Speeches (Lines) for Joan la Pucelle in "History of Henry VI, Part I"

Total: 46
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# Act / Scene Speech text
1 I / 2
  • Reignier, is't thou that thinkest to beguile me?
    Where is the Dauphin? Come,...
  • Reignier, is't thou that thinkest to beguile me?
    Where is the Dauphin? Come, come from behind;
    I know thee well, though never seen before.
    Be not amazed, there's nothing hid from me:
    In private will I talk with thee apart.
    Stand back, you lords, and give us leave awhile.
  • Reignier. Fair maid, is't thou wilt do these wondrous feats?

    Joan la Pucelle. Reignier, is't thou that thinkest to beguile me?
    Where is the Dauphin? Come, come from behind;
    I know thee well, though never seen before.
    Be not amazed, there's nothing hid from me:
    In private will I talk with thee apart.
    Stand back, you lords, and give us leave awhile.

2 I / 2
  • Dauphin, I am by birth a shepherd's daughter,
    My wit untrain'd in any kind o...
  • Dauphin, I am by birth a shepherd's daughter,
    My wit untrain'd in any kind of art.
    Heaven and our Lady gracious hath it pleased
    To shine on my contemptible estate:
    Lo, whilst I waited on my tender lambs,
    And to sun's parching heat display'd my cheeks,
    God's mother deigned to appear to me
    And in a vision full of majesty
    Will'd me to leave my base vocation
    And free my country from calamity:
    Her aid she promised and assured success:
    In complete glory she reveal'd herself;
    And, whereas I was black and swart before,
    With those clear rays which she infused on me
    That beauty am I bless'd with which you see.
    Ask me what question thou canst possible,
    And I will answer unpremeditated:
    My courage try by combat, if thou darest,
    And thou shalt find that I exceed my sex.
    Resolve on this, thou shalt be fortunate,
    If thou receive me for thy warlike mate.
  • Reignier. She takes upon her bravely at first dash.

    Joan la Pucelle. Dauphin, I am by birth a shepherd's daughter,
    My wit untrain'd in any kind of art.
    Heaven and our Lady gracious hath it pleased
    To shine on my contemptible estate:
    Lo, whilst I waited on my tender lambs,
    And to sun's parching heat display'd my cheeks,
    God's mother deigned to appear to me
    And in a vision full of majesty
    Will'd me to leave my base vocation
    And free my country from calamity:
    Her aid she promised and assured success:
    In complete glory she reveal'd herself;
    And, whereas I was black and swart before,
    With those clear rays which she infused on me
    That beauty am I bless'd with which you see.
    Ask me what question thou canst possible,
    And I will answer unpremeditated:
    My courage try by combat, if thou darest,
    And thou shalt find that I exceed my sex.
    Resolve on this, thou shalt be fortunate,
    If thou receive me for thy warlike mate.

3 I / 2
  • I am prepared: here is my keen-edged sword,
    Deck'd with five flower-de-luces...
  • I am prepared: here is my keen-edged sword,
    Deck'd with five flower-de-luces on each side;
    The which at Touraine, in Saint Katharine's
    churchyard,
    Out of a great deal of old iron I chose forth.
  • Charles, King of France. Thou hast astonish'd me with thy high terms:
    Only this proof I'll of thy valour make,
    In single combat thou shalt buckle with me,
    And if thou vanquishest, thy words are true;
    Otherwise I renounce all confidence.

    Joan la Pucelle. I am prepared: here is my keen-edged sword,
    Deck'd with five flower-de-luces on each side;
    The which at Touraine, in Saint Katharine's
    churchyard,
    Out of a great deal of old iron I chose forth.

4 I / 2
  • And while I live, I'll ne'er fly from a man.
  • And while I live, I'll ne'er fly from a man.
  • Charles, King of France. Then come, o' God's name; I fear no woman.

    Joan la Pucelle. And while I live, I'll ne'er fly from a man.

5 I / 2
  • Christ's mother helps me, else I were too weak.
  • Christ's mother helps me, else I were too weak.
  • Charles, King of France. Stay, stay thy hands! thou art an Amazon
    And fightest with the sword of Deborah.

    Joan la Pucelle. Christ's mother helps me, else I were too weak.

