Bur. What say’st thou, Charles? for I am marching hence.
40 Char. Speak, Pucelle, and enchant him with thy words.
Puc. Brave Burgundy, undoubted hope of France!
Stay, let thy humble handmaid speak to thee.
Bur. Speak on; but be not over-tedious.
Puc. Look on thy country, look on fertile France,
[45] And see the cities and the towns defaced
By wasting ruin of the cruel foe.
[♦] As looks the mother on her lowly babe
[♦] When death doth close his tender dying eyes,