York here is the play's representative of English military values. But he's also complicit in the peace that negates those values. His rage at the terms shows he understands what's being given away. But he signs anyway.
Bring forth that sorceress condemn’d to burn.
Bring forth that sorceress condemned to burn.
Bring that witch out; she's been sentenced to be burned.
bring witch to burn
Ah, Joan, this kills thy father’s heart outright!
Have I sought every country far and near,
And, now it is my chance to find thee out,
Must I behold thy timeless cruel death?
Ah, Joan, sweet daughter Joan, I’ll die with thee!
Oh, Joan, this is breaking your father's heart completely! I've searched through every land far and wide, And now that I have the chance to find you, Must I watch your cruel, untimely death? Oh, Joan, sweet daughter Joan, I'll die with you!
Joan, this is crushing me completely! I've looked everywhere for you, traveled so far, And now I finally found you, and I have to watch you die like this? Sweet Joan, my daughter, I'm going to die with you!
this is killing me joan i searched everywhere for u now i gotta watch u die im going with u
Pucelle's execution scene reveals her as pure opportunism. She'll claim virginity, then divine inspiration, then pregnancy, then three different fathers — whatever keeps her alive. Her final admission that she'll claim any father to survive shows her stripped of all pretense. She's not a saint or a witch; she's a woman who used the war as a stage to climb.
Decrepit miser, base ignoble wretch!
I am descended of a gentler blood.
Thou art no father nor no friend of mine.
You pathetic, broken-down miser, you base and dishonorable wretch! I am descended from better blood than yours. You are no father and no friend of mine.
You're just a worthless, pathetic old man! I come from noble blood, way better than yours. You're nothing to me—not a father, not a friend.
ur nothing to me im not your daughter im better than u
Out, out! My lords, as please you, ’tis not so;
I did beget her, all the parish knows.
Her mother liveth yet, can testify
She was the first fruit of my bachelorship.
Hold on, my lords, that's not the truth, I swear it! I fathered her—the whole parish knows it. Her mother is still alive and can testify That she was the first child I had as a young man.
No, no, my lords, it's the truth! I did have her! Everyone in the parish knows I'm her father. Her mother is still alive—ask her, she'll tell you That Joan was my first child when I was young.
its true i had her whole parish knows it her mother can prove it
Graceless, wilt thou deny thy parentage?
Shameless girl, will you deny your own parent?
You're shameless, denying your own father like that!
how can u deny ur father
This argues what her kind of life hath been,
Wicked and vile; and so her death concludes.
This shows what her life has been like— Wicked and corrupt; and so her death finishes it.
This proves everything about who she really is— Wicked, evil, and her death is the right ending.
proves shes wicked death is fitting
Fie, Joan, that thou wilt be so obstacle!
God knows thou art a collop of my flesh;
And for thy sake have I shed many a tear.
Deny me not, I prithee, gentle Joan.
Shame on you, Joan, for being so stubborn! God knows you are a piece of my flesh; And for your sake I have shed many tears. Don't refuse me, I ask you gently, Joan.
Joan, why are you being so stubborn? You're my daughter, my own flesh and blood! I've cried so many tears for you. Please, don't deny me, sweet Joan.
ur my child i cried for u please dont deny me
Peasant, avaunt! You have suborn’d this man
Of purpose to obscure my noble birth.
Get away from me, you peasant! You've bribed this man On purpose to hide my noble birth.
Go away from me! You paid him off To pretend to be my father and ruin my reputation.
u paid him off to fake being my dad
’Tis true, I gave a noble to the priest
The morn that I was wedded to her mother.
Kneel down and take my blessing, good my girl.
Wilt thou not stoop? Now cursed be the time
Of thy nativity! I would the milk
Thy mother gave thee when thou suck’dst her breast
Had been a little ratsbane for thy sake!
Or else, when thou didst keep my lambs a-field,
I wish some ravenous wolf had eaten thee!
Dost thou deny thy father, cursed drab?
O, burn her, burn her! Hanging is too good.
It's true, I gave money to the priest The morning that I was married to her mother. Kneel down and take my blessing, my dear girl. Won't you kneel? May you be cursed for your birth date! I wish the milk Your mother gave you when you nursed at her breast Had been poison for you! Or when you were watching my lambs in the field, I wish some hungry wolf had eaten you! Do you deny your father, you cursed girl? Burn her, burn her! Hanging would be too merciful.
