FLOSCULI CHELTONIENSES

2

FIRST PART OF

KING HENRY VI.

ACT 3, SC. 3.

DUKE OF BURGUNDY. LA PUCELLE.

BUR. Speak on, but be not over tedious.

Puc. 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 woeful 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!

GREEK IAMBICS.

ΒΟΥΡ. Δοκοῦντα σοὶ λέγοις ἂν, οὐδὲ χρὴ μακράν.

ΠΟΥΚ. Τοὺς καλλικάρπους εἰσόρα τῆς πα

τρίδος

ἀγροὺς, πόλεις τε νηλεῶς πορθουμένας

ἐχθρῶν ἀνοίκτων ὀλεθρίᾳ διαφθορᾷ.

βρέφος δ' ὁποῖα πάντρομος μήτηρ βλέπει θνήσκοντος εὖτ ̓ ἂν νὺξ ἐπ ̓ ὀφθαλμοῖς πέσῃ, τῆς σῆς πατρῴας εἰσίδου νόσον χθονός. αὐτῆς τε τραύματ ̓ οὐδαμῶς φύσιν κάτα ἃ χερσὶν ἀθλίαισιν ἐμβαλὼν ἔχεις. οὐκ ἐς φθόρον, κάκιστε, τοῦδ ̓ ἀκμὴν ξίφους τρέπων ἐπαρκεῖν τοῖς ἐπαρκοῦσιν θέλεις ἐχθροῖς τε μᾶλλον ἢ φίλοις δοῦναι βλάβην; εἷς γὰρ σταλαγμὸς πατρίδος ἐκ κόλπου πεσὼν, μᾶλλον γένοιτ' ἂν, ἴσθι, σοὶ δακρυτέος ἀνδρῶν ὀθνείων ρευμάτων πολλῶν βρότου. πρὸς ταῦτα κλαίων ἀξίοις δακρύμασιν, ἄψορρον ἕρπε, καὶ γὰρ οὐκ ἄλλως σε χρὴ τῆς σῆς καθαίρειν πατρίδος μιάσματα.

BUR. Either she hath bewitch'd me with her

words,

Or nature makes me suddenly relent.

Puc. Besides all French and France exclaims on

thee,

Doubting thy birth and lawful progeny.

Who join'st thou with but with a lordly nation,
Who will not trust thee but for profit's sake?
When Talbot hath set footing once in France,
And fashion'd thee that instrument of ill,
Who then, but English Henry, will be lord,
And thou be thrust out like a fugitive?

Call we to mind, and mark but this, for proof;-
Was not the Duke of Orleans thy foe?
And was he not in England prisoner?
But when they heard he was thine enemy,
They set him free, without his ransom paid,
In spite of Burgundy and all his friends.
See then! thou fight'st against thy countrymen,
And join'st with them will be thy slaughter-men.
Come, come, return; return, thou wandering Lord;
Charles and the rest will take thee in their arms.