Riche. But yet without advice,
A step of such importance meditate?
Cha. From whom should we or ask, or need advice?
Are we not master of ourself—our actions?
Riche. Not from the sycophants that court the ear,
Of royalty abused, making their prince
A puppet in their hands, merely to serve
Their selfish aims; but from the wise—
Cha. The counsel
Needed was our own, nor wished we other.
Riche. Counsel! the imposture's gross. This artful woman,
This low-born tool of more expert deceivers—
Cha. 'Twere well to speak in more befitting terms
Of one who renders services so signal.
It is the will of Heav'n, by her declared,
That we repair to Rheims; and 'tis our duty,
Our pleasure also, to obey the mandate.
Riche. Your grace is jesting: better far it were
To punish, and severely, her presumption,
Than heed her guilty tales, or idle follies.
What hath she done, this delegate of Heaven,
But what the meanest, youngest of your captains,
Had, in like case, done better?
Cha. Ask the English,
The bravest foe that walks this nether earth,
This lion-hearted, great, and warlike race,
Whose very valour makes it honour to confront them;
To them propose the question, they will answer—
Shook to the centre of their inmost soul
Their stoutest men, their ablest captains beaten.
Ask France herself the same, and she will say—
Restored her to her rank among the nations,
And made it shame e'en to be thought disloyal.
Had other chieftains done but half as much,
No need for aid like hers had then existed.
Riche. I boil with rage!
Cha. She claims thy gratitude,
As well as mine, my lord.