I paid the priest money the morning I married your mother. Kneel and take my blessing, girl. Won't you kneel? I curse the day you were born! I wish your mother's milk had been poison for you! When you were tending my sheep, I wish a wild wolf had eaten you! You deny your own father? You're damned! Burn her, burn her! Hanging is too good for her.
i paid for ur birth your mothers milk shoulda been poison a wolf shoulda eaten u burn her burn her
Take her away, for she hath lived too long,
To fill the world with vicious qualities.
Take her away, she has lived too long, She only fills the world with corruption.
Take her away! She's lived long enough, All she does is spread corruption everywhere.
take her away shes lived too long
First, let me tell you whom you have condemn’d:
Not one begotten of a shepherd swain,
But issued from the progeny of kings;
Virtuous and holy, chosen from above,
By inspiration of celestial grace,
To work exceeding miracles on earth.
I never had to do with wicked spirits.
But you, that are polluted with your lusts,
Stain’d with the guiltless blood of innocents,
Corrupt and tainted with a thousand vices,
Because you want the grace that others have,
You judge it straight a thing impossible
To compass wonders but by help of devils.
No, misconceived! Joan of Arc hath been
A virgin from her tender infancy,
Chaste and immaculate in very thought;
Whose maiden blood, thus rigorously effused,
Will cry for vengeance at the gates of heaven.
First, let me tell you who you're condemning: Not someone born from a shepherd's boy, But someone who came from royal blood; Virtuous and pure, chosen from above, By divine grace, To perform extraordinary miracles on earth. I never had anything to do with evil spirits. But you, who are polluted with your lust, Stained with the innocent blood you've spilled, Corrupt and filled with a thousand sins, Because you lack the grace that others have, You immediately decide that miracles must come from devils. No, you're completely wrong! Joan of Arc has been A virgin since her earliest childhood, Chaste and spotless in every thought; Whose virgin blood, now cruelly shed, Will call for vengeance at heaven's gates.
Listen to me: I'm not some shepherd's child. I come from royal blood, chosen by God above, Graced with divine power to work miracles on earth. I've never worked with evil spirits. But you—you're all corrupted by lust, Stained with the blood of innocent people, Filled with a thousand different sins. Because you don't have God's grace, You think the only way to do miracles is through the devil. But you're wrong! I've been a virgin my whole life, Pure and untouched in every way. My innocent blood, spilled today, Will cry out for justice in heaven.
im not a shepherds daughter im from royal blood im pure and chaste im innocent my blood will cry for justice
Ay, ay; away with her to execution!
Yes, yes; take her to her execution!
Yes, yes, get her to the execution!
execute her now
And hark ye, sirs; because she is a maid,
Spare for no faggots, let there be enow.
Place barrels of pitch upon the fatal stake,
That so her torture may be shortened.
And listen, men; because she is a girl, Don't spare the wood, use plenty of it. Stack barrels of tar around the stake, So her torture will be finished quickly.
And listen up, men; since she's a woman, Don't hold back on the wood—pile it high. Stack barrels of tar all around the stake So she burns faster.
pile wood high use lots of tar burn her fast
Will nothing turn your unrelenting hearts?
Then, Joan, discover thine infirmity,
That warranteth by law to be thy privilege:
I am with child, ye bloody homicides.
Murder not then the fruit within my womb,
Although ye hale me to a violent death.
Will nothing change your hearts that won't bend? Then, Joan, reveal your weakness, That the law will protect you for: I am pregnant, you murderers. Don't kill the child inside my womb, Even though you're dragging me to a violent death.
Nothing's going to change your minds? Then Joan, I have to tell you something That the law must protect me for: I'm pregnant, you killers. Don't murder the baby inside me, Even if you're going to kill me.
im pregnant dont kill my baby even if u kill me
Now heaven forfend! The holy maid with child?
Now heaven forbid! The holy girl is with child?
God no! The holy girl is pregnant?
shes pregnant??
The greatest miracle that e’er ye wrought!
Is all your strict preciseness come to this?
The greatest miracle you've ever worked! Has all your strict piety come to this?
