She did not hide from me; she asks a boon;
She begs to be admitted to the grace
Of speaking with the queen.

BURLEIGH.
It cannot be.

TALBOT.
Why not? Her supplication's not unjust.

BURLEIGH.
For her, the base encourager of murder;
Her, who hath thirsted for our sovereign's blood,
The privilege to see the royal presence
Is forfeited: a faithful counsellor
Can never give this treacherous advice.

TALBOT.
And if the queen is gracious, sir, are you
The man to hinder pity's soft emotions?

BURLEIGH.
She is condemned to death; her head is laid
Beneath the axe, and it would ill become
The queen to see a death-devoted head.
The sentence cannot have its execution
If the queen's majesty approaches her,
For pardon still attends the royal presence,
As sickness flies the health-dispensing hand.