Suf. O, wert thou for myself!-But, Suffolk, stay; Thou may'st not wander in that labyrinth; There Minotaurs, and ugly treasons, lurk. Solicit Henry with her wond'rous praise: Bethink thee on her virtues that surmount; Mad, natural graces that extinguish art; Repeat their semblance often on the seas, That, when thou com'st to kneel at Henry's feet, Thou may'st bereave him of his wits with wonder. [Exit. SCENE IV. 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. Shep. Ah, Joan! this kills thy father's heart out right! 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! Puc. 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. Puc. 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, 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. Puc. 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, To work exceeding miracles on earth. Puc. Will nothing turn your unrelenting hearts?— I am with child, ye bloody homicides: 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. Puc. 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. Puc. 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 marry'd 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. Puc. Then lead me hence;-with whom I leave my curse, May never glorious sun reflex his beams Upon the country where you make abode! York. Break thou in pieces, and consume to ashes, Thou foul accursed minister of hell! 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. Enter Charles, attended; Alençon, Bastard, 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, Win. Charles, and the rest, it is enacted thus: |