That's the greatest miracle you've ever done! So this is where all your holiness has led?
greatest miracle ever your holiness did this
She and the Dauphin have been juggling.
I did imagine what would be her refuge.
She and the Dauphin have been playing around. I guessed this is what she'd resort to.
She and the Dauphin have been together. I should've seen this coming.
dauphin got her pregnant called it
Well, go to; we’ll have no bastards live,
Especially since Charles must father it.
Well then, we won't allow any bastards to live, Especially since the Dauphin will father it.
Well, we're not letting any bastard children live, Especially not the Dauphin's bastard.
no bastards live not his
You are deceived; my child is none of his.
It was Alençon that enjoy’d my love.
You're wrong; the child isn't his. It was Alençon who was my lover.
You're wrong. The baby isn't the Dauphin's. It was Alençon I was with.
not his child alençon's
Alençon, that notorious Machiavel!
It dies and if it had a thousand lives.
Alençon, that famous schemer! The child dies whether it has a thousand lives.
Alençon, that notorious manipulator! The baby dies, no matter what.
baby dies thousand times over
O, give me leave, I have deluded you.
’Twas neither Charles nor yet the Duke I named,
But Reignier, King of Naples, that prevail’d.
Please, let me speak. I've lied to you. It wasn't the Dauphin or the Duke I named, But Reignier, King of Naples, who won me over.
Wait, let me tell you. I lied. It wasn't the Dauphin or Alençon. It was Reignier, King of Naples.
i lied its reignier king of naples
A married man! That’s most intolerable.
A married man! That's very wrong indeed.
A married man! That's even worse!
hes married??
Why, here’s a girl! I think she knows not well—
There were so many—whom she may accuse.
Here's a girl who doesn't even know well—with so many men—whom to accuse.
Look at her! She can't figure out who to blame because she was with too many men.
can't pick which guy
It’s sign she hath been liberal and free.
It's clear she's been generous and easy with herself.
That shows she was pretty free with herself.
shes been loose
And yet, forsooth, she is a virgin pure!
Strumpet, thy words condemn thy brat and thee.
Use no entreaty, for it is in vain.
And yet, look, she claims to be a pure virgin! Your words prove that your bastard child and you are guilty. Don't beg for mercy, it won't work.
Yet she claims to be a virgin! Your words just proved you and your bastard baby are guilty. Don't waste your breath begging.
ur guilty dont beg
Then lead me hence, with whom I leave my curse:
May never glorious sun reflex his beams
Upon the country where you make abode;
But darkness and the gloomy shade of death
Environ you, till mischief and despair
Drive you to break your necks or hang yourselves!
Then lead me away, and I leave behind my curse: May the glorious sun never shine his beams Upon the land where you make your home; But darkness and the gloomy shadow of death Surround you, until suffering and hopelessness Drive you to break your necks or hang yourselves!
Then take me away, and I curse you all: May the sun never shine on the land where you live; May only darkness and death surround you, Until misery and despair drive you to kill yourselves!
i curse u darkness and death u'll kill urselves
Break thou in pieces and consume to ashes,
Thou foul accursed minister of hell!
Break apart and burn to nothing, You foul cursed tool of hell!
Break into pieces and turn to ash, You filthy cursed creature of hell!
burn to ashes cursed devil
Lord Regent, I do greet your Excellence
With letters of commission from the King.
For know, my lords, the states of Christendom,
Moved with remorse of these outrageous broils,
Have earnestly implored a general peace
Betwixt our nation and the aspiring French;
And here at hand the Dauphin and his train
Approacheth to confer about some matter.
Lord Regent, I greet you With letters of authorization from the King. Because, my lords, the nations of Christendom, Moved by regret over these wild conflicts, Have seriously asked for a general peace Between our nation and the ambitious French; And here the Dauphin and his followers Are approaching to discuss some matter.
Lord Regent, I bring you Letters from the King giving me authority. You see, my lords, the Christian nations Are troubled by all this fighting, And they've seriously requested a general peace Between us and France; And the Dauphin and his men Are on their way here to talk about it.
letters from king christendom wants peace dauphin coming to talk
Is all our travail turn’d to this effect?
After the slaughter of so many peers,
So many captains, gentlemen and soldiers,
That in this quarrel have been overthrown
And sold their bodies for their country’s benefit,
Shall we at last conclude effeminate peace?
