny thy
    suit,
    Before thou make a trial of her love?
  MARGARET. Why speak'st thou not? What ransom must I
    pay?
  SUFFOLK.  [Aside]  She's beautiful, and therefore to be woo'd;
    She is a woman, therefore to be won.
  MARGARET. Wilt thou accept of ransom--yea or no?
  SUFFOLK.  [Aside]  Fond man, remember that thou hast a
    wife;
    Then how can Margaret be thy paramour?
  MARGARET. I were best leave him, for he will not hear.
  SUFFOLK.  [Aside]  There all is marr'd; there lies a cooling
    card.
  MARGARET. He talks at random; sure, the man is mad.
  SUFFOLK.  [Aside]  And yet a dispensation may be had.
  MARGARET. And yet I would that you would answer me.
  SUFFOLK.  [Aside]  I'll win this Lady Margaret. For whom?
    Why, for my King! Tush, that's a wooden thing!
  MARGARET. He talks of wood. It is some carpenter.
  SUFFOLK.  [Aside]  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.
  MARGARET. Hear ye, Captain--are you not at leisure?
  SUFFOLK.  [Aside]  It shall be so, disdain they ne'er so much.
    Henry is youthful, and will quickly yield.
    Madam, I have a secret to reveal.
  MARGARET.  [Aside]  What though I be enthrall'd? He seems
    a knight,
    And will not any way dishonour me.
  SUFFOLK. Lady, vouchsafe to listen what I say.
  MARGARET.  [Aside]  Perhaps I shall be rescu'd by the French;
    And then I need not crave his courtesy.
  SUFFOLK. Sweet madam, give me hearing in a cause--
  MARGARET.  [Aside]  Tush! women have been captivate ere
    now.
  SUFFOLK. Lady, wherefore talk you so?
  MARGARET. I cry you mercy, 'tis but quid for quo.
  SUFFOLK. Say, gentle Princess, would you not suppose
    Your bondage happy, to be made a queen?
  MARGARET. To be a queen in bondage is more vile
    Than is a slave in base servility;
    For princes should be free.
  SUFFOLK. And so shall you,
    If happy England's royal king be free.
  MARGARET. Why, what concerns his freedom unto me?
  SUFFOLK. I'll undertake to make thee Henry's queen,
    To put a golden sceptre in thy hand
    And set a precious crown upon thy head,
    If thou wilt condescend to be my--
  MARGARET. What?
  SUFFOLK. His love.
  MARGARET. I am unworthy to be Henry's wife.
  SUFFOLK. 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 ye so content?
  MARGARET. An if my father please, I am content.
  SUFFOLK. 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.

           Sound a parley. Enter REIGNIER on the walls

    See, Reignier, see, thy daughter prisoner!
  REIGNIER. To whom?
  SUFFOLK. To me.
  REIGNIER. Suffolk, what remedy?
    I am a soldier and unapt to weep
    Or to exclaim on fortune's fickleness.
  SUFFOLK. 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.
  REIGNIER. Speaks Suffolk as he thinks?
  SUFFOLK. Fair Margaret knows
    That Suffolk doth not flatter, face, or feign.
  REIGNIER. Upon thy princely warrant I descend
    To give thee answer of thy just demand.
                                    Exit REIGNIER from the walls

  SUFFOLK. And here I will expect thy coming.

