Original Text |
Translated Text |
| Source: Folger Shakespeare Library |
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Alarum. Excursions. Enter Joan la Pucelle. PUCELLE
The Regent conquers and the Frenchmen fly.
Now help, you charming spells and periapts,
And you choice spirits that admonish me,
And give me signs of future accidents. Thunder. You speedy helpers, that are substitutes 5
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, you familiar spirits that are culled 10
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 15
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 20
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-plumèd crest 25
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. She exits. | Joan sees the battle is going badly, and she calls on spirits or demons to help her. This is a surprising moment in the play, because up till now the play hasn't offered a lot of clear evidence as to whether Joan talks to demons or not. The English think she's a witch; the French think she's a saint; so far, the language of the play hasn't offered a clear answer. But here, when she calls on fiends, it sounds pretty likely that she's a witch. And it only seems more likely when fiends turn up. The demons walk around but don't say anything. You'd think summoning powerful evil beings to your aid would get some more dramatic action going, so maybe Joan isn't a witch, or maybe she's not as experienced with demons as you'd think from the fact they turn up. She does go on to say that she used to feed them with her blood and that she'd be willing to lop off a body part and give it to them if they help her. Pretty creepy stuff. The demons just hang their heads. Joan offers to repay them with her body, but they still shake their heads no. She even offers her soul, a bigger offer than the body in the time period, but the demons leave.
Joan laments that she is not strong enough in these things, and that France's glory will droop into the dust. |
Excursions. Burgundy and York fight hand to hand.
Burgundy and the French fly as York and English
soldiers capture Joan la Pucelle. YORK
Damsel of France, I think I have you fast. 30
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. 35 PUCELLE
Changed 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 light on Charles and thee,
And may you both be suddenly surprised 40
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 com’st to the stake. They exit. | Fighting continues onstage, which must look awesome—too bad we're just getting the stage direction version. The French are fleeing, and York captures Joan. York definitely thinks Joan is a witch, and says so in no uncertain terms. He compares her to Circe, a witch who turned a bunch of Odysseus's crew into pigs in the Odyssey. He thinks Joan will fail where Circe succeeded, hinting that she might want to change his shape but can't. Joan still has some pluck about her, though, and she says that York couldn't possibly be changed into a worse shape. York taunts her by suggesting she's infatuated with Charles and can't be pleased by any other man's looks. Joan curses them both, so York calls her a hag and enchantress and says that she'll be burned at the stake. |
Alarum. Enter Suffolk with Margaret in his hand. SUFFOLK
Be what thou wilt, thou art my prisoner. 45
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 honor thee. 50 MARGARET
Margaret my name, and daughter to a king,
The King of Naples, whosoe’er thou art. | Meanwhile, Suffolk has captured a very different kind of woman named Margaret. But he seems in danger of falling in love with his prisoner—he starts throwing around courtly language and asking to know who she is so he can honor her. She says her name is Margaret and she's the daughter of the King of Naples. |
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. 55
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. 60
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. 65
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?
Wilt thou be daunted at a woman’s sight?
Ay. Beauty’s princely majesty is such 70
Confounds the tongue and makes the senses rough. | Suffolk introduces himself and keeps up the courtly language, comparing
her to cygnets (or baby swans), sun on glassy streams—all the Hallmark
greetings you can think of. He also plunges himself into contradictions:
He wants to let Margaret go, but he says he can't because his heart
says no; he really wants to woo her, but he's afraid to speak; and when
he finally decides that maybe he can write down how he feels, he says it
would be better to just speak. Actually, he says, her beauty confuses
his tongue. Aside: Suffolk may not be the best relationship model. |
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 75
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 wooed;
She is a woman, therefore to be won. MARGARET
Wilt thou accept of ransom, yea or no? 80 | Margaret has more practical things on her mind. She doesn't want to be a prisoner, and she asks what ransom she has to give to get away.
