Henry VI, Pt. 1
Act III, Scene 3
France. The plains near Rouen.
- Enter Charles, Bastard, Alanson, Pucelle, and forces.
Joan de Pucelle1 - 8
- Dismay not, princes, at this accident,
- Nor grieve that Roan 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 rul’d.
Dauphin of France9 - 11
- We have been guided by thee hitherto,
- And of thy cunning had no diffidence;
- One sudden foil shall never breed distrust.
Bastard of Orléans12 - 13
- Search out thy wit for secret policies,
- And we will make thee famous through the world.
Duke of Alanson14 - 16
- We’ll set thy statue in some holy place,
- And have thee reverenc’d like a blessed saint.
- Employ thee then, sweet virgin, for our good.
Joan de Pucelle17 - 20
- Then thus it must be, this doth Joan devise:
- By fair persuasions, mix’d with sug’red words,
- We will entice the Duke of Burgundy
- To leave the Talbot and to follow us.
Dauphin of France21 - 24
- Ay, marry, sweeting, if we could do that,
- France were no place for Henry’s warriors,
- Nor should that nation boast it so with us,
- But be extirped from our provinces.
Duke of Alanson25 - 26
- Forever should they be expuls’d from France,
- And not have title of an earldom here.
Joan de Pucelle27 - 35
- Your honors 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.
- There goes the Talbot, with his colors spread,
- And all the troops of English after him.
- French march.
- Now in the rearward comes the Duke and his.
- Fortune in favor makes him lag behind.
- Summon a parley, we will talk with him.
- Trumpets sound a parley.
- Enter the Duke of Burgundy and forces.
Dauphin of France36
- A parley with the Duke of Burgundy!
Duke of Burgundy37
- Who craves a parley with the Burgundy?
Joan de Pucelle38
- The princely Charles of France, thy countryman.
Duke of Burgundy39
- What say’st thou, Charles? For I am marching hence.
Dauphin of France40
- Speak, Pucelle, and enchant him with thy words.
Joan de Pucelle41 - 42
- Brave Burgundy, undoubted hope of France,
- Stay, let thy humble handmaid speak to thee.
Duke of Burgundy43
- Speak on, but be not over-tedious.
Joan de Pucelle44 - 57
- Look on thy country, look on fertile France,
- And see the cities and the towns defac’d
- 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 woeful breast.
- O, turn the 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 Burgundy58 - 59
- Either she hath bewitch’d me with her words,
- Or nature makes me suddenly relent.
Joan de Pucelle60 - 77
- Besides, all French and France exclaims on thee,
- Doubting thy birth and lawful progeny.
- Who join’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 Orléans 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 join’st with them will be thy slaughter-men.
- Come, come, return; return, thou wandering lord!
- Charles and the rest will take thee in their arms.
Duke of Burgundy78 - 84
- I am vanquished. These haughty words of hers
- Have batt’red 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 de Pucelle85
- Done like a Frenchman—turn and turn again!
Dauphin of France86
- Welcome, brave Duke, thy friendship makes us fresh.
Bastard of Orléans87
- And doth beget new courage in our breasts.
Duke of Alanson88 - 89
- Pucelle hath bravely play’d her part in this,
- And doth deserve a coronet of gold.
Dauphin of France90 - 91
- Now let us on, my lords, and join our powers,
- And seek how we may prejudice the foe.