6 I / 2
  • I must not yield to any rites of love,
    For my profession's sacred from above...
  • I must not yield to any rites of love,
    For my profession's sacred from above:
    When I have chased all thy foes from hence,
    Then will I think upon a recompense.
  • Charles, King of France. Whoe'er helps thee, 'tis thou that must help me:
    Impatiently I burn with thy desire;
    My heart and hands thou hast at once subdued.
    Excellent Pucelle, if thy name be so,
    Let me thy servant and not sovereign be:
    'Tis the French Dauphin sueth to thee thus.

    Joan la Pucelle. I must not yield to any rites of love,
    For my profession's sacred from above:
    When I have chased all thy foes from hence,
    Then will I think upon a recompense.

7 I / 2
  • Why, no, I say, distrustful recreants!
    Fight till the last gasp; I will be y...
  • Why, no, I say, distrustful recreants!
    Fight till the last gasp; I will be your guard.
  • Reignier. My lord, where are you? what devise you on?
    Shall we give over Orleans, or no?

    Joan la Pucelle. Why, no, I say, distrustful recreants!
    Fight till the last gasp; I will be your guard.

8 I / 2
  • Assign'd am I to be the English scourge.
    This night the siege assuredly I'll...
  • Assign'd am I to be the English scourge.
    This night the siege assuredly I'll raise:
    Expect Saint Martin's summer, halcyon days,
    Since I have entered into these wars.
    Glory is like a circle in the water,
    Which never ceaseth to enlarge itself
    Till by broad spreading it disperse to nought.
    With Henry's death the English circle ends;
    Dispersed are the glories it included.
    Now am I like that proud insulting ship
    Which Caesar and his fortune bare at once.
  • Charles, King of France. What she says I'll confirm: we'll fight it out.

    Joan la Pucelle. Assign'd am I to be the English scourge.
    This night the siege assuredly I'll raise:
    Expect Saint Martin's summer, halcyon days,
    Since I have entered into these wars.
    Glory is like a circle in the water,
    Which never ceaseth to enlarge itself
    Till by broad spreading it disperse to nought.
    With Henry's death the English circle ends;
    Dispersed are the glories it included.
    Now am I like that proud insulting ship
    Which Caesar and his fortune bare at once.

9 I / 5
  • Come, come, 'tis only I that must disgrace thee.
  • Come, come, 'tis only I that must disgrace thee.
  • Lord Talbot/Earl of Shrewsbury. Where is my strength, my valour, and my force?
    Our English troops retire, I cannot stay them:
    A woman clad in armour chaseth them.
    [Re-enter JOAN LA PUCELLE]
    Here, here she comes. I'll have a bout with thee;
    Devil or devil's dam, I'll conjure thee:
    Blood will I draw on thee, thou art a witch,
    And straightway give thy soul to him thou servest.

    Joan la Pucelle. Come, come, 'tis only I that must disgrace thee.

10 I / 5
  • Talbot, farewell; thy hour is not yet come:
    I must go victual Orleans forthw...
  • Talbot, farewell; thy hour is not yet come:
    I must go victual Orleans forthwith.
    [A short alarum; then enter the town with soldiers]
    O'ertake me, if thou canst; I scorn thy strength.
    Go, go, cheer up thy hungry-starved men;
    Help Salisbury to make his testament:
    This day is ours, as many more shall be.
  • Lord Talbot/Earl of Shrewsbury. Heavens, can you suffer hell so to prevail?
    My breast I'll burst with straining of my courage
    And from my shoulders crack my arms asunder.
    But I will chastise this high-minded strumpet.

    Joan la Pucelle. Talbot, farewell; thy hour is not yet come:
    I must go victual Orleans forthwith.
    [A short alarum; then enter the town with soldiers]
    O'ertake me, if thou canst; I scorn thy strength.
    Go, go, cheer up thy hungry-starved men;
    Help Salisbury to make his testament:
    This day is ours, as many more shall be.

