#bestmonologue

“First, let me tell you whom you have condemn’d:

Not me 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 heart.

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 thousand vices,

Because you want the grace that others have,

You judge it straight a thing impossible

To compass the wonders buy 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.

[...]

Will nothing turn your unrelenting hearts?

Then, Joan, discover thy infirmity,

That warranteth by law to be thy privilege.

I am with child, ye bloody homicides:

Murder not then the fruit within my womb,