                Trumpets sound. Enter REIGNIER below

  REIGNIER. Welcome, brave Earl, into our territories;
    Command in Anjou what your Honour pleases.
  SUFFOLK. Thanks, Reignier, happy for so sweet a child,
    Fit to be made companion with a king.
    What answer makes your Grace unto my suit?
  REIGNIER. 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 country Maine and Anjou,
    Free from oppression or the stroke of war,
    My daughter shall be Henry's, if he please.
  SUFFOLK. That is her ransom; I deliver her.
    And those two counties I will undertake
    Your Grace shall well and quietly enjoy.
  REIGNIER. And I again, in Henry's royal name,
    As deputy unto that gracious king,
    Give thee her hand for sign of plighted faith.
  SUFFOLK. Reignier of France, I give thee kingly thanks,
    Because this is in traffic of a king.
    [Aside]  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.
  REIGNIER. I do embrace thee as I would embrace
    The Christian prince, King Henry, were he here.
  MARGARET. Farewell, my lord. Good wishes, praise, and
    prayers,
    Shall Suffolk ever have of Margaret.          [She is going]
  SUFFOLK. Farewell, sweet madam. But hark you, Margaret
    No princely commendations to my king?
  MARGARET. Such commendations as becomes a maid,
    A virgin, and his servant, say to him.
  SUFFOLK. Words sweetly plac'd and modestly directed.
    But, madam, I must trouble you again
    No loving token to his Majesty?
  MARGARET. Yes, my good lord: a pure unspotted heart,
    Never yet taint with love, I send the King.
  SUFFOLK. And this withal.                         [Kisses her]
  MARGARET. That for thyself, I will not so presume
    To send such peevish tokens to a king.
                                    Exeunt REIGNIER and MARGARET
  SUFFOLK. O, wert thou for myself! But, Suffolk, stay;
    Thou mayst not wander in that labyrinth:
    There Minotaurs and ugly treasons lurk.
    Solicit Henry with her wondrous praise.
    Bethink thee on her virtues that surmount,
    And natural graces that extinguish art;
    Repeat their semblance often on the seas,
    That, when thou com'st to kneel at Henry's feet,
    Thou mayst bereave him of his wits with wonder.         Exit





SCENE 4.

                  Camp of the DUKE OF YORK in Anjou

                   Enter YORK, WARWICK, and others

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

              Enter LA PUCELLE, guarded, and a SHEPHERD

  SHEPHERD. Ah, Joan, this kills thy father's heart outright!
    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!
  PUCELLE. Decrepit miser! base ignoble wretch!
    I am descended of a gentler blood;
    Thou art no father nor no friend of mine.
  SHEPHERD. 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 bach'lorship.
  WARWICK. Graceless, wilt thou deny thy parentage?
  YORK. This argues what her kind of life hath been--
    Wicked and vile; and so her death concludes.
  SHEPHERD. Fie, 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 prithee, gentle Joan.
  PUCELLE. Peasant, avaunt! You have suborn'd this man
    Of purpose to obscure my noble birth.
  SHEPHERD. '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.
    Wilt thou not stoop? Now cursed be the time
