Page 277 - Shakespeare - Vol. 1
P. 277
Y ORK
Damsel of France, I think I have you fast: [30]
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 witch doth bend her brows,
As if, with Circe, she would change my shape! [35]
PUCELLE
Changed to a worser shape thou canst not be.
Y ORK
O Charles the dauphin is a proper man:
No shape but his can please your dainty eye.
PUCELLE
A plaguing mischief light on Charles and thee!
And may ye both be suddenly surprised [40]
By bloody hands in sleeping on your beds!
Y ORK
Fell banning hag! Enchantress, hold thy tongue!
PUCELLE
I prithee give me leave to curse awhile.
Y ORK Exeunt.
Curse, miscreant, when thou com’st to the stake.
Alarum. Enter Suffolk with Margaret in his hand.
SUFFOLK Gazes on her.
Be what thou wilt, thou art my prisoner. [45]
O fairest beauty, do not fear nor fly,
For I will touch thee but with reverent hands.
I kiss these fingers for eternal peace
And lay them gently on thy tender side.
Who art thou, say, that I may honour thee? [50]
