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Result number
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Work
The work is either a play, poem, or sonnet. The sonnets
are treated as single work with 154 parts.
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Character
Indicates who said the line. If it's a play or sonnet,
the character name is "Poet."
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Line
Shows where the line falls within the work.
The numbering is not keyed to any copyrighted numbering system found in a volume of
collected works (Arden, Oxford, etc.) The numbering starts at the beginning of the work, and does not
restart for each scene.
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Text
The line's full text, with keywords highlighted
within it, unless highlighting has been disabled by the user.
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1 |
Henry VI, Part I
[I, 2] |
Bastard of Orleans |
242 |
Methinks your looks are sad, your cheer appall'd:
Hath the late overthrow wrought this offence?
Be not dismay'd, for succor is at hand:
A holy maid hither with me I bring,
Which by a vision sent to her from heaven
Ordained is to raise this tedious siege
And drive the English forth the bounds of France.
The spirit of deep prophecy she hath,
Exceeding the nine sibyls of old Rome:
What's past and what's to come she can descry.
Speak, shall I call her in? Believe my words,
For they are certain and unfallible.
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2 |
Henry VI, Part I
[I, 2] |
Charles, King of France |
254 |
Go, call her in.
[Exit BASTARD OF ORLEANS]
But first, to try her skill,
Reignier, stand thou as Dauphin in my place:
Question her proudly; let thy looks be stern:
By this means shall we sound what skill she hath.
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3 |
Henry VI, Part I
[I, 2] |
Reignier |
268 |
She takes upon her bravely at first dash.
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4 |
Henry VI, Part I
[I, 2] |
Joan la Pucelle |
269 |
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 pleased
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 promised and assured success:
In complete glory she reveal'd herself;
And, whereas I was black and swart before,
With those clear rays which she infused on me
That beauty am I bless'd with which you see.
Ask me what question thou canst possible,
And I will answer unpremeditated:
My courage try by combat, if thou darest,
And thou shalt find that I exceed my sex.
Resolve on this, thou shalt be fortunate,
If thou receive me for thy warlike mate.
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5 |
Henry VI, Part I
[I, 2] |
Duke of Alencon |
318 |
Doubtless he shrives this woman to her smock;
Else ne'er could he so long protract his speech.
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6 |
Henry VI, Part I
[I, 5] |
(stage directions) |
576 |
[Here an alarum again: and TALBOT pursueth the]
DAUPHIN, and driveth him: then enter JOAN LA
PUCELLE, driving Englishmen before her, and exit
after them then re-enter TALBOT]
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7 |
Henry VI, Part I
[I, 6] |
Joan la Pucelle |
629 |
Advance our waving colours on the walls;
Rescued is Orleans from the English
Thus Joan la Pucelle hath perform'd her word.
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8 |
Henry VI, Part I
[I, 6] |
Charles, King of France |
645 |
'Tis Joan, not we, by whom the day is won;
For which I will divide my crown with her,
And all the priests and friars in my realm
Shall in procession sing her endless praise.
A statelier pyramis to her I'll rear
Than Rhodope's or Memphis' ever was:
In memory of her when she is dead,
Her ashes, in an urn more precious
Than the rich-jewel'd of Darius,
Transported shall be at high festivals
Before the kings and queens of France.
No longer on Saint Denis will we cry,
But Joan la Pucelle shall be France's saint.
Come in, and let us banquet royally,
After this golden day of victory.
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9 |
Henry VI, Part I
[II, 1] |
Charles, King of France |
740 |
And, for myself, most part of all this night,
Within her quarter and mine own precinct
I was employ'd in passing to and fro,
About relieving of the sentinels:
Then how or which way should they first break in?
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10 |
Henry VI, Part I
[II, 2] |
Messenger |
799 |
The virtuous lady, Countess of Auvergne,
With modesty admiring thy renown,
By me entreats, great lord, thou wouldst vouchsafe
To visit her poor castle where she lies,
That she may boast she hath beheld the man
Whose glory fills the world with loud report.
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11 |
Henry VI, Part I
[II, 2] |
Duke of Burgundy |
805 |
Is it even so? Nay, then, I see our wars
Will turn unto a peaceful comic sport,
When ladies crave to be encounter'd with.
You may not, my lord, despise her gentle suit.
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12 |
Henry VI, Part I
[II, 2] |
Lord Talbot/Earl of Shrewsbury |
809 |
Ne'er trust me then; for when a world of men
Could not prevail with all their oratory,
Yet hath a woman's kindness over-ruled:
And therefore tell her I return great thanks,
And in submission will attend on her.
Will not your honours bear me company?
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13 |
Henry VI, Part I
[II, 3] |
(stage directions) |
825 |
[Enter the COUNTESS and her Porter]
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14 |
Henry VI, Part I
[II, 3] |
Lord Talbot/Earl of Shrewsbury |
859 |
Marry, for that she's in a wrong belief,
I go to certify her Talbot's here.
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15 |
Henry VI, Part I
[III, 2] |
Bastard of Orleans |
1463 |
Here enter'd Pucelle and her practisants;
Now she is there, how will she specify
Where is the best and safest passage in?
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16 |
Henry VI, Part I
[III, 2] |
Reignier |
1466 |
By thrusting out a torch from yonder tower;
Which, once discern'd, shows that her meaning is,
No way to that, for weakness, which she enter'd.
[Enter JOAN LA PUCELLE on the top, thrusting out a]
torch burning]
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17 |
Henry VI, Part I
[III, 2] |
Joan la Pucelle |
1471 |
Behold, this is the happy wedding torch
That joineth Rouen unto her countrymen,
But burning fatal to the Talbotites!
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18 |
Henry VI, Part I
[III, 2] |
Lord Talbot/Earl of Shrewsbury |
1586 |
Thanks, gentle duke. But where is Pucelle now?
I think her old familiar is asleep:
Now where's the Bastard's braves, and Charles his gleeks?
What, all amort? Rouen hangs her head for grief
That such a valiant company are fled.
Now will we take some order in the town,
Placing therein some expert officers,
And then depart to Paris to the king,
For there young Henry with his nobles lie.
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19 |
Henry VI, Part I
[III, 3] |
Joan la Pucelle |
1654 |
Look on thy country, look on fertile France,
And see the cities and the towns defaced
By wasting ruin of the cruel foe.
As looks the mother on her lowly babe
When death doth close his tender dying eyes,
See, see the pining malady of France;
Behold the wounds, the most unnatural wounds,
Which thou thyself hast given her woful breast.
O, turn thy edged sword another way;
Strike those that hurt, and hurt not those that help.
One drop of blood drawn from thy country's bosom
Should grieve thee more than streams of foreign gore:
Return thee therefore with a flood of tears,
And wash away thy country's stained spots.
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20 |
Henry VI, Part I
[III, 3] |
Duke of Burgundy |
1668 |
Either she hath bewitch'd me with her words,
Or nature makes me suddenly relent.
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