    Of thy nativity. I would the milk
    Thy mother gave thee when thou suck'dst her breast
    Had been a little ratsbane for thy sake.
    Or else, when thou didst keep my lambs afield,
    I wish some ravenous wolf had eaten thee.
    Dost thou deny thy father, cursed drab?
    O, burn her, burn her! Hanging is too good.             Exit
  YORK. Take her away; for she hath liv'd too long,
    To fill the world with vicious qualities.
  PUCELLE. First let me tell you whom you have condemn'd:
    Not me begotten of a shepherd swain,
    But issued from the progeny of kings;
    Virtuous and holy, chosen from above
    By inspiration of celestial grace,
    To work exceeding miracles on earth.
    I never had to do with wicked spirits.
    But you, that are polluted with your lusts,
    Stain'd with the guiltless blood of innocents,
    Corrupt and tainted with a thousand vices,
    Because you want the grace that others have,
    You judge it straight a thing impossible
    To compass wonders but by help of devils.
    No, misconceived! Joan of Arc hath been
    A virgin from her tender infancy,
    Chaste and immaculate in very thought;
    Whose maiden blood, thus rigorously effus'd,
    Will cry for vengeance at the gates of heaven.
  YORK. Ay, ay. Away with her to execution!
  WARWICK. And hark ye, sirs; because she is a maid,
    Spare for no fagots, let there be enow.
    Place barrels of pitch upon the fatal stake,
    That so her torture may be shortened.
  PUCELLE. Will nothing turn your unrelenting hearts?
    Then, Joan, discover thine infirmity
    That warranteth by law to be thy privilege:
    I am with child, ye bloody homicides;
    Murder not then the fruit within my womb,
    Although ye hale me to a violent death.
  YORK. Now heaven forfend! The holy maid with child!
  WARWICK. The greatest miracle that e'er ye wrought:
    Is all your strict preciseness come to this?
  YORK. She and the Dauphin have been juggling.
    I did imagine what would be her refuge.
  WARWICK. Well, go to; we'll have no bastards live;
    Especially since Charles must father it.
  PUCELLE. You are deceiv'd; my child is none of his:
    It was Alencon that enjoy'd my love.
  YORK. Alencon, that notorious Machiavel!
    It dies, an if it had a thousand lives.
  PUCELLE. O, give me leave, I have deluded you.
    'Twas neither Charles nor yet the Duke I nam'd,
    But Reignier, King of Naples, that prevail'd.
  WARWICK. A married man! That's most intolerable.
  YORK. Why, here's a girl! I think she knows not well
    There were so many--whom she may accuse.
  WARWICK. It's sign she hath been liberal and free.
  YORK. And yet, forsooth, she is a virgin pure.
    Strumpet, thy words condemn thy brat and thee.
    Use no entreaty, for it is in vain.
  PUCELLE. Then lead me hence--with whom I leave my
    curse:
    May never glorious sun reflex his beams
    Upon the country where you make abode;
    But darkness and the gloomy shade of death
    Environ you, till mischief and despair
    Drive you to break your necks or hang yourselves!
                                                   Exit, guarded
  YORK. Break thou in pieces and consume to ashes,
    Thou foul accursed minister of hell!

