Lean raw-bon'd rascals! who would e'er suppose
They had such courage and audacity?

CHARLES.
Let's leave this town; for they are hare-brain'd slaves,
And hunger will enforce them to be more eager:
Of old I know them; rather with their teeth
The walls they'll tear down than forsake the siege.

REIGNIER.
I think by some odd gimmors or device
Their arms are set like clocks, still to strike on;
Else ne'er could they hold out so as they do.
By my consent, we'll even let them alone.

ALENCON.
Be it so.

[Enter the Bastard of Orleans.]

BASTARD.
Where's the Prince Dauphin? I have news for him.

CHARLES.
Bastard of Orleans, thrice welcome to us.

BASTARD.
Methinks your looks are sad, your cheer appall'd:
Hath the late overthrow wrought this offence?
Be not dismay'd, for succour is at hand: