First Sol. What does it mean?
Second Sol. What mean!—that she must die,
And some new charge too must be found against her,
Let her but wear this once again, and—
First Sol. Folly!
How's this to tempt her?
Second Sol. How! Do we not hang
The captive linnet who denies to sing,
In sight of his own fields and native woods,
To cheat him into song?
First Sol. A cursed deed
Is this, and 'tis the curse of villany
To be a villain's tool—an honest man
Had ne'er received such charge.
Second Sol. Fool—lay it down.
See what dents are in this breastplate!—observe
How bloody 'tis within: a foul wound.—
First Sol. Peace!
A choking's in my throat, a swelling here
I might mistake for pity, if, damned thought,
Pity and I had not too long been strangers.
The prey comes!—See, the tiger's to his lair!
Enter Beauvais.
Beau. Begone. (Exit Sol.) She hath withstood all former trials.
All fails to move her. Weary hours I've passed
Within her dungeon, urging all arguments,
Painting all horrors, sundry deaths to fright her.
Confession she denies—all ghostly aid,
(Sold though to hell,) and all reproof rejects.
Baffled as yet in each attempt to snare her,
This shall succeed, or be she fiend or woman.
Enter Joan.