The First Part of Henry the Sixth. Уильям Шекспир

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        REIGNIER. She takes upon her bravely at first dash.

        PUCELLE. Dauphin, I am by birth a shepherd's daughter,

          My wit untrain'd in any kind of art.

          Heaven and our Lady gracious hath it pleas'd

          To shine on my contemptible estate.

          Lo, whilst I waited on my tender lambs

          And to sun's parching heat display'd my cheeks,

          God's Mother deigned to appear to me,

          And in a vision full of majesty

          Will'd me to leave my base vocation

          And free my country from calamity

          Her aid she promis'd and assur'd success.

          In complete glory she reveal'd herself;

          And whereas I was black and swart before,

          With those clear rays which she infus'd on me

          That beauty am I bless'd with which you may see.

          Ask me what question thou canst possible,

          And I will answer unpremeditated.

          My courage try by combat if thou dar'st,

          And thou shalt find that I exceed my sex.

          Resolve on this: thou shalt be fortunate

          If thou receive me for thy warlike mate.

        CHARLES. Thou hast astonish'd me with thy high terms.

          Only this proof I'll of thy valour make

          In single combat thou shalt buckle with me;

          And if thou vanquishest, thy words are true;

          Otherwise I renounce all confidence.

        PUCELLE. I am prepar'd; here is my keen-edg'd sword,

          Deck'd with five flower-de-luces on each side,

          The which at Touraine, in Saint Katherine's churchyard,

          Out of a great deal of old iron I chose forth.

        CHARLES. Then come, o' God's name; I fear no woman.

        PUCELLE. And while I live I'll ne'er fly from a man.

                       [Here they fight and JOAN LA PUCELLE overcomes]

        CHARLES. Stay, stay thy hands; thou art an Amazon,

          And fightest with the sword of Deborah.

        PUCELLE. Christ's Mother helps me, else I were too weak.

        CHARLES. 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.

        PUCELLE. 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.

        CHARLES. Meantime look gracious on thy prostrate thrall.

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

        ALENCON. Doubtless he shrives this woman to her smock;

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

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

        ALENCON. He may mean more than we poor men do know;

          These women are shrewd tempters with their tongues.

        REIGNIER. My lord, where are you? What devise you on?

          Shall we give o'er Orleans, or no?

        PUCELLE. Why, no, I say; distrustful recreants!

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

        CHARLES. What she says I'll confirm; we'll fight it out.

        PUCELLE. Assign'd am I to be the English scourge.

          This night the siege assuredly I'll raise.

          Expect Saint Martin's summer, halcyon days,

      Since I have entered into these wars.

          Glory is like a circle in the water,

          Which never ceaseth to enlarge itself

          Till by broad spreading it disperse to nought.

          With Henry's death the English circle ends;

          Dispersed are the glories it included.

          Now am I like that proud insulting ship

          Which Caesar and his fortune bare at once.

        CHARLES. Was Mahomet inspired with a dove?

          Thou with an eagle art inspired then.

          Helen, the mother of great Constantine,

          Nor yet Saint Philip's daughters were like thee.

          Bright star of Venus, fall'n down on the earth,

          How may I reverently worship thee enough?

        ALENCON. Leave off delays, and let us raise the siege.

        REIGNIER. Woman, do what thou canst to save our honours;

          Drive them from Orleans, and be immortaliz'd.

        CHARLES. Presently we'll try. Come, let's away about it.

          No prophet will I trust if she prove false. Exeunt