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With mingled dust and blood, and broken arms,
And mangled bodies. Soon the monarch joins 621
His victor army. Round the royal flag,
Uprear'd in conquest now, the chieftains flock
Proffering their eager service. To his arms,
Or wisely fearful, or by speedy force
Compell'd, the embattled towns submit and own
Their rightful king. Baugenci strives in vain:
Yenville and Mehun yield; from Sully's wall
Hurl'd is the banner'd lion: on they pass,
629
Auxerre, and Troyes, and Chalons, ope their gates,
And by the mission'd Maiden's rumour'd deeds
Inspirited, the citizens of Rheims

Feel their own strength; against the English troops
With patriot valour, irresistible,

They rise, they conquer, and to their liege lord 635 Present the city keys.

The morn was fair

When Rheims re-echoed to the busy hum

Of multitudes, for high solemnity

Assembled.

To the holy fabric moves

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The long procession, through the streets bestrewn
With flowers and laurel boughs. The courtier throng
Were there, and they in Orleans, who endured
The siege right bravely; Gaucour, and La Hire,
The gallant Xaintrailles, Boussac, and Chabannes,
Alenson, and the bravest of the brave,
The Bastard Orleans, now in hope elate,
Soon to release from hard captivity
His dear-beloved brother; gallant men,

And worthy of eternal memory,

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For they, in the most perilous times of France, 650

Despair'd not of their country. By the king
The delegated Damsel pass'd along
Clad in her batter'd arms. She bore on high
Her hallow'd banner to the sacred pile,
And fix'd it on the altar, whilst her hand
Pour'd on the monarch's head the mystic oil,
Wafted of yore by milk-white dove from heaven,
(So legends say) to Clovis when he stood

655

At Rheims for baptism; dubious since that day, When Tolbiac plain reek'd with his warrior's blood, And fierce upon their flight the Almanni prest, 661 And rear'd the shout of triumph; in that hour Clovis invoked aloud the Christian God

And conquer'd: waked to wonder thus, the chief Became love's convert, and Clotilda led

Her husband to the font.

The mission'd Maid

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Then placed on Charles's brow the crown of France,
And back retiring, gazed upon the king
One moment, quickly scanning all the past,
Till in a tumult of wild wonderment

670

She wept aloud. The assembled multitude
In awful stillness witness'd: then at once,
As with a tempest-rushing noise of winds,
Lifted their mingled clamours. Now the Maid
Stood as prepared to speak, and waved her hand, 675
And instant silence followed.

King of France!" She cried, "At Chinon, when my gifted eye Knew thee disguised, what inwardly the spirit Prompted, I promised, with the sword of God, To drive from Orleans far the English wolves, 680

And crown thee in the rescued walls of Rheims.
All is accomplish'd. I have here this day
Fulfill'd my mission, and anointed thee
King over this great nation.. Of this charge,
Or well perform'd or carelessly, that God

Of Whom thou holdest thine authority

Will take account; from Him all power derives.
Thy duty is to fear the Lord, and rule,
According to His word and to the laws,
The people thus committed to thy charge:
Theirs is to fear Him and to honour Thee,
And with that fear and honour to obey
In all things lawful; both being thus alike
By duty bound, alike restricted both
From wilful license. If thy heart be set
To do His will and in His ways to walk,
I know no limit to the happiness

685

690

695

Thou may'st create. I do beseech thee, King!"
The Maid exclaim'd, and fell upon the ground
And clasp'd his knees, "I do beseech thee, King!
By all the thousands that depend on thee,
For weal or woe,.. consider what thou art,

701

By Whom appointed! If thou dost oppress

Thy people, if to aggrandize thyself

Thou tear'st them from their homes, and sendest them

To slaughter, prodigal of misery;

706

If when the widow and the orphan groan

In want and wretchedness, thou turnest thee

To hear the music of the flatterer's tongue;

If when thou hear'st of thousands who have fallen. Thou say'st, I am a King! and fit it is

711

That these should perish for me;'.. if thy realm

Should, through the counsels of thy government,
Be fill'd with woe, and in thy streets be heard
The voice of mourning and the feeble cry
Of asking hunger; if in place of Law

715

Iniquity prevail; if Avarice grind

The poor; if discipline be utterly

Relax'd, Vice charter'd, Wickedness let loose;
Though in the general ruin all must share,
Each answer for his own peculiar guilt,

720

Yet at the Judgement-day, from those to whom
The power was given, the Giver of all power
Will call for righteous and severe account.
Chuse thou the better part, and rule the land
In righteousness; in righteousness thy throne
Shall then be stablish'd, not by foreign foes
Shaken, nor by domestic enemies,

But guarded then by loyalty and love,

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True hearts, Good Angels, and All-seeing Heaven."

Thus spake the Maid of Orleans, solemnly Accomplishing her marvellous mission here.

"Lewes duke of Orleance murthered in Paris, by Jhon duke of Burgoyne, was owner of the castle of Concy, on the frontiers of Fraunce toward Arthoys, whereof he made constable the lord of Cauny, a man not so wise as his wife was faire, and yet she was not so faire, but she was as well beloved of the duke of Orleance, as of her husband. Betwene the duke and her husband (I cannot tell who was father), she conceived a child, and brought furthe a prety boye called Jhon, whiche child beying of the age of one yere, the duke deceased, and not long after the mother and the lord of Cawny ended their lives. The next of kynne to the lord Cawny chalenged the inheritaunce, which was worth foure thousande crounes a yere, alledgyng that the boye was a bastard: and the kynred of the mother's side, for to save her honesty, it plainly denied. In conclusion, this matter was in contencion before the presidentes of the parliament of Paris, and there hang in controversie till the child came to the age of eight years old. At whiche tyme it was demanded of hym openly whose sonne he was; his frendes of his mother's side advertised hym to require a day, to be advised of so great an answer, whiche.he asked, and to hym it was granted. In the mean season, his said frendes persuaded him to claime his inheritance as sonne to the lorde of Cawny, whiche was an honorable livyng, and an auncient patrimony, affirming that if he said contrary, he not only slaundered his mother, shamed hymself, and stained his bloud, but also should have no livyng, nor any thing to take to.