Have we not lost most part of all the towns,
By treason, falsehood, and by treachery,
Our great progenitors had conquered?
O, Warwick, Warwick! I foresee with grief
The utter loss of all the realm of France.
Is all our hard work for nothing? After killing so many nobles, So many captains, soldiers, and gentlemen, Who died in this war And gave their lives for their country, Shall we finally accept this weak peace? Have we lost most of the towns We had conquered? Our great ancestors had won them. Oh, Warwick, Warwick! I can see with sadness That we will lose all of France.
Is all our fighting for nothing? After all those deaths—nobles, captains, soldiers— Guys who died fighting for their country, Are we going to end up with a weak peace? Have we lost all those towns Our ancestors conquered? Oh Warwick, Warwick! I see it coming: We're going to lose all of France.
all for nothing all those deaths we lost france
Be patient, York; if we conclude a peace,
It shall be with such strict and severe covenants
As little shall the Frenchmen gain thereby.
Be patient, York; if we make a peace deal, It will have strict and harsh terms That won't benefit the French much.
Wait, York; if we agree to peace, The terms will be strict and harsh— The French won't gain anything from it.
well make harsh terms french gains nothing
Since, lords of England, it is thus agreed
That peaceful truce shall be proclaim’d in France,
We come to be informed by yourselves
What the conditions of that league must be.
Since, lords of England, it is this way agreed That peaceful peace will be announced in France, We come to learn from you What the conditions of that agreement must be.
Since, lords of England, you've agreed That a peaceful peace will be announced in France, We're here to find out What conditions come with that agreement.
peace agreed what are the terms
Speak, Winchester, for boiling choler chokes
The hollow passage of my poison’d voice
By sight of these our baleful enemies.
Speak, Winchester, for burning rage is choking The hollow passage of my poisoned voice Just from seeing these hateful enemies.
Winchester, speak for me, because I'm so angry I can barely speak right— Just looking at these hated enemies makes me furious.
im too angry see these enemies lets winchester speak
Charles, and the rest, it is enacted thus:
That, in regard King Henry gives consent,
Of mere compassion and of lenity,
To ease your country of distressful war,
And suffer you to breathe in fruitful peace,
You shall become true liegemen to his crown.
And, Charles, upon condition thou wilt swear
To pay him tribute and submit thyself,
Thou shalt be placed as viceroy under him,
And still enjoy the regal dignity.
ALENÇON.
Must he be then as shadow of himself?
Adorn his temples with a coronet,
And yet, in substance and authority,
Retain but privilege of a private man?
This proffer is absurd and reasonless.
Charles and the rest, here is what is decided: That because King Henry is giving his consent Out of pure compassion and mercy, To save your country from devastating war, And allow you to enjoy peaceful conditions, You must become true loyal subjects to his crown. And Charles, on the condition that you swear To pay him tribute and submit yourself, You will be placed as viceroy under him, And still keep the royal dignity. Alencon: Must he then just be the shadow of himself? Wear a crown on his head, And yet in real power and authority, Have only the rights of a private man? This offer is absurd and makes no sense.
Alright Charles and everyone else, here's the deal: King Henry is being generous here. Out of compassion and to stop this bloodshed, He's offering you peace for your people. In exchange, you all have to swear loyalty to the English crown. Charles, if you agree to pay tribute and submit to the king, You'll become his viceroy - basically his representative. You get to keep your royal title and appearance. Alencon: Wait, hold on. So he's just a puppet? He gets a crown to wear but no actual power? He'd just be a regular guy with a fancy title? This is ridiculous and completely unreasonable.
charles u gotta swear loyalty pay tribute submit to the english u can be viceroy keep ur crown but real power goes to henry alencon: so he's just a puppet? all show no authority? that's absurd
’Tis known already that I am possess’d
With more than half the Gallian territories,
And therein reverenced for their lawful king.
Shall I, for lucre of the rest unvanquish’d,
Detract so much from that prerogative
As to be call’d but viceroy of the whole?
No, lord ambassador, I’ll rather keep
That which I have than, coveting for more,
Be cast from possibility of all.
It's already known that I control More than half the territories in France, And the people respect me as their rightful king. Should I, just to keep the rest unconquered, Give up so much from what I have That I'm called only viceroy of everything? No, ambassador, I'd rather keep What I have now than try for more And lose everything.
