Henry VI, Act 5. Scene 4

This play, which is divided into three parts, deals with the reign of King Henry VI, whose lack of leadership gave the French their chance to expel the English in the final phase of the Hundred Years War, and whose mental incompetence left England with a power vacuum that resulted in the Wars of the Roses.

In this scene the King does not appear at all. The focus is on Joan, “La Pucelle”, better known today as Joan of Arc, who has just been captured by the English. As Shakespeare presents Joan of Arc, she is not at all heroic. When her father, a humble shepherd, expresses his affection for her and his anxiety about her impending execution she is ashamed to admit that she is of such humble origins and so she pretends she does not know him. Her father is so disgusted by this that even he expresses a wish to see her burned. Next, Joan claims to be a holy virgin. The executioners reply that, since she is so good and holy, they will put more wood on the fire so that her death may be quicker. Finally, Joan tries to convince her executioners to spare her life on the grounds that she is pregnant. But when they press her to name the father of her child she gives first one name and then another. The English laugh at this, saying that this “pure virgin” has had so many lovers that she cannot even be sure which is the father of her child. At the end, she is led away to execution.

SCENE IV. Camp of the YORK in Anjou.Enter YORK, WARWICK, and others

YORK
Bring forth that sorceress condemn'd to burn.

Enter JOAN 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!

JOAN LA PUCELLE
Decrepit miser! base ignoble wretch! decrepit - ugly, deformed
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. prithee - beg you

JOAN LA PUCELLE
Peasant, avaunt! avaunt! - go away!
You have suborn'd this man, suborned -bribed
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! ratsbane - rat poison
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.

JOAN LA PUCELLE
First, let me tell you whom you have condemn'd:
Not me begotten of a shepherd swain, swain - peasant
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: faggots - logs
Place barrels of pitch upon the fatal stake, pitch - cumbustable substance
That so her torture may be shortened.

JOAN LA PUCELLE
Will nothing turn your unrelenting hearts?
Then, Joan, discover thine infirmity, discover - reveal
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.

JOAN LA PUCELLE
You are deceived; my child is none of his:
It was Alencon that enjoy'd my love.

YORK
Alencon! that notorious Machiavel!
It dies, an if it had a thousand lives.

JOAN LA 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.

JOAN LA 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,