Other
Read books online » Other » Henry VI, Part I William Shakespeare (books for 7th graders txt) 📖

Book online «Henry VI, Part I William Shakespeare (books for 7th graders txt) 📖». Author William Shakespeare



1 ... 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22
Go to page:
modestly directed.
But madam, I must trouble you again;
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. Kisses her. Margaret

That for thyself: I will not so presume
To send such peevish tokens to a king. Exeunt Reignier and Margaret.

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:
Bethink thee on her virtues that surmount,
And natural graces that extinguish art;
Repeat their semblance often on the seas,
That, when thou comest to kneel at Henry’s feet,
Thou mayst 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. 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 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.

Pucelle

Peasant, avaunt! You have suborn’d 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’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 lived too long,
To fill the world with vicious qualities.

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.

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 Alençon that enjoy’d my love.

York

Alençon! 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 prevail’d.

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 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.

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, Alençon, Bastard, Reignier, and others. Charles

Since, lords of England, it is thus agreed
That peaceful truce shall be proclaim’d in France,
We

1 ... 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22
Go to page:

Free ebook «Henry VI, Part I William Shakespeare (books for 7th graders txt) 📖» - read online now

Comments (0)

There are no comments yet. You can be the first!
Add a comment