His noontide radiance, when afar they hear
The hum of men, and see the distant towers
Of Orleans, and the bulwarks of the foe,
And many a streamer wantoning in air.
These as they saw, and thought of all the ills
Their brethren had endured, closely pent there
For many a month, such ardour for the fight
Burnt in each bosom, as young Ali felt

Then when Mohammed of the assembled tribe
Ask'd who would be his Vizir. Fierce in faith,
Forth from the race of Hashem stept the youth,
"Prophet of God! lo.. I will be the man!"
And well did Ali merit that high post,
Victorious upon Beder's fertile vale,
And on mount Ohud, and before the walls
Of Chaibar, when down-cleaving to the chest
His giant foe, he grasp'd the massy gate,
Shook with strong arm and tore it from the fort,
And lifted it in air, portentous shield!

"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
Answer'd him: "Ere the avenging sword be drawn,
And slaughter be let loose, befits us send
Some peaceful messenger, who shall make known
The will of Heaven: so timely warn'd, our foes
Haply may yet repent, and quit in peace
Besieged Orleans, for I fain would spare
The bloody price of victory."

So she said;
And as she spake, a soldier from the ranks
Came forward. "I will be thy messenger,
O Prophetess! and to the English camp
Will bear thy bidding."

"Go," the Virgin cried ;
Say to the Lord of Salisbury, and the chiefs
Of England, Suffolk, Fastolffe, Talbot, Scales,
Invaders of the country, say, thus says

THE MAID OF ORLEANS: With your troops retire
In peace
Of every captured town the keys

Restore to Charles; so bloodless you may seek
Your native island; for the God of Hosts
Thus hath decreed. To Charles the rightful heir,
By long descent and by the willing choice
Of duteous subjects, hath the Lord assign'd
The kingdom. In His name the Virgin comes
Arm'd with the sword, yet not of mercy void.
Depart in peace: for ere the morrow dawns,
Victorious upon yonder wall shall wave

1 Φαίης κεν γυίων νιν όσον σθενος ελλοπιεύειν

'Ωδε οἱ ωδηκαντι κατ' αυχένα παντοθεν ινές,

Και πολιῳ πες δοντι" το δε σθένος αξιον άβας. - Theocr.

"Chiefs," he began,

"Salisbury, and ye the representatives
Of the English King, usurper of this realm,
To ye the leaders of the English host

I come, no welcome messenger. Thus saith
THE MAID OF ORLEANS: With your troops retire
In peace.
Of every captured town the keys
Restore to Charles; so bloodless you may seek
Your native island; for the God of Hosts
Thus hath decreed. To Charles the rightful heir,
By long descent and by the willing choice
Of duteous subjects, hath the Lord assign'd
The kingdom. In His name the Virgin comes,
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;

One who saw

Among the English chiefs who had grown old
In arms, yet had not age unnerved his limbs,
But from the flexile nimbleness of youth
To unyielding stiffness braced them.
Him seated at the board, might well have deem'd
That Talbot with his whole collected might
Wielded the sword in war, for on his neck
The veins were full, and every muscle bore
The character of strength. He his stern eye
Fix'd on the herald, and before he spake
His silence threaten'd.2

"Get thee gone!" exclaim'd
The indignant chief: "away! nor think to scare
With girlish phantasies the English host
That scorns your bravest warriors. Hie thee thence,
And tell this girl she may expect to meet
The mockery of the camp!

"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

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
He shall be kalendered of this new faith
First martyr."