The next part is sadly funny, with Suffolk talking to himself about Margaret and Margaret just trying to get a straight answer about the ransom. |
SUFFOLK, aside
Fond man, remember that thou hast a wife;
Then how can Margaret be thy paramour? MARGARET, aside
I were best to leave him, for he will not hear. SUFFOLK, aside
There all is marred; there lies a cooling card. MARGARET, aside
He talks at random; sure the man is mad. 85 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, aside
He talks of wood. It is some carpenter. 90 | As Suffolk is talking to himself—does she or doesn't she like him?—we find out that he already has a wife. Aside 2: Suffolk really may not be the best relationship model. Finally, Suffolk decides he can have it both ways: He'll woo Margaret, but for the King. Aside 3: Suffolk really may not be the best relationship model. |
SUFFOLK, aside
Yet so my fancy may be satisfied,
And peace establishèd 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, 95
And our nobility will scorn the match. MARGARET
Hear you, 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. 100 | As Suffolk is talking himself into it, he comes up with another objection. The King of Naples is poor, as kings go, and the English nobility won't like that. The King is supposed to marry someone who will add to the wealth, not decrease it. He figures he can solve this. Henry's young, and can be talked into pretty much anything. Poor Margaret has been trying to get Suffolk's attention all this time, and he finally tells her he has a secret to reveal. |
MARGARET, aside
What though I be enthralled, he seems a knight,
And will not any way dishonor me. SUFFOLK
Lady, vouchsafe to listen what I say. MARGARET, aside
Perhaps I shall be rescued by the French,
And then I need not crave his courtesy. 105 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 110
Your bondage happy, to be made a queen? | But now it's Margaret's turn. She keeps talking to herself while Suffolk tries to get her to listen, now that he's finally worked out what he wants to say. Margaret, trying to make the best of a bad situation, tells herself that he seems a knight (and chivalrous), and won't dishonor her. She keeps talking to herself, wondering if the French will rescue her, and recognizing that she's (unfortunately) not the only woman to be captured. Suffolk asks her why she's talking this way (instead of listening to him), and she quite reasonably points out that she's just returning the favor. Finally Suffolk gets to the subject of Margaret and the king. He might have chosen better wording, though—he asks Margaret if she wouldn't think her bondage happy if she were made a queen. Suffolk may not be so great with women… |
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, 115
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 scepter in thy hand
And set a precious crown upon thy head, 120
If thou wilt condescend to be my— | Margaret responds that being a queen in bondage would be even worse than being a regular slave; queens should be free. Yeah, Suffolk's wooing isn't going so well. He sort of saves the situation, or at least keeps it from getting worse, by saying she would be free if the king of England was free. He explains his plan.
He does slip up, though. He says he'll plan to make Margaret Henry's queen and then adds "my." Whoops. |
MARGARET What? SUFFOLK His love. MARGARET
I am unworthy to be Henry’s wife. SUFFOLK
No, gentle madam, I unworthy am 125
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? MARGARET
An if my father please, I am content. SUFFOLK
Then call our captains and our colors forth! 130
A Soldier exits.
And, madam, at your father’s castle walls
We’ll crave a parley to confer with him. | Margaret is quick to pick up on this. Before he can finish the sentence, she says "Huh?"
Suffolk catches himself and says "his love", meaning the King's. Margaret says she's not worthy of being Henry's wife, Suffolk says he's not worthy to woo her to be Henry's wife, and courtly language turns up all round. Margaret does eventually agree to marry Henry, so long as it pleases her father. |
Enter Captains and Trumpets. Sound a parley.