11 I / 6
  • Advance our waving colours on the walls;
    Rescued is Orleans from the English...
  • Advance our waving colours on the walls;
    Rescued is Orleans from the English
    Thus Joan la Pucelle hath perform'd her word.
  • Lord Talbot/Earl of Shrewsbury. My thoughts are whirled like a potter's wheel;
    I know not where I am, nor what I do;
    A witch, by fear, not force, like Hannibal,
    Drives back our troops and conquers as she lists:
    So bees with smoke and doves with noisome stench
    Are from their hives and houses driven away.
    They call'd us for our fierceness English dogs;
    Now, like to whelps, we crying run away.
    [A short alarum]
    Hark, countrymen! either renew the fight,
    Or tear the lions out of England's coat;
    Renounce your soil, give sheep in lions' stead:
    Sheep run not half so treacherous from the wolf,
    Or horse or oxen from the leopard,
    As you fly from your oft-subdued slaves.
    [Alarum. Here another skirmish]
    It will not be: retire into your trenches:
    You all consented unto Salisbury's death,
    For none would strike a stroke in his revenge.
    Pucelle is enter'd into Orleans,
    In spite of us or aught that we could do.
    O, would I were to die with Salisbury!
    The shame hereof will make me hide my head.

    Joan la Pucelle. Advance our waving colours on the walls;
    Rescued is Orleans from the English
    Thus Joan la Pucelle hath perform'd her word.

12 II / 1
  • Wherefore is Charles impatient with his friend!
    At all times will you have m...
  • Wherefore is Charles impatient with his friend!
    At all times will you have my power alike?
    Sleeping or waking must I still prevail,
    Or will you blame and lay the fault on me?
    Improvident soldiers! had your watch been good,
    This sudden mischief never could have fall'n.
  • Charles, King of France. Is this thy cunning, thou deceitful dame?
    Didst thou at first, to flatter us withal,
    Make us partakers of a little gain,
    That now our loss might be ten times so much?

    Joan la Pucelle. Wherefore is Charles impatient with his friend!
    At all times will you have my power alike?
    Sleeping or waking must I still prevail,
    Or will you blame and lay the fault on me?
    Improvident soldiers! had your watch been good,
    This sudden mischief never could have fall'n.

13 II / 1
  • Question, my lords, no further of the case,
    How or which way: 'tis sure they...
  • Question, my lords, no further of the case,
    How or which way: 'tis sure they found some place
    But weakly guarded, where the breach was made.
    And now there rests no other shift but this;
    To gather our soldiers, scatter'd and dispersed,
    And lay new platforms to endamage them.
    [Alarum. Enter an English Soldier, crying 'A]
    Talbot! a Talbot!' They fly, leaving their
    clothes behind]
  • Charles, King of France. And, for myself, most part of all this night,
    Within her quarter and mine own precinct
    I was employ'd in passing to and fro,
    About relieving of the sentinels:
    Then how or which way should they first break in?

    Joan la Pucelle. Question, my lords, no further of the case,
    How or which way: 'tis sure they found some place
    But weakly guarded, where the breach was made.
    And now there rests no other shift but this;
    To gather our soldiers, scatter'd and dispersed,
    And lay new platforms to endamage them.
    [Alarum. Enter an English Soldier, crying 'A]
    Talbot! a Talbot!' They fly, leaving their
    clothes behind]

14 III / 2
  • These are the city gates, the gates of Rouen,
    Through which our policy must...
  • These are the city gates, the gates of Rouen,
    Through which our policy must make a breach:
    Take heed, be wary how you place your words;
    Talk like the vulgar sort of market men
    That come to gather money for their corn.
    If we have entrance, as I hope we shall,
    And that we find the slothful watch but weak,
    I'll by a sign give notice to our friends,
    That Charles the Dauphin may encounter them.
  • Duke of Exeter. Ay, we may march in England or in France,
    Not seeing what is likely to ensue.
    This late dissension grown betwixt the peers
    Burns under feigned ashes of forged love
    And will at last break out into a flame:
    As fester'd members rot but by degree,
    Till bones and flesh and sinews fall away,
    So will this base and envious discord breed.
    And now I fear that fatal prophecy
    Which in the time of Henry named the Fifth
    Was in the mouth of every sucking babe;
    That Henry born at Monmouth should win all
    And Henry born at Windsor lose all:
    Which is so plain that Exeter doth wish
    His days may finish ere that hapless time.

    Joan la Pucelle. These are the city gates, the gates of Rouen,
    Through which our policy must make a breach:
    Take heed, be wary how you place your words;
    Talk like the vulgar sort of market men
    That come to gather money for their corn.
    If we have entrance, as I hope we shall,
    And that we find the slothful watch but weak,
    I'll by a sign give notice to our friends,
    That Charles the Dauphin may encounter them.

15 III / 2
  • Paysans, pauvres gens de France;
    Poor market folks that come to sell their c...
  • Paysans, pauvres gens de France;
    Poor market folks that come to sell their corn.
  • Watch. [Within] Qui est la?

    Joan la Pucelle. Paysans, pauvres gens de France;
    Poor market folks that come to sell their corn.

16 III / 2
  • Now, Rouen, I'll shake thy bulwarks to the ground.
    [Exeunt]
    [Enter CHARL...
  • Now, Rouen, I'll shake thy bulwarks to the ground.
    [Exeunt]
    [Enter CHARLES, the BASTARD OF ORLEANS, ALENCON,]
    REIGNIER, and forces]
  • Watch. Enter, go in; the market bell is rung.

    Joan la Pucelle. Now, Rouen, I'll shake thy bulwarks to the ground.
    [Exeunt]
    [Enter CHARLES, the BASTARD OF ORLEANS, ALENCON,]
    REIGNIER, and forces]

17 III / 2
  • Behold, this is the happy wedding torch
    That joineth Rouen unto her countrym...
  • Behold, this is the happy wedding torch
    That joineth Rouen unto her countrymen,
    But burning fatal to the Talbotites!
  • Reignier. By thrusting out a torch from yonder tower;
    Which, once discern'd, shows that her meaning is,
    No way to that, for weakness, which she enter'd.
    [Enter JOAN LA PUCELLE on the top, thrusting out a]
    torch burning]

    Joan la Pucelle. Behold, this is the happy wedding torch
    That joineth Rouen unto her countrymen,
    But burning fatal to the Talbotites!

18 III / 2
  • Good morrow, gallants! want ye corn for bread?
    I think the Duke of Burgundy...
  • Good morrow, gallants! want ye corn for bread?
    I think the Duke of Burgundy will fast
    Before he'll buy again at such a rate:
    'Twas full of darnel; do you like the taste?
  • Lord Talbot/Earl of Shrewsbury. France, thou shalt rue this treason with thy tears,
    If Talbot but survive thy treachery.
    Pucelle, that witch, that damned sorceress,
    Hath wrought this hellish mischief unawares,
    That hardly we escaped the pride of France.
    [Exit]
    [An alarum: excursions. BEDFORD, brought in sick]
    in a chair. Enter TALBOT and BURGUNDY without:
    within JOAN LA PUCELLE, CHARLES, BASTARD OF ORLEANS,
    ALENCON, and REIGNIER, on the walls]

    Joan la Pucelle. Good morrow, gallants! want ye corn for bread?
    I think the Duke of Burgundy will fast
    Before he'll buy again at such a rate:
    'Twas full of darnel; do you like the taste?

19 III / 2
  • What will you do, good grey-beard? break a lance,
    And run a tilt at death wi...
  • What will you do, good grey-beard? break a lance,
    And run a tilt at death within a chair?
  • Duke of Bedford. O, let no words, but deeds, revenge this treason!

    Joan la Pucelle. What will you do, good grey-beard? break a lance,
    And run a tilt at death within a chair?

20 III / 2
  • Are ye so hot, sir? yet, Pucelle, hold thy peace;
    If Talbot do but thunder,...
  • Are ye so hot, sir? yet, Pucelle, hold thy peace;
    If Talbot do but thunder, rain will follow.
    [The English whisper together in council]
    God speed the parliament! who shall be the speaker?
  • Lord Talbot/Earl of Shrewsbury. Foul fiend of France, and hag of all despite,
    Encompass'd with thy lustful paramours!
    Becomes it thee to taunt his valiant age
    And twit with cowardice a man half dead?
    Damsel, I'll have a bout with you again,
    Or else let Talbot perish with this shame.

    Joan la Pucelle. Are ye so hot, sir? yet, Pucelle, hold thy peace;
    If Talbot do but thunder, rain will follow.
    [The English whisper together in council]
    God speed the parliament! who shall be the speaker?