Everyone knows I already rule More than half of France, And the people recognize me as their real king. Should I give up that position Just to try to get the rest of France, And end up being called just viceroy of it all? No way, ambassador. I'd rather keep What I have than risk everything trying for more.
i rule half france people know im king i keep what i have risk nothing
Insulting Charles! Hast thou by secret means
Used intercession to obtain a league,
And, now the matter grows to compromise,
Stand’st thou aloof upon comparison?
Either accept the title thou usurp’st,
Of benefit proceeding from our king
And not of any challenge of desert,
Or we will plague thee with incessant wars.
Arrogant Charles! Have you used secret methods To arrange a peace deal, And now that we're close to an agreement, You're hanging back? Either accept the title you now claim, As a gift from our king, Not something you deserve, Or we'll attack you over and over again.
Arrogant Charles! You used secret methods To set up this peace deal, And now that we're almost there, You're holding back? Either accept what the king's offering— As a gift, not something you earned— Or we'll attack you repeatedly.
take the deal or we attack forever
My lord, you do not well in obstinacy
To cavil in the course of this contract.
If once it be neglected, ten to one
We shall not find like opportunity.
ALENÇON.
To say the truth, it is your policy
To save your subjects from such massacre
And ruthless slaughters as are daily seen
By our proceeding in hostility;
And therefore take this compact of a truce,
Although you break it when your pleasure serves.
My lord, you're not doing well being stubborn About the details of this agreement. If we ignore it now, nine to one We won't get such an opportunity again. ALENÇON. To be honest, it's your strategy To save your people from such slaughter And brutal killing as we see every day From our ongoing fighting; So take this peace agreement, Even if you'll break it when you want to.
My lord, you shouldn't be so stubborn About this agreement. If we pass this up now, we probably won't Get another chance like this. ALENÇON. Honestly, your whole point is To save your people from all this killing And bloodshed we see happening every day Because of the war; So take this peace agreement, Even if you plan to break it later.
dont waste this chance take the peace we can break it later
How say’st thou, Charles? Shall our condition stand?
What do you say, Charles? Do you agree to our terms?
So what about it, Charles? Will you agree to this?
u in or out charles
It shall; only reserv’d you claim no interest
In any of our towns of garrison.
Yes; only I keep the claim To any of my fortified towns.
Yes, but I keep control of my fortified cities.
yes but i keep my cities
Then swear allegiance to his Majesty,
As thou art knight, never to disobey
Nor be rebellious to the crown of England,
Thou, nor thy nobles, to the crown of England.
Then swear loyalty to his Majesty, As you are a knight, never to disobey Or rebel against the crown of England, Neither you nor your nobles, to the crown of England.
Then swear loyalty to the King, As a knight, to never disobey Or rebel against England's crown— You and all your nobles.
swear to king no rebellion you and your nobles
So, now dismiss your army when ye please;
Hang up your ensigns, let your drums be still,
For here we entertain a solemn peace.
So, dismiss your army whenever you're ready. Put away your flags, silence your drums. We're now in the midst of a formal peace.
Alright, send your troops home. Put away those banners and quiet the drums. We're making peace official now.
send your army home banners down drums silent we got peace now
The Reckoning
This scene is the play's brutal climax and moral conclusion. Pucelle's desperate lies — about her virginity, her divine commission, her pregnancy, her fathers — show her true nature: she's a con artist who uses whatever power is available (magic, sex, maternal pity) to survive. Her execution is just. But the second half of the scene shows something worse: England is being betrayed not by France, but by its own negotiators. Winchester and York preside over a peace that surrenders the hard-won victories of the entire play. The audience watches Talbot die for England, and then watches England give away what Talbot died to defend. The scene ends not with English victory but with English surrender, and Charles — whom Talbot terrified — now walks away with tribute and dignity intact. The play's final message is: military victory is meaningless without political will.
If this happened today…
A woman who's been using false identities and magical rhetoric to manipulate the war effort is finally caught and executed. Meanwhile, the government that sent her to the front is already negotiating her dismissal. And the same government is handing the enemy back half of the territory that soldiers died defending. The woman's lies are exposed; the government's lies continue.