Thus, hoping to revive with gallant speech
Their courage, Salisbury spake ; "Brave countrymen,
Victorious in so many a hard-fought fight, 511
What... shrink ye now dismay'd? Oh call to mind
The plains of Agincourt, where vanquish'd France
Fled with her thousands from your fathers' arms?
Have ye forgotten how our English swords,
On that illustrious day before Verneuil,
Cut down the flower of all their chivalry?
Then was that noble heart of Douglas pierced,
Bold Buchan bit the earth, and Narbonne died,
And this Alençon, boaster as he is,

Cried mercy to his conqueror. Shall I speak
Of our victorious banner on the walls
Of Yenville and Baugenci triumphing:

And of that later hour of victory

515

520

524

When Clermont and the Bastard plied their spurs ? Shame! shame! that beaten boy is here in arms, And ye will fly before the fugitives,..

Fly from a woman! from a frantic girl!

Who with her empty mummeries tries to blast
Your courage; or if miracles she bring,

530

Aid of the Devil! Who is there among you

False to his country,.. to his former fame,
To your old leader who so many a time
Hath led ye on to glory?"

There came a heartless shout; then Talbot's cheek
Grew red with indignation. "Earl!" said he,
Addressing Salisbury: "there is no hope
From these white-liver'd dastards, and this fort
Will fall an easy conquest. We must out

And gain the Tournelles, better fortified,
Fit to endure a siege: that hope in view,
Cow'd as they are, the men from very fear
May gather what will do for this poor turn
The work of courage."

Bravely thus he spake,

Advising well, and Salisbury replied;

540

545

Rightly thou say'st. But, Talbot, could we reach The sorceress in the battle, one sure blow

Might give us back, this hour, the mastery
So marvellously lost: nor difficult

To meet the wench, for from the battlements 550

I have beheld her foremost in attack,

Playing right valiantly the soldier's part.

In her the enemy have their strength, with her
Their strength would fall. And had we her but once
Within arm-stroke, witch though she be, methinks
Her devilry could neither blunt the edge
Of thy good sword, or mine."

556

Thus communed they, And through the host the gladdening tidings ran, That they should seek the Tournelles. Then their

hearts

Gather'd new strength, placing on those strong walls Dependence; oh vain hope! for neither wall, 561 Nor moat, nor fort can save, if fear within

Palsy the soldier's arm.

Them issuing forth,

As from the river's banks they pass'd along,

564

The Maid beheld. "Lo! Conrade!" she exclaim'd, "The foe advance to meet us.. look! they lower The bridge! and now they rush

upon

the troops:..

A gallant onset! Dost thou mark the mar
Who all this day has by our side endured
The hottest conflict? Often I beheld
His feats with wonder, but his prowess now
Makes all his actions in the former fight
Seem as of no account: knowest thou him?
There is not one amid the host of France,
Of fairer promise."

570

575

"He," the chief replied, "Wretched and prodigal of life, achieves The exploits of despair; a gallant youth, Widow'd like me of hope, and but for whom I had been seen among mankind no more. Maiden! with me thy comrade in the war, His arm is vow'd to heaven. Lo! where he stands Bearing the battle's brunt!"

580

Nor paused they now In farther converse, to the perilous fray Speeding, not unobserved; for Salisbury saw And call'd on Talbot. Six, the bravest knights And sworn with them, against the virgin's life 586 Address'd their course. She by the herald's side Now urged the war, when on her white-plumed helm The hostile falchion fell. On high she lifts That hallowed sword, which in the tomb for her Age after age, by miracle reserved,

Had lain, which time itself could not corrode,

591

How then might shield, or breast-plate, or close mail
Retund its edge? Beneath that edge her foe
Fell; and the knight who to avenge him came, 595
Smitten by Conrade's battle-axe, was fell'd
Upon his dying friend. With Talbot here

The daring herald urged unequal fight;

For like some oak that in its rooted strength
Defies the storm, the undaunted Earl endured 600
His quick assault. The herald round him wheels
Rapidly, now on this side, now on that,
With many a feign'd and many a frustrate aim
Flashing his falchion; now, as he perceives
With wary eye the Earl's intended stroke,
Bending, or leaping, lithe of limb, aside,
Then quick and agile in assault again.
Ill-fated man! one deed of glory more

605

Shall with the short-lived lightning's splendor grace This thy death-day; for SLAUGHTER even now Stands o'er thy loom of life, and lifts his sword. 611

Upon her shield the martial Maid received An English warrior's blow, and in his side, Beneath the arm upraised, in prompt return Pierced him that instant Salisbury sped his sword, Which glancing from her helm fell on the folds 616 That arm'd her neck, and making there its way, Stain'd with her blood its edge. The herald saw, And turn'd from Talbot, heedless of himself, And lifting up his falchion, all his force Concenter'd. On the breast of Salisbury

620

It fell, and cleft his mail, and thro' the plate Beneath it drove, and in his heart's-blood plunged. Lo! as he struck the mighty Talbot came,

And smote his helmet: slant the weapon fell; 625 The strings gave way, the helmet dropt, the Earl Repeated on that head disarm'd his blow:

Too late to interpose the Maiden saw,

And in that miserable moment knew

Her Theodore.

Him Conrade too had seen,

630

And from a foe whom he had beaten down

Front to front

Turn'd terrible in vengeance.
They stood, and each for the death-blow prepared
His angry might. At once their weapons fell,
The Frenchman's battle-axe, and the good sword
Of Talbot. He, stunn'd by the weighty blow, 636
Sunk senseless, by his followers from the field
Convey'd with timely speed: nor had his blade
Fallen vainly on the Frenchman's crested helm,
Tho' weak to wound; for from his eyes the fire
Sparkled, and back recoiling with the blow,
He in the Maiden's arms astounded fell.

641

But now their troops all captainless confused, Fear seized the English. Not with more dismay When over wild Caffraria's wooded hills Echoes the lion's roar, the timid herd

645

Fly the death-boding sound. The forts they seek,
Now reckless which, so from that battle's rage
A present refuge. On their flying ranks

The victors press, and mark their course with blood.

But loud the trumpet of retreat resounds,
For now the westering sun with many a hue
Streak'd the gay clouds.

651

"Dunois !" the Maiden cried,

"Form now around yon stronger pile the siege, There for the night encamping." So she said. 655

The chiefs to Orleans for their needful food,