York

Bring forth that sorceress condemned 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 bachelorship.

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 will 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 suborned 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'st 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 lived too long,

To fill the world with vicious qualities.

Pucelle

First, let me tell you whom you have condemned:

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,

Stained 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.

York

Ay, ay: away with her to execution!

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.

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 deceived; my child is none of his:

It was Alencon that enjoyed 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 named,

But Reignier, king of Naples, that prevailed.

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, Bishop of Winchester, attended.

Cardinal

Lord regent, I do greet your excellence

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;

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,

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 proclaimed 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 poisoned 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,

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 placed 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 possessed

With more than half the Gallian territories,

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

That which I have than, coveting for more,

Be cast from possibility of all.

York

Insulting Charles! hast thou by secret means

Used 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.

Reigner

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 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 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

Nor be rebellious to the crown of England,

Thou, nor thy nobles, to the crown of England.

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.