Burg. Warlike and Martiall Talbot, Burgonie
Inshrines thee in his heart, and there erects
Thy noble Deeds, as Valors Monuments
Talb. Thanks gentle Duke: but where is Pucel now?
I thinke her old Familiar is asleepe.
Now where's the Bastards braues, and Charles his glikes?
What all amort? Roan hangs her head for griefe,
That such a valiant Company are fled.
Now will we take some order in the Towne,
Placing therein some expert Officers,
And then depart to Paris, to the King,
For there young Henry with his Nobles lye
Burg. What wills Lord Talbot, pleaseth Burgonie
Talb. But yet before we goe, let's not forget
The Noble Duke of Bedford, late deceas'd,
But see his Exequies fulfill'd in Roan.
A brauer Souldier neuer couched Launce,
A gentler Heart did neuer sway in Court.
But Kings and mightiest Potentates must die,
For that's the end of humane miserie.
Exeunt.
Scaena Tertia.
Enter Charles, Bastard, Alanson, Pucell.
Pucell. Dismay not (Princes) at this accident,
Nor grieue that Roan is so recouered:
Care is no cure, but rather corrosiue,
For things that are not to be remedy'd.
Let frantike Talbot triumph for a while,
And like a Peacock sweepe along his tayle,
Wee'le pull his Plumes, and take away his Trayne,
If Dolphin and the rest will be but rul'd
Charles. We haue been guided by thee hitherto,
And of thy Cunning had no diffidence,
One sudden Foyle shall neuer breed distrust
Bastard. Search out thy wit for secret pollicies,
And we will make thee famous through the World