'Twas neither Charles, nor yet the duke I nam'd,
But Reignier, King of Naples, that prevail'd.
War. A married man: that's most intolerable.
York. Why, here's a girl! I think she knows not well, 80
There were so many, whom she may accuse.
War. It's sign she hath been liberal and free.
York. And yet, forsooth, she is a virgin pure.
Strumpet, thy words condemn thy brat and thee: 84
Use no entreaty, for it is in vain.
Joan. Then lead me hence; with whom I leave my curse:
May never glorious sun reflex his beams
Upon the country where you make abode; 88
But darkness and the gloomy shade of death
Environ you, till mischief and despair
Drive you to break your necks or hang yourselves!
York. Break thou in pieces and consume to ashes, 92
Thou foul accursed minister of hell!
Enter Cardinal.
Car. Lord regent, I do greet your excellence
With letters of commission from the king.
For know, my lords, the states of Christendom, 96
Mov'd with remorse of these outrageous broils,
Have earnestly implor'd a general peace
Betwixt our nation and the aspiring French;
And here at hand the Dauphin, and his train, 100
Approacheth to confer about some matter.
York. Is all our travail turn'd to this effect?
After the slaughter of so many peers,
87 reflex: cast
