BASTARD.
Search out thy wit for secret policies,
And we will make thee famous through the world.
ALENÇON.
We’ll set thy statue in some holy place,
And have thee reverenced like a blessed saint.
Employ thee then, sweet virgin, for our good.
PUCELLE.
Then thus it must be; this doth Joan devise:
By fair persuasions mix’d with sugar’d words
We will entice the Duke of Burgundy
To leave the Talbot and to follow us.
CHARLES.
Ay, marry, sweeting, if we could do that,
France were no place for Henry’s warriors;
Nor should that nation boast it so with us,
But be extirped from our provinces.
ALENÇON.
For ever should they be expulsed from France,
And not have title of an earldom here.
PUCELLE.
Your honours shall perceive how I will work
To bring this matter to the wished end.
[Drum sounds afar off.]
Hark! By the sound of drum you may perceive
Their powers are marching unto Paris-ward.
[Here sound an English march.]
There goes the Talbot, with his colours spread,
And all the troops of English after him.