As he spake, a sudden flush

Came o'er the herald's cheek, and his heart beat
With quicker action; but the sudden flush,
Nature's instinctive impulse, faded soon

To such a steady hue as spake the soul
Roused up with all its powers, and unsubdued,
And strengthen'd for endurance. Through the camp,
Soon as the tidings spread, a shout arose,

A hideous shout, more savage than the howl
Of midnight wolves, around him as they throng'd,
To gaze upon their victim.
He pass'd on;

And as they led him to the appointed place
Look'd round, as though forgetful of himself,
And cried aloud, "Oh! woe it is to think
So many men shall never see the sun

Go down! Ye English mothers mourn ye now!
Daughters of England weep! for hard of heart
Still your mad leaders urge this impious war;
And for their folly and their wickedness,
Your sons, your husbands, by the sword must fall.
Long-suffering is the Lord, and slow to wrath,
But heavy are his judgements ! "

Reasons for burning a trumpeter.

"The letter she sent to Suffolk was received with scorn, and the trumpeter that brought it commanded to be burnt, against the law of nations, saith a French a author, but erroneously, for his coming was not warranted by the authority of any lawfull prince, but from a private maid, how highly soever self-pretended, who had neither estate to keep, nor commission to send a trumpeter."-. Fuller's Profane State. 2 De Serres says, "The trumpeter was ready to be burnt in the sight of the besieged."

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
Rear'd they the stake, and piled around the wood;
In sight of Orleans and the Maiden's host, 2
Had Suffolk's arrogant fierceness bade the work
Of death be done. The Maiden's host beheld;
At once in eager wrath they raised the loud
And general clamour, "Lead us to the foe!"
"Not upon us, O God!" the Maid exclaim'd,
"Not upon us cry out the innocent blood!"
And bade the signal sound. In the English camp
The clarion and the trumpet's blare was heard;
In haste they seize their arms, in haste they form,
Some by bold words seeking to hide their fear
Even from themselves, some silently in prayer,
For much their hearts misgave them.

præstantissimo, qui similiter ejusdem aquæ haustu mortalitatem exuerit, divagari, gaudentem præliis, adesse in bello melioribus, aut iis qui ejus opem imploraverint, cujuscunque tandem sint religionis."- Busbequius.

"The Persians say, that Alexander coming to understand, that in the mountain of Kaf there was a great cave, very black and dark, wherein ran the water of immortality, would needs take a journey thither. But being afraid to lose his way in the cave, and considering with himself that he had committed a great oversight in leaving the more aged in

4"A ripa fluminis Halys venimus ad Goukurthoy; inde Choron; post in The Ke Thioi. Hic multa didicimus a monachis Turcicis, quos Dervis vocant, qui eo loco insignem habent ædem, de heroe quodam Chederle summâ corporis atque animi fortitudine, quem eundem fuisse cum nostro D. Georgio fabulantur; eademque illi ascribunt quæ huic nostri; nimirum vasti et horrendi draconis cæde servasse expositam virginem. Ad hæc alia adjiciunt multa, et quæ libitum est, comminiscuntur, illum per longinquas oras peregrinari solitum, ad fluvium postremo pervenisse, cujus aquæ bibentibus præstarent immortalitatem. Qui quidem fluvius, in quâ parte terrarum sit, non dicunt; nisi fortassis in Utopiâ collocari debet: tantum affirmant illum magnis tenebris, multâque caligine obductum latere; neque cuiquam mortalium post Chederlem, uti illum videret, contigisse. Chederlem vero ipsum mortis legibus solutumn, huc illuc in equo

a De Serres.

young people, such as were not able to advise him, he ordered to be brought to him some old man, whose counsel he might follow in the adventure he was then upon. There were in the whole army but two brothers, named Chidder and Elias, who had brought their father along with them, and this good old man bad his sons go and tell Alexander, that to go through with the design he had undertaken, his only way were to take a mare that had a colt at her heels, and to ride upon her into the cave, and leave the colt at the entrance of it, and the mare would infallibly bring him back again to the same place without any trouble. Alexander thought the advice so good, that he would not take any other person with him in that journey but those two brothers, leaving the rest of his retinue at the entrance of the cave. He advanced so far that he came to a gate, so well polished, that notwithstanding the great darkness, it gave light enough to let him see there was a bird fastened thereto. The bird asked Alexander what he would have? he made answer that he looked for the Water of immortality. The bird asked him, what