21 III / 2
  • Belike your lordship takes us then for fools,
    To try if that our own be ours...
  • Belike your lordship takes us then for fools,
    To try if that our own be ours or no.
  • Lord Talbot/Earl of Shrewsbury. Dare ye come forth and meet us in the field?

    Joan la Pucelle. Belike your lordship takes us then for fools,
    To try if that our own be ours or no.

22 III / 2
  • Away, captains! let's get us from the walls;
    For Talbot means no goodness by...
  • Away, captains! let's get us from the walls;
    For Talbot means no goodness by his looks.
    God be wi' you, my lord! we came but to tell you
    That we are here.
  • Lord Talbot/Earl of Shrewsbury. Signior, hang! base muleters of France!
    Like peasant foot-boys do they keep the walls
    And dare not take up arms like gentlemen.

    Joan la Pucelle. Away, captains! let's get us from the walls;
    For Talbot means no goodness by his looks.
    God be wi' you, my lord! we came but to tell you
    That we are here.

23 III / 3
  • Dismay not, princes, at this accident,
    Nor grieve that Rouen is so recovered...
  • Dismay not, princes, at this accident,
    Nor grieve that Rouen is so recovered:
    Care is no cure, but rather corrosive,
    For things that are not to be remedied.
    Let frantic Talbot triumph for a while
    And like a peacock sweep along his tail;
    We'll pull his plumes and take away his train,
    If Dauphin and the rest will be but ruled.
  • Lord Talbot/Earl of Shrewsbury. But yet, before we go, let's not forget
    The noble Duke of Bedford late deceased,
    But see his exequies fulfill'd in Rouen:
    A braver soldier never couched lance,
    A gentler heart did never sway in court;
    But kings and mightiest potentates must die,
    For that's the end of human misery.

    Joan la Pucelle. Dismay not, princes, at this accident,
    Nor grieve that Rouen is so recovered:
    Care is no cure, but rather corrosive,
    For things that are not to be remedied.
    Let frantic Talbot triumph for a while
    And like a peacock sweep along his tail;
    We'll pull his plumes and take away his train,
    If Dauphin and the rest will be but ruled.

24 III / 3
  • Then thus it must be; this doth Joan devise:
    By fair persuasions mix'd with...
  • Then thus it must be; this doth Joan devise:
    By fair persuasions mix'd with sugar'd words
    We will entice the Duke of Burgundy
    To leave the Talbot and to follow us.
  • Duke of Alencon. We'll set thy statue in some holy place,
    And have thee reverenced like a blessed saint:
    Employ thee then, sweet virgin, for our good.

    Joan la Pucelle. Then thus it must be; this doth Joan devise:
    By fair persuasions mix'd with sugar'd words
    We will entice the Duke of Burgundy
    To leave the Talbot and to follow us.

25 III / 3
  • Your honours shall perceive how I will work
    To bring this matter to the wish...
  • Your honours shall perceive how I will work
    To bring this matter to the wished end.
    [Drum sounds afar off]
    Hark! by the sound of drum you may perceive
    Their powers are marching unto Paris-ward.
    [Here sound an English march. Enter, and pass over]
    at a distance, TALBOT and his forces]
    There goes the Talbot, with his colours spread,
    And all the troops of English after him.
    [French march. Enter BURGUNDY and forces]
    Now in the rearward comes the duke and his:
    Fortune in favour makes him lag behind.
    Summon a parley; we will talk with him.
  • Duke of Alencon. For ever should they be expulsed from France
    And not have title of an earldom here.

    Joan la Pucelle. Your honours shall perceive how I will work
    To bring this matter to the wished end.
    [Drum sounds afar off]
    Hark! by the sound of drum you may perceive
    Their powers are marching unto Paris-ward.
    [Here sound an English march. Enter, and pass over]
    at a distance, TALBOT and his forces]
    There goes the Talbot, with his colours spread,
    And all the troops of English after him.
    [French march. Enter BURGUNDY and forces]
    Now in the rearward comes the duke and his:
    Fortune in favour makes him lag behind.
    Summon a parley; we will talk with him.

26 III / 3
  • The princely Charles of France, thy countryman.
  • The princely Charles of France, thy countryman.
  • Duke of Burgundy. Who craves a parley with the Burgundy?

    Joan la Pucelle. The princely Charles of France, thy countryman.

