PUCELLE.
Are ye so hot? Yet, Pucelle, hold thy peace;
If Talbot do but thunder, rain will follow.
[The English whisper together in council.]
God speed the Parliament! Who shall be the Speaker?
TALBOT.
Dare ye come forth and meet us in the field?
PUCELLE.
Belike your lordship takes us then for fools,
To try if that our own be ours or no.
TALBOT.
I speak not to that railing Hecate,
But unto thee, Alençon, and the rest;
Will ye, like soldiers, come and fight it out?
ALENÇON.
Seignieur, no.
TALBOT.
Seignieur, hang! Base muleteers of France!
Like peasant foot-boys do they keep the walls,
And dare not take up arms like gentlemen.
PUCELLE.
Away, captains! Let’s get us from the walls,
For Talbot means no goodness by his looks.
Goodbye, my lord; we came but to tell you
That we are here.
[Exeunt from the walls.]