               Enter CARDINAL BEAUFORT, attended

  CARDINAL. Lord Regent, I do greet your Excellence
    With letters of commission from the King.
    For know, my lords, the states of Christendom,
    Mov'd with remorse of these outrageous broils,
    Have earnestly implor'd a general peace
    Betwixt our nation and the aspiring French;
    And here at hand the Dauphin and his train
    Approacheth, to confer about some matter.
  YORK. Is all our travail turn'd to this effect?
    After the slaughter of so many peers,
    So many captains, gentlemen, and soldiers,
    That in this quarrel have been overthrown
    And sold their bodies for their country's benefit,
    Shall we at last conclude effeminate peace?
    Have we not lost most part of all the towns,
    By treason, falsehood, and by treachery,
    Our great progenitors had conquered?
    O Warwick, Warwick! I foresee with grief
    The utter loss of all the realm of France.
  WARWICK. Be patient, York. If we conclude a peace,
    It shall be with such strict and severe covenants
    As little shall the Frenchmen gain thereby.

        Enter CHARLES, ALENCON, BASTARD, REIGNIER, and others

  CHARLES. Since, lords of England, it is thus agreed
    That peaceful truce shall be proclaim'd in France,
    We come to be informed by yourselves
    What the conditions of that league must be.
  YORK. Speak, Winchester; for boiling choler chokes
    The hollow passage of my poison'd voice,
    By sight of these our baleful enemies.
  CARDINAL. Charles, and the rest, it is enacted thus:
    That, in regard King Henry gives consent,
    Of mere compassion and of lenity,
    To ease your country of distressful war,
    An suffer you to breathe in fruitful peace,
    You shall become true liegemen to his crown;
    And, Charles, upon condition thou wilt swear
    To pay him tribute and submit thyself,
    Thou shalt be plac'd as viceroy under him,
    And still enjoy thy regal dignity.
  ALENCON. Must he be then as shadow of himself?
    Adorn his temples with a coronet
    And yet, in substance and authority,
    Retain but privilege of a private man?
    This proffer is absurd and reasonless.
  CHARLES. 'Tis known already that I am possess'd
    With more than half the Gallian territories,
    And therein reverenc'd for their lawful king.
    Shall I, for lucre of the rest unvanquish'd,
    Detract so much from that prerogative
    As to be call'd but viceroy of the whole?
    No, Lord Ambassador; I'll rather keep
    That which I have than, coveting for more,
    Be cast from possibility of all.
  YORK. Insulting Charles! Hast thou by secret means
    Us'd intercession to obtain a league,
    And now the matter grows to compromise
    Stand'st thou aloof upon comparison?
    Either accept the title thou usurp'st,
    Of benefit proceeding from our king
    And not of any challenge of desert,
    Or we will plague thee with incessant wars.
  REIGNIER.  [To CHARLES]  My lord, you do not well in
    obstinacy
    To cavil in the course of this contract.
    If once it be neglected, ten to one
    We shall not find like opportunity.
  ALENCON.  [To CHARLES]  To say the truth, it is your policy
    To save your subjects from such massacre
    And ruthless slaughters as are daily seen
    By our proceeding in hostility;
    And therefore take this compact of a truce,
    Although you break it when your pleasure serves.
  WARWICK. How say'st thou, Charles? Shall our condition
    stand?
  CHARLES. It shall;
    Only reserv'd, you claim no interest
    In any of our towns of garrison.
  YORK. Then swear allegiance to his Majesty:
    As thou art knight, never to disobey
    Nor be rebellious to the crown of England
    Thou, nor thy nobles, to the crown of England.
                    [CHARLES and the rest give tokens of fealty]
    So, now dismiss your army when ye please;
    Hang up your ensigns, let your drums be still,
    For here we entertain a solemn peace.                 Exeunt

 In the palace in London, Henry enters with Gloucester, Exeter, and other lords. Henry asks if Gloucester has read the letters from the pope. Gloucester says that the pope urges the negotiation of peace between England and France. Henry asks Gloucester what he thinks, and Gloucester suggests it may be the only way to stop the bloodshed. He urges another tie to the French; the Earl of Armagnac, a close relative of Charles, has offered his daughter in marriage. Henry replies that he is young and might be better suited to study than to marriage, but he will take Gloucester's advice. Winchester enters, in the garb of a cardinal, with several messengers from the pope. Exeter wonders to himself how Winchester came to be a cardinal; certainly it means he plans to have more influence over the king. The king tells the papal messengers that he has decided that a friendly peace with France is a good idea, and he means to pursue it immediately. Gloucester tells the messengers that the king has also agreed to a marriage with the Earl of Armagnac's daughter. The court departs, except for Winchester and the main messenger from the pope. Winchester tells the messenger he owes him money for having made him a cardinal. Now he won't have to submit to anyone, he declares, especially not to Gloucester. Charles and his nobles, including Burgundy, Alencon, the Bastard of Orleans, Rene, and Joan, ponder news from Paris that their countrymen there are again swearing their loyalty to England. Alencon urges Charles to march to Paris and clear up the situation. Then, a messenger enters to announce that the two segments of the English army have merged and are preparing to attack the French troops. Joan urges Charles to lead the battle, and she declares he will win. It is now the middle of the battle, and Joan, alone onstage, realizes York is winning. She calls on the spirits that give her signs of coming events; she asks them to appear and to aid her. They arrive, and she asks them to help her win the fight for France. But the fiends refuse to speak to Joan. She reminds them that she has always offered her blood to them in exchange for their help. Yet the demons show no interest in her offerings. Becoming desperate, she offers her soul to them, but they depart. Joan, forsaken by the source of her former powers, declares that France will now surely fall to the English. Burgundy and York fight in hand-to-hand combat offstage. The French flee, and York seizes Joan. Holding her, he tauntingly asks her if her demons can help her now. He calls her an enchantress and a witch, and he takes her away.