27 III / 3
  • Brave Burgundy, undoubted hope of France!
    Stay, let thy humble handmaid spea...
  • Brave Burgundy, undoubted hope of France!
    Stay, let thy humble handmaid speak to thee.
  • Charles, King of France. Speak, Pucelle, and enchant him with thy words.

    Joan la Pucelle. Brave Burgundy, undoubted hope of France!
    Stay, let thy humble handmaid speak to thee.

28 III / 3
  • Look on thy country, look on fertile France,
    And see the cities and the town...
  • Look on thy country, look on fertile France,
    And see the cities and the towns defaced
    By wasting ruin of the cruel foe.
    As looks the mother on her lowly babe
    When death doth close his tender dying eyes,
    See, see the pining malady of France;
    Behold the wounds, the most unnatural wounds,
    Which thou thyself hast given her woful breast.
    O, turn thy edged sword another way;
    Strike those that hurt, and hurt not those that help.
    One drop of blood drawn from thy country's bosom
    Should grieve thee more than streams of foreign gore:
    Return thee therefore with a flood of tears,
    And wash away thy country's stained spots.
  • Duke of Burgundy. Speak on; but be not over-tedious.

    Joan la Pucelle. Look on thy country, look on fertile France,
    And see the cities and the towns defaced
    By wasting ruin of the cruel foe.
    As looks the mother on her lowly babe
    When death doth close his tender dying eyes,
    See, see the pining malady of France;
    Behold the wounds, the most unnatural wounds,
    Which thou thyself hast given her woful breast.
    O, turn thy edged sword another way;
    Strike those that hurt, and hurt not those that help.
    One drop of blood drawn from thy country's bosom
    Should grieve thee more than streams of foreign gore:
    Return thee therefore with a flood of tears,
    And wash away thy country's stained spots.

29 III / 3
  • Besides, all French and France exclaims on thee,
    Doubting thy birth and lawf...
  • Besides, all French and France exclaims on thee,
    Doubting thy birth and lawful progeny.
    Who joint'st thou with but with a lordly nation
    That will not trust thee but for profit's sake?
    When Talbot hath set footing once in France
    And fashion'd thee that instrument of ill,
    Who then but English Henry will be lord
    And thou be thrust out like a fugitive?
    Call we to mind, and mark but this for proof,
    Was not the Duke of Orleans thy foe?
    And was he not in England prisoner?
    But when they heard he was thine enemy,
    They set him free without his ransom paid,
    In spite of Burgundy and all his friends.
    See, then, thou fight'st against thy countrymen
    And joint'st with them will be thy slaughtermen.
    Come, come, return; return, thou wandering lord:
    Charles and the rest will take thee in their arms.
  • Duke of Burgundy. Either she hath bewitch'd me with her words,
    Or nature makes me suddenly relent.

    Joan la Pucelle. Besides, all French and France exclaims on thee,
    Doubting thy birth and lawful progeny.
    Who joint'st thou with but with a lordly nation
    That will not trust thee but for profit's sake?
    When Talbot hath set footing once in France
    And fashion'd thee that instrument of ill,
    Who then but English Henry will be lord
    And thou be thrust out like a fugitive?
    Call we to mind, and mark but this for proof,
    Was not the Duke of Orleans thy foe?
    And was he not in England prisoner?
    But when they heard he was thine enemy,
    They set him free without his ransom paid,
    In spite of Burgundy and all his friends.
    See, then, thou fight'st against thy countrymen
    And joint'st with them will be thy slaughtermen.
    Come, come, return; return, thou wandering lord:
    Charles and the rest will take thee in their arms.

30 III / 3
  • [Aside] Done like a Frenchman: turn, and turn again!
  • [Aside] Done like a Frenchman: turn, and turn again!
  • Duke of Burgundy. I am vanquished; these haughty words of hers
    Have batter'd me like roaring cannon-shot,
    And made me almost yield upon my knees.
    Forgive me, country, and sweet countrymen,
    And, lords, accept this hearty kind embrace:
    My forces and my power of men are yours:
    So farewell, Talbot; I'll no longer trust thee.

    Joan la Pucelle. [Aside] Done like a Frenchman: turn, and turn again!