To aid the Moslem on his deathless horse,
Swaying the sword with such resistless arm,
Such mightiest force, as he had newly quaff'd
The hidden waters of eternal youth,

Till with the copious draught of life and strength
Inebriate; such, so fierce, so terrible,

Came Conrade through the camp. Aright, aleft,
The affrighted foemen scatter from his spear;
Onward he comes, and now the circling throng
Fly from the stake, and now he checks his course,
And cut's the herald's bonds, and bids him live
To arm, and fight, and conquer.

"Haste thee hence

Tell the chiefs

To Orleans," cried the warrior.
There is confusion in the English camp.
Bid thera come forth." On Conrade's steed the youth
Leapt up, and hasten'd onward. He the while
Turn'd to the war.

Like two conflicting clouds,
Pregnant with thunder, moved the hostile hosts.
Then man met man, then on the batter'd shield
Rung the loud lance, and through the darken'd sky
Fast fell the arrowy storm. Amid his foes
The Bastard's arm dealt irresistibly

The strokes of death; and by his side the Maid
Led the fierce fight, the Maid, though all unused
To such rude conflict, now inspired by Heaven,
Flashing her flamy falchion through the troops,
That like the thunderbolt, where'er it fell,
Scatter'd the trembling ranks. The Saracen,
Though arm'd from Cashbin or Damascus, wields
A weaker sword; nor might that magic blade
Compare with this, which Oriana saw
Flame in the ruffian Ardan's robber hand,
When, sick and cold as death, she turn'd away
Her dizzy eyes, lest they should see the fall
Of her own Amadis. Nor plated shield,
Nor the strong hauberk, nor the crested casque,
Stay that descending sword. Dreadful she moved,

was done in the world? Mischief enough, replies Alexander, since there is no vice or sin but reigns there. Whereupon the bird getting loose and flying away, the gate opened and Alexander saw an Angel sitting, with a trumpet in his hand, holding it as if he were going to put it to his mouth. Alexander asked him his name. The Angel made answer his name was Raphael, and that he only staid for a command from God to blow the trumpet, and to call the dead to judgement. Which having said, he asks Alexander who he was? I am Alexander, replied he, and I seek the Water of immortality. The Angel gave him a stone and said to him, go thy wayes, and look for another stone of the same weight with this, and then thou shalt find immortality. Whereupon Alexander asked how long he had to live? The Angel said to him, till such time as the heaven and the earth which encompass thee be turned to iron. Alexander being come out of the cave, sought a long time, and not meeting with any stone just of the same weight with the other, he put one into the balance which he thought came very near it, and finding but very little difference, he added thereto a little earth, which made the scales even; it being God's intention to shew Alexander thereby, that he was not to expect immortality till he himself were put into the earth. At last Alexander having one day a fall off his horse in the barren ground of Ghur, they laid him upon the coat he wore over his armour, and covered him with his buckler to keep off the heat of the sun. Then he began to comprehend the prophecy of the Angel, and was satisfied the hour of his death was at hand; accordingly he died.

Like as the Angel of the Lord went forth
And smote his army, when the Assyrian king,
Haughty of Hamath and Sepharvaim fallen,
Blasphemed the God of Israel.

Yet the fight

Hung doubtful, where exampling hardiest deeds,
Salisbury struck down the foe, and Fastolffe strove,
And in the hotest doings of the war
Towered Talbot. He, remembering the past day
When from his name the affrighted sons of France
Fled trembling, all astonish'd at their force
And wontless valour, rages round the field
Dreadful in anger: yet in every man
Meeting a foe fearless, and in the faith
Of Heaven's assistance firm.

