Shep. 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! Puc. Decrepit miser! base ignoble wretch! I am descended of a gentler blood. Thou art no father nor no friend of mine.