31 IV / 7
  • Once I encounter'd him, and thus I said:
    'Thou maiden youth, be vanquish'd b...
  • Once I encounter'd him, and thus I said:
    'Thou maiden youth, be vanquish'd by a maid:'
    But, with a proud majestical high scorn,
    He answer'd thus: 'Young Talbot was not born
    To be the pillage of a giglot wench:'
    So, rushing in the bowels of the French,
    He left me proudly, as unworthy fight.
  • Bastard of Orleans. How the young whelp of Talbot's, raging-wood,
    Did flesh his puny sword in Frenchmen's blood!

    Joan la Pucelle. Once I encounter'd him, and thus I said:
    'Thou maiden youth, be vanquish'd by a maid:'
    But, with a proud majestical high scorn,
    He answer'd thus: 'Young Talbot was not born
    To be the pillage of a giglot wench:'
    So, rushing in the bowels of the French,
    He left me proudly, as unworthy fight.

32 IV / 7
  • Here is a silly stately style indeed!
    The Turk, that two and fifty kingdoms...
  • Here is a silly stately style indeed!
    The Turk, that two and fifty kingdoms hath,
    Writes not so tedious a style as this.
    Him that thou magnifiest with all these titles
    Stinking and fly-blown lies here at our feet.
  • Sir William Lucy. But where's the great Alcides of the field,
    Valiant Lord Talbot, Earl of Shrewsbury,
    Created, for his rare success in arms,
    Great Earl of Washford, Waterford and Valence;
    Lord Talbot of Goodrig and Urchinfield,
    Lord Strange of Blackmere, Lord Verdun of Alton,
    Lord Cromwell of Wingfield, Lord Furnival of Sheffield,
    The thrice-victorious Lord of Falconbridge;
    Knight of the noble order of Saint George,
    Worthy Saint Michael and the Golden Fleece;
    Great marshal to Henry the Sixth
    Of all his wars within the realm of France?

    Joan la Pucelle. Here is a silly stately style indeed!
    The Turk, that two and fifty kingdoms hath,
    Writes not so tedious a style as this.
    Him that thou magnifiest with all these titles
    Stinking and fly-blown lies here at our feet.

33 IV / 7
  • I think this upstart is old Talbot's ghost,
    He speaks with such a proud comm...
  • I think this upstart is old Talbot's ghost,
    He speaks with such a proud commanding spirit.
    For God's sake let him have 'em; to keep them here,
    They would but stink, and putrefy the air.
  • Sir William Lucy. Is Talbot slain, the Frenchmen's only scourge,
    Your kingdom's terror and black Nemesis?
    O, were mine eyeballs into bullets turn'd,
    That I in rage might shoot them at your faces!
    O, that I could but call these dead to life!
    It were enough to fright the realm of France:
    Were but his picture left amongst you here,
    It would amaze the proudest of you all.
    Give me their bodies, that I may bear them hence
    And give them burial as beseems their worth.

    Joan la Pucelle. I think this upstart is old Talbot's ghost,
    He speaks with such a proud commanding spirit.
    For God's sake let him have 'em; to keep them here,
    They would but stink, and putrefy the air.

34 V / 2
  • Peace be amongst them, if they turn to us;
    Else, ruin combat with their pala...
  • Peace be amongst them, if they turn to us;
    Else, ruin combat with their palaces!
  • Duke of Alencon. Then march to Paris, royal Charles of France,
    And keep not back your powers in dalliance.

    Joan la Pucelle. Peace be amongst them, if they turn to us;
    Else, ruin combat with their palaces!

35 V / 2
  • Of all base passions, fear is most accursed.
    Command the conquest, Charles,...
  • Of all base passions, fear is most accursed.
    Command the conquest, Charles, it shall be thine,
    Let Henry fret and all the world repine.
  • Duke of Burgundy. I trust the ghost of Talbot is not there:
    Now he is gone, my lord, you need not fear.

    Joan la Pucelle. Of all base passions, fear is most accursed.
    Command the conquest, Charles, it shall be thine,
    Let Henry fret and all the world repine.

36 V / 3
  • The regent conquers, and the Frenchmen fly.
    Now help, ye charming spells and...
  • 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 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. Re-enter JOAN LA PUCELLE fighting hand]
    to hand with YORK. JOAN LA PUCELLE is taken. The
    French fly]
  • Charles, King of France. Then on, my lords; and France be fortunate!