Enter Reignier on the walls. See, Reignier, see thy daughter prisoner! REIGNIER
To whom? SUFFOLK To me. 135 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 Honor give consent, 140
Thy daughter shall be wedded to my king,
Whom I with pain have wooed and won thereto;
And this her easy-held imprisonment
Hath gained thy daughter princely liberty. REIGNIER
Speaks Suffolk as he thinks? 145 | Suffolk parleys with her father, Reignier. Like Margaret earlier, Reignier is pretty businesslike, a contrast to the lovelorn Suffolk. When he finds out that Suffolk has captured his daughter, he basically says, "Let's solve the problem. I'm a soldier. I don't sit around and cry or complain about fortune's fickleness." He's probably hoping Suffolk will just tell him the ransom amount, but Suffolk suggests marrying her to King Henry. |
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. He exits from the walls. SUFFOLK
And here I will expect thy coming. 150 Trumpets sound. Enter Reignier, below. REIGNIER
Welcome, brave earl, into our territories.
Command in Anjou what your Honor 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? 155 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, 160
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 165
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 170
To be mine own attorney in this case.—
I’ll over then to England with this news,
And make this marriage to be solemnized.
So farewell, Reignier; set this diamond safe
In golden palaces, as it becomes. 175 REIGNIER, embracing Suffolk
I do embrace thee, as I would embrace
The Christian prince King Henry, were he here. MARGARET, to Suffolk
Farewell, my lord; good wishes, praise, and prayers
Shall Suffolk ever have of Margaret. She is going, as Reignier exits. | Reignier decides to come down from his walls and talk it over.
He now seems a lot more interested in talking to Suffolk. He agrees to let the King marry his daughter if Reignier can peacefully enjoy two sections of land he sees as his own, Maine and Anjou. That's Maine in France, not Maine like the American state with moose, snow, and blueberries. Suffolk agrees to this deal (oddly without asking Henry or anyone else at the English court) and returns Margaret to her father for the present. |
SUFFOLK
Farewell, sweet madam. But, hark you, Margaret, 180
No princely commendations to my king? MARGARET
Such commendations as becomes a maid,
A virgin, and his servant, say to him. SUFFOLK
Words sweetly placed and modestly directed.
But, madam, I must trouble you again: 185
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. Kiss her. MARGARET
That for thyself. I will not so presume 190
To send such peevish tokens to a king. She exits. | They fix it up and Suffolk heads home to England. But there are lots of hints that he still wants a relationship with Margaret for himself. He leaves a diamond for her, tries to get her to send romantic words or tokens to the king (is Suffolk imagining how much he'd like to hear her say something romantic, even if it's not actually for him?), and kisses her. All in all, maybe not the best way to keep it all focused on business. Margaret says that the kiss will have to be for Suffolk, since she wouldn't send such peevish tokens to a king. This sounds like a rebuke, but is Margaret secretly wishing she could kiss Suffolk legitimately? It's hard to tell. |
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; 195
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. 200 He exits. | But Suffolk leaves us in no doubt of his feelings: He exclaims that he wishes Margaret was his own. Then he stops himself, saying that ugly things lurk in his desire to have Margaret as his own instead of give her to the king. He then sets to work figuring out how to praise her in such a way that Henry will be amazed. |
Enter York, Warwick, Shepherd,
and Pucelle, guarded. YORK
Bring forth that sorceress condemned to burn. | York starts this scene by calling "Bring forth that sorceress condemned
to burn" (5.4.1). Things do not look good for Joan. This scene is an odd
combination of family drama and courtroom scene, with a shepherd who
claims to be Joan's father trying to talk to her, Joan trying to
convince York not to kill her, and York arguing that the English are
right to burn her at the stake. It's pretty intense. |
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? 5
Ah, Joan, sweet daughter Joan, I’ll die with thee. | The shepherd says he's been looking everywhere for Joan, and is
brokenhearted that he's found her about to die. He offers to die with
her, much as Talbot and his son agreed to fight and die together. |
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! 10
I did beget her, all the parish knows;
Her mother liveth yet, can testify
She was the first fruit of my bach’lorship. | This could be a moving, if sad, family scene—but Joan says he isn't her father, or even her friend. She calls him "Decrepit miser, base ignoble wretch" (5.4.7), and insists she's descended from someone noble, not a lowly shepherd. The shepherd insists that he is her father, and everyone in their hometown knows it. |
WARWICK
Graceless, wilt thou deny thy parentage? YORK
This argues what her kind of life hath been, 15
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. 20 PUCELLE
Peasant, avaunt!—You have suborned this man
Of purpose to obscure my noble birth. | Warwick and York are angry with Joan for denying her father, and say her life must have been wicked if she can turn away her parent. The shepherd pleads for Joan to listen to him, but she refuses (she even says "avaunt!"). Then she accuses York of hiring the man to pretend to be Joan's father, so that people won't know she's of 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. 25
Wilt thou not stoop? Now cursèd 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! 30
Or else, when thou didst keep my lambs afield,
I wish some ravenous wolf had eaten thee!
