Bast. Where’s the Prince Dauphin? I have news for him.
Char. Bastard of Orleans, thrice welcome to us.
Bast. Methinks your looks are sad, your cheer appall’d:
Hath the late overthrow wrought this offence?
50 Be not dismay’d, for succour is at hand:
A holy maid hither with me I bring,
Which by a vision sent to her from heaven
Ordained is to raise this tedious siege
And drive the English forth the bounds of France.
55 The spirit of deep prophecy she hath,