Page:Henry VI Part 1 (1918) Yale.djvu/24

12  Char. Stay, stay thy hands! thou art an Amazon,

And fightest with the sword of Deborah.

Joan. Christ's mother helps me, else I were too weak.

Char. Whoe'er helps thee, 'tis thou that must help me:

Impatiently I burn with thy desire;

My heart and hands thou hast at once subdu'd.

Excellent Pucelle, if thy name be so,

Let me thy servant and not sovereign be;

'Tis the French Dauphin sueth to thee thus.

Joan. I must not yield to any rites of love,

For my profession's sacred from above:

When I have chased all thy foes from hence,

Then will I think upon a recompense.

Char. Meantime look gracious on thy prostrate thrall.

Reig. My lord, methinks, is very long in talk.

Alen. Doubtless he shrives this woman to her smock;

Else ne'er could he so long protract his speech.

Reig. Shall we disturb him, since he keeps no mean?

Alen. He may mean more than we poor men do know:

These women are shrewd tempters with their tongues.

Reig. My lord, where are you? what devise you on?

Shall we give over Orleans, or no?

Joan. Why, no, I say, distrustful recreants!

Fight till the last gasp; I will be your guard.

 105 sword of Deborah; cf. n.

110 Pucelle; cf. n.

121 mean: moderation 