The clang of arms For the war

Reaches the walls of Orleans.
Prepared, and confident of victory,
Forth speed the troops. Not when afar exhaled
The hungry raven snuffs the steam of blood
That from some carcass-cover'd field of fame
Taints the pure air, flies he more eagerly
To feed upon the slain, than the Orleanites,
Impatient now for many an ill endured

In the long siege, to wreak upon their foes
Due vengeance. Then more fearful grew the fray;
The swords that late flash'd to the evening sun 1
Now quench'd in blood their radiance.

"Khidir and Elias occupy a distinguished place in the legion of prophets. The name of the first signifies verdant, alluding to the power which he possessed of producing, wherever he trod, the most beautiful and enchanting verdure. These two are regarded as the protectors and tutelary gods of travellers; the former upon the sea, the latter upon the land; and they are thought to be incessantly employed in promoting these salutary objects. In their rapid and uniform courses, they are believed to meet once a year at Mina, in the environs of Mecca, the day on which the pilgrims are assembled."— D' Ohsson's History of the Othoman Empire.

"Now does the day grow blacker than before,
The swords that glistered late, in purple gore
Now all distain'd, their former brightnesse lose.
May's Edward III.

And again, Book 7.

The glittering swords that shone so bright of late Are quickly all distain'd with purple gore.

Smote down his soldiers, and the conqueror heard
GOD in the tempest, and remembered then
With a remorseful sense of Christian fear
What misery he had caused, and in the name
Of blessed Mary vowed a vow of peace.1

Lo! where the holy banner waved aloft,
The lambent lightnings play. Irradiate round,
As with a blaze of glory, o'er the field

It stream'd miraculous splendour. Then their hearts
Sunk, and the English trembled; with such fear
Possess'd, as when the Canaanites beheld
The sun stand still on Gibeon, at the voice
Of that king-conquering warrior, he who smote
The country of the hills, and of the south,
From Baal-gad to Halak, and their chiefs,
Even as the Lord commanded. Swift they fled
From that portentous banner, and the sword
Of France; though Talbot with vain valiancy
Yet urged the war, and stemm'd alone the tide
Of battle. Even their leaders felt dismay;
Fastolffe fled first, and Salisbury in the rout
Mingled, and all impatient of defeat,
Borne backward Talbot turns. Then echoed loud
The cry of conquest, deeper grew the storm
And darkness, hovering o'er on raven wing,
Brooded the field of death.

Nor in the camp
Deem themselves safe the trembling fugitives;
On to the forts they haste. Bewilder'd there
Amid the moats by fear and the thick gloom
Of more than midnight darkness, plunge the troops,
Crush'd by fast following numbers who partake
The death they give. As swoln with vernal snows
A mountain torrent hurries on its way,
Till at the brink of some abrupt descent
Arrived, with deafening clamour down it falls;
Thus borne along, tumultuously the troops
Driven by the force behind them, plunge amid
The liquid death. Then rose the dreadful cries
More dreadful, and the dash of breaking waters
That to the passing lightning as they broke
Open'd their depth.

Nor of the host so late Exultant in the pride of long success, A remnant had escaped, had not their chief, Slow as he moved unwilling from the field, What most might profit the defeated ranks Bethought him. He, when he had gain'd the fort

"Il advint a luy et a toute sa gent, estant devant Chartres, qui moult humilia et brise son courage; car entendis que ces traicteurs François alloient et preschoient ledit roy et son conseil, et encores nulle response agreable nen avoient eue. Une orage une tempeste et une fouldre si grande et si horrible descendit du ciel en lost du roy Dangleterre quil sembloit proprement que le siecle deust finer. Car il cheoit si grosses pierres que elles tuoyent hommes et chevaulx, et en furent les plus hardis tous esbahis. Adoncques regarda le roy Dangleterre devers leglise de Nostre Dame de Chartres, et se voua et rendit devotement a Nostre Dame, et promist, et confessa si comme il dist depuis quil se accorderoit a la paix."- Froissart.

