Page 287 - Shakespeare - Vol. 1

Stained with the guiltless blood of innocents,
Corrupt and tainted with a thousand vices, [45]
Because you want the grace that others have,
You judge it straight a thing impossible
To compass wonders but by help of devils.
No, misconceivèd! Joan of Arc hath been
A virgin from her tender infancy, [50]
Chaste, and immaculate in very thought,
Whose maiden blood, thus rigorously effused,
Will cry for vengeance at the gates of heaven.

Y ORK

Ay, ay. - Away with her to execution.

WARWICK

And hark ye, sirs: because she is a maid, [55]
Spare for no faggots; let there be enow.
Place barrels of pitch upon the fatal stake
That so her torture may be shortenèd.

PUCELLE

Will nothing turn your unrelenting hearts?
Then, Joan, discover thine infirmity [60]
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.

Y ORK

Now heaven forfend, the holy maid with child? [65]

WARWICK

[to La Pucelle]
The greatest miracle that e’er ye wrought!
Is all your strict preciseness come to this?

Y ORK

She and the dauphin have been juggling.
I did imagine what would be her refuge.