    Joan la 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 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. Re-enter JOAN LA PUCELLE fighting hand]
    to hand with YORK. JOAN LA PUCELLE is taken. The
    French fly]

37 V / 3
  • Changed to a worser shape thou canst not be.
  • Changed to a worser shape thou canst not be.
  • Richard Plantagenet (Duke of Gloucester). 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 wench doth bend her brows,
    As if with Circe she would change my shape!

    Joan la Pucelle. Changed to a worser shape thou canst not be.

38 V / 3
  • A plaguing mischief light on Charles and thee!
    And may ye both be suddenly s...
  • A plaguing mischief light on Charles and thee!
    And may ye both be suddenly surprised
    By bloody hands, in sleeping on your beds!
  • Richard Plantagenet (Duke of Gloucester). O, Charles the Dauphin is a proper man;
    No shape but his can please your dainty eye.

    Joan la Pucelle. A plaguing mischief light on Charles and thee!
    And may ye both be suddenly surprised
    By bloody hands, in sleeping on your beds!

39 V / 3
  • I prithee, give me leave to curse awhile.
  • I prithee, give me leave to curse awhile.
  • Richard Plantagenet (Duke of Gloucester). Fell banning hag, enchantress, hold thy tongue!

    Joan la Pucelle. I prithee, give me leave to curse awhile.

40 V / 4
  • Decrepit miser! base ignoble wretch!
    I am descended of a gentler blood:
    ...
  • Decrepit miser! base ignoble wretch!
    I am descended of a gentler blood:
    Thou art no father nor no friend of mine.
  • 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!

    Joan la Pucelle. Decrepit miser! base ignoble wretch!
    I am descended of a gentler blood:
    Thou art no father nor no friend of mine.

41 V / 4
  • Peasant, avaunt! You have suborn'd this man,
    Of purpose to obscure my noble...
  • Peasant, avaunt! You have suborn'd this man,
    Of purpose to obscure my noble birth.
  • 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.

    Joan la Pucelle. Peasant, avaunt! You have suborn'd this man,
    Of purpose to obscure my noble birth.

42 V / 4
  • First, let me tell you whom you have condemn'd:
    Not me begotten of a shepher...
  • 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 effused,
    Will cry for vengeance at the gates of heaven.
  • Richard Plantagenet (Duke of Gloucester). Take her away; for she hath lived too long,
    To fill the world with vicious qualities.

    Joan la 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 effused,
    Will cry for vengeance at the gates of heaven.

43 V / 4
  • Will nothing turn your unrelenting hearts?
    Then, Joan, discover thine infirm...
  • 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.
  • Earl of Warwick. And hark ye, sirs; because she is a maid,
    Spare for no faggots, let there be enow:
    Place barrels of pitch upon the fatal stake,
    That so her torture may be shortened.

    Joan la 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.

44 V / 4
  • You are deceived; my child is none of his:
    It was Alencon that enjoy'd my lo...
  • You are deceived; my child is none of his:
    It was Alencon that enjoy'd my love.
  • Earl of Warwick. Well, go to; we'll have no bastards live;
    Especially since Charles must father it.

    Joan la Pucelle. You are deceived; my child is none of his:
    It was Alencon that enjoy'd my love.

45 V / 4
  • O, give me leave, I have deluded you:
    'Twas neither Charles nor yet the duke...
  • O, give me leave, I have deluded you:
    'Twas neither Charles nor yet the duke I named,
    But Reignier, king of Naples, that prevail'd.
  • Richard Plantagenet (Duke of Gloucester). Alencon! that notorious Machiavel!
    It dies, an if it had a thousand lives.

    Joan la Pucelle. O, give me leave, I have deluded you:
    'Twas neither Charles nor yet the duke I named,
    But Reignier, king of Naples, that prevail'd.

46 V / 4
  • Then lead me hence; with whom I leave my curse:
    May never glorious sun refle...
  • 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!
  • Richard Plantagenet (Duke of Gloucester). 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 la 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!

© Copyright 2017-2022 Shakespeare Network - Maximianno Cobra - All rights reserved.

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© Copyright 2017-2022 Shakespeare Network - Maximianno Cobra - All rights reserved.