Shook with strong arm and tore it from the fort, And lifted it in air, portentous shield! 141 145 "Behold the towers of Orleans," cried Dunois. "Lo! this the vale where on the banks of Loire, Of yore, at close of day the rustic band Danced to the roundelay. In younger years As oft I glided down the silver stream, Frequent upon the lifted oar I paused, Listening the sound of far-off merriment. There wave the hostile banners! martial Maid, Give thou the signal!.. let us fall upon These merciless invaders, who have sack'd Village and town, and made the hamlet haunts Silent, or hearing but the widow's groan. Give but the signal, Maiden!” Her dark eye Fix'd sadly on the foe, the holy Maid 150 Answer'd him; "Ere the avenging sword be drawn, And slaughter be let loose, befits us send 154 Some peaceful messenger, who shall make known So she said; 160 "Go," the Virgin cried; "Say to the Lord of Salisbury, and the chiefs 170 Of England, Suffolk, Fastolffe, Talbot, Scales, 165 99 Her holy banner.' To the English camp Fearless the herald went. At mid-day meal, 180 With all the dissonance of boisterous mirth, The British chiefs caroused and quaff'd the bowl, When by the sentinel conducted there The Maiden's herald came. "Chiefs," he began, 185 "Salisbury, and ye the representatives Το I come, no welcome messenger. Thus saith Thus hath decreed. To Charles the rightful heir, The kingdom. In His name the Virgin comes, 195 Arm'd with the sword, yet not of mercy void. Depart in peace for ere the morrow dawns, Victorious upon yonder wall shall wave Her holy banner.'' Wonder made a pause; 201 To this a laugh succeeds. "What!" Fastolffe cried, "A virgin warrior hath your monarch sent To save devoted Orleans? By the rood, I thank his grace. If she be young and fair, No worthless prize, my lords! Go, tell your Maid, Joyful we wait her coming." There was one Among the English chiefs who had grown old 206 To unyielding stiffness braced them. One who saw * The veins were full, and every muscle bore His silence threaten'd. 211 215 "Get thee gone!" exclaim'd The indignant chief: " away ! nor think to scare With girlish phantasies the English host 220 That scorns your bravest warriors. Hie thee thence, That Salisbury longs to meet her in the fight. 66 225 Contemptuous man! No more!" the Herald cried, as to his cheek 230 "And who art thou?" cried Suffolk, and his eye Grew fierce and wrath-inflamed: "What fool art thou, Who at this woman's bidding comest to brave 235 The host of England? Thou shalt have thy meed!" Then turning to the sentinel he cried, Prepare a stake! and let the men of Orleans, And let this woman'who believes her name May privilege her herald, see the fire Consume him. Plant a stake! for by my God First martyr." As he spake, a sudden flush Came o'er the herald's cheek, and his heart beat To such a steady hue as spake the soul 240 245 Roused up with all its powers, and unsubdued, A hideous shout, more savage than the howl 250 255 Of midnight wolves, around him as they throng'd, Your sons, your husbands, by the sword must fall. 268 He who spake 264 Was young and comely; had his cheek been pale With dread, and had his eye look'd fearfully, Sure he had won compassion; but the blood Gave now a livelier meaning to his cheek, As with a prophet's look and prophet's voice He raised his ominous warning: they who heard Wonder'd, and they who rear'd the stake perform'd With half-unwilling hands their slacken'd toil, And doubted what might follow. Not unseen 275 Rear'd they the stake, and piled around the wood; |