Camp of the DUKE OF YORK, in Anjou. |
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Enter YORK, WARWICK, and Others. |
York. Bring forth that sorceress, condemn'd to burn. |
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Enter JOAN LA PUCELLE, guarded; and a Shepherd. |
Shep. 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. |
Joan. Decrepit miser! base ignoble wretch! |
I am descended of a gentler blood: |
Thou art no father nor no friend of mine. |
Shep. 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 bachelorship. |
War. Graceless! wilt thou deny thy parentage? |
York. This argues what her kind of life hath been: |
Wicked and vile; and so her death concludes. |
Shep. 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. |
Joan. Peasant, avaunt! You have suborn'd this man, |
Of purpose to obscure my noble birth. |
Shep. '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 a-field |
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. |
Joan. First, let me tell you whom you have condemn'd: |
Not me begotten of a shepherd swain, |
But issu'd 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! |
War. 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. |
Joan. 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 forefend! the holy maid with child! |
War. 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. |
War. Well, go to; we will have no bastards live; |
Especially since Charles must father it. |
Joan. You are deceiv'd; my child is none of his: |
It was Alençon that enjoy'd my love. |
York. Alençon! that notorious Machiavel! |
It dies an if it had a thousand lives. |
Joan. 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. |
War. 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. |
War. 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. |
Joan. 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! |
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Enter CARDINAL BEAUFORT, attended. |
Car. 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. |
War. Be patient, York: if we conclude a peace, |
It shall be with such strict and severe covenants |
As little shall the Frenchmen gain thereby. |
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Enter CHARLES, attended; ALENÇON, the BASTARD OF ORLEANS, REIGNIER, and Others. |
Char. 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. |
Car. 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, |
And 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. |
Alen. 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. |
Char. '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. |
Reig. 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. |
Alen. [Aside 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. |
War. How sayst thou, Charles? shall our condition stand? |
Char. 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, &c., 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. |
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