Dost thou deny thy father, cursèd drab?
O burn her, burn her! Hanging is too good. He exits. | The shepherd tries to give Joan his blessing, but when she refuses, he
curses her instead. He gets really angry and finally says that she should get burnt at the stake. So yeah… so much for the
touching family reunion. |
YORK
Take her away, for she hath lived too long 35
To fill the world with vicious qualities. PUCELLE
First, let me tell you whom you have condemned:
Not one begotten of a shepherd swain,
But issued from the progeny of kings,
Virtuous and holy, chosen from above 40
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,
Stained with the guiltless blood of innocents, 45
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, misconceivèd! Joan of Arc hath been 50
A virgin from her tender infancy,
Chaste and immaculate in very thought,
Whose maiden blood, thus rigorously effused,
Will cry for vengeance at the gates of heaven. | York says to take Joan away and kill her, but Joan gives an impressive speech in which she describes how she is descended from kings, virtuous and holy, and chosen by heaven to work miracles on earth. She insists that she never worked with demons, but that the English are so evil they can't imagine miracles coming from a good source. Joan ends with beautiful language insisting on her innocence and the guilt that the English will bear if they burn her. She says that she is a virgin, chaste and pure even in her thoughts, and that her spilled out blood will call for vengeance at the Pearly Gates. |
YORK
Ay, ay.—Away with her to execution. 55 WARWICK
And hark you, sirs: because she is a maid,
Spare for no f*****s; let there be enow.
Place barrels of pitch upon the fatal stake
That so her torture may be shortenèd. PUCELLE
Will nothing turn your unrelenting hearts? 60
Then, Joan, discover thine infirmity,
That warranteth by law to be thy privilege:
I am with child, you bloody homicides.
Murder not then the fruit within my womb,
Although you hale me to a violent death. 65 | York is completely unmoved by this speech. Warwick goes further and actually makes fun of her, saying that since she's a maiden and so innocent, they should make sure the fire is fiercer so she dies faster and doesn't suffer so long. This seems pretty brutal, given the circumstances. Joan truly seems desperate. She then says she's pregnant, and they can't kill her or they'll kill the child along with her. |
YORK
Now heaven forfend, the holy maid with child? WARWICK, to Pucelle
The greatest miracle that e’er you 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. 70 WARWICK
Well, go to, we’ll have no bastards live,
Especially since Charles must father it. PUCELLE
You are deceived; my child is none of his.
It was Alanson that enjoyed my love. YORK
Alanson, that notorious Machiavel? 75
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 named,
But Reignier, King of Naples, that prevailed. WARWICK
A married man? That’s most intolerable. 80 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 Warwick make fun of her, saying if she's a virgin she must have done quite a miracle to get pregnant. Then they accuse her of sleeping with Charles and also say basically that they'd like to kill the child of the Dauphin. Joan keeps changing the name of the father, trying to find someone whose child they'd spare, and they keep giving reasons why they will burn her anyway. York and Warwick almost sound as though they are teasing, which makes the scene even more brutal, since they seriously do plan to kill Joan. It's unclear if they actually think she's pregnant, or if they think she's lying. |
YORK
And yet, forsooth, she is a virgin pure!—
Strumpet, thy words condemn thy brat and thee. 85
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 90
Environ you, till mischief and despair
Drive you to break your necks or hang yourselves. She exits, led by Guards. YORK
Break thou in pieces, and consume to ashes,
Thou foul accursèd minister of hell! | They keep making fun of her and finally tell her not to bother pleading with them, since it will be pointless. She gives up and says they might as well lead her away (to execution). She curses them as she goes, wishing that the sun itself will not shine over their country, and that darkness will drive them to break their necks or hang themselves. It's a pretty terrifying part of the scene, all round. There's so little human kindness and so much violence and cursing. |
Enter Winchester, as Cardinal. WINCHESTER
Lord Regent, I do greet your Excellence 95
With letters of commission from the King.