"But while he lodged there (before Chartres), his army making a horrible spoil of the whole country, there chanced an occasion, as the work of Heaven, which suddenly quailed his ambitious design to ruin France; for behold a horrible and extraordinary tempest of haile, thunder, and lightning,

Soon the fires

Named from St. John, there kindled up on high
The guiding fire. Not unobserved it rose;
The watchful guards on Tournelles, and the pile
Of that proud city in remembrance fond
Call'd London, light their beacons.
Flame on the summit of the circling forts
Which with their moats and crenellated walls,
Included Orleans. Far across the plain
They cast a lurid splendour; to the troops
Grateful, as to the way-worn traveller,
Wandering with parch'd feet o'er Arabian sands,
The far-seen cistern; he for many a league
Travelling the trackless desolate, where heaved
With tempest swell the desert billows round,
Pauses, and shudders at his perils past,
Then wild with joy speeds on to taste the wave
So long bewail'd.

Swift as the affrighted herd
Scud o'er the plain, when rattling thunder-cracks
Upon the bolted lightning follow close,
The English hasten to their sheltering forts,
Even there of safety doubtful, still appall'd
And trembling, as the pilgrim who by night
On his way wilder'd, to the wolf's deep howl
Hears the wood echo, when from close pursuit
Escaped, the topmost branch of some tall tree
He grasps close clinging, still of the wild beast
Fearful, his teeth jar, and the cold sweat stands
Upon his clammy limbs.

Nor now the Maid Greedy of vengeance presses the pursuit. She bids the trumpet of retreat resound; A welcome note to the affrighted foe Blew that loud blast, whereat obediently The French, though eager on the invaders' heads To wreak their wrath, stay their victorious sword.

Loud is the cry of conquest as they turn To Orleans. There what few to guard the town Unwilling had remain'd, haste forth to meet The triumph. Many a blazing torch they held, Which raised aloft amid the midnight storm Flash'd far a festive light. The Maid advanced; Deep through the sky the hollow thunders roll'd; 2 Innocuous lightnings round the hallowed banner Wreath'd their red radiance.

Through the city gate

Then as the laden convoy pass'd was heard The shout of exultation; and such joy

fell with such violence as many horses and men in the army perished, as if that God had stretched forth his hand from heaven to stay his course."- De Serres.

2 The circumstance of the Maid's entering Orleans at midnight in a storm of thunder and lightning is historically true.

"The Englishmen perceiving that thei within could not long continue for faute of vitaile and pouder, kepte not their watche so diligently as thei wer accustomed, nor scoured not the countrey environed as thei before had ordained. Whiche negligence the citezens shut in perceiving, sent worde thereof to the French capitaines, which with Pucelle in the dedde tyme of the nighte, and in a greate rayne and thundre, with all their vitaile and artilery entered into the citie."

Hall, ff. 127. Shakespear also notices this storm. Striking as the circumstance is, Chapelain has omitted it.

The men of Orleans at that welcome sight
Possess'd, as when from Bactria late subdued,
The mighty Macedonian led his troops
Amid the Sogdian desert, where no stream
Wastes on the wild its fertilizing waves.
Fearful alike to pause, or to proceed;
Scorch'd by the sun that o'er their morning march
Steam'd his hot vapours, heart-subdued, and faint;
Such joy as then they felt, when from the heights
Burst the soul-gladdening sound, for thence was seen
The evening sun silvering the fertile vale,
Where Oxus roll'd below.

Clamours of joy

Echo along the streets of Orleans, wont
Long time to hear the infant's feeble cry,
The mother's frantic shriek, or the dread sound,
When from the cannon burst its stores of death.
Far flames the fire of joy on ruin'd piles
And high heap'd carcasses, whence scared away
From his abhorred meal, on clattering wing
Rose the night-raven slow.

In the English forts
Sad was the scene. There all the livelong night
Steal in the straggling fugitives; as when
Past is the storm, and o'er the azure sky
Serenely shines the sun, with every breeze
The waving branches drop