[Exit.]
Excursions. Burgundy and York fight hand to hand. The French fly. La Pucelle is taken.
YORK.
Damsel of France, I think I have you fast.
Unchain your spirits now with spelling charms,
And try if they can gain your liberty.
A goodly prize, fit for the devil’s grace!
See, how the ugly witch doth bend her brows,
As if with Circe she would change my shape!
PUCELLE.
Chang’d to a worser shape thou canst not be.
YORK.
O, Charles the Dauphin is a proper man;
No shape but his can please your dainty eye.
PUCELLE.
A plaguing mischief light on Charles and thee!
And may ye both be suddenly surprised
By bloody hands, in sleeping on your beds!
YORK.
Fell banning hag, enchantress, hold thy tongue!
PUCELLE.
I prithee, give me leave to curse awhile.
YORK.
Curse, miscreant, when thou com’st to the stake.
[Exeunt.]