For know, my lords, the states of Christendom,
Moved with remorse of these outrageous broils,
Have earnestly implored a general peace
Betwixt our nation and the aspiring French; 100
And here at hand the Dauphin and his train
Approacheth to confer about some matter. YORK
Is all our travail turned to this effect?
After the slaughter of so many peers,
So many captains, gentlemen, and soldiers 105
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— 110
Our great progenitors had conquerèd?
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 115
As little shall the Frenchmen gain thereby. | After Joan is taken away, the Cardinal of Winchester comes in and tells York that the King is trying to negotiate a peace deal and the Dauphin is coming to talk. York isn't so excited about peace. He gives a speech saying basically "Did we work so hard for this? Did we lose so many of our best men just to end up with peace? Haven't we lost almost everything our ancestors conquered?" Warwick tells him to be patient and says they can come up with a peace treaty that won't give the French much advantage. |
Enter Charles, Alanson, Bastard,
Reignier, with Attendants. CHARLES
Since, lords of England, it is thus agreed
That peaceful truce shall be proclaimed in France,
We come to be informèd by yourselves
What the conditions of that league must be. 120 YORK
Speak, Winchester, for boiling choler chokes
The hollow passage of my poisoned voice
By sight of these our baleful enemies. WINCHESTER
Charles and the rest, it is enacted thus:
That, in regard King Henry gives consent, 125
Of mere compassion and of lenity,
To ease your country of distressful war
And suffer you to breathe in fruitful peace,
You shall become true liegemen to his crown.
And, Charles, upon condition thou wilt swear 130
To pay him tribute and submit thyself,
Thou shalt be placed as viceroy under him,
And still enjoy thy regal dignity. | Charles comes in to discuss the peace terms, and York tells Winchester he'll have to do the talking, since York is too furious to say anything. Winchester explains the deal: If Charles will proclaim Henry to be his lord, Charles can still run France under Henry's authority. |
ALANSON
Must he be then as shadow of himself—
Adorn his temples with a coronet, 135
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 possessed
With more than half the Gallian territories, 140
And therein reverenced for their lawful king.
Shall I, for lucre of the rest unvanquished,
Detract so much from that prerogative
As to be called but viceroy of the whole?
No, lord ambassador, I’ll rather keep 145
That which I have than, coveting for more,
Be cast from possibility of all. | Alencon and Charles don't think this is such a good deal, given that
Charles already runs a bunch of the French territory on his own. |
YORK
Insulting Charles, hast thou by secret means
Used intercession to obtain a league
And, now the matter grows to compromise, 150
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. 155 REIGNIER, aside 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. ALANSON, aside to Charles
To say the truth, it is your policy 160
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. 165 | York threatens to keep plaguing the French with unending wars unless they agree to the deal. Reignier doesn't think they're likely to do better, and Alencon seems to be coming around to the idea, too. |
WARWICK
How say’st thou, Charles? Shall our condition stand? CHARLES
It shall—only reserved 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 170
Nor be rebellious to the crown of England,
Thou nor thy nobles, to the crown of England. Charles, Alanson, Bastard, and Reignier
swear allegiance to Henry. So, now dismiss your army when you please;
Hang up your ensigns, let your drums be still,
For here we entertain a solemn peace. 175 They exit. | Charles agrees, making one condition (which the English don't bother to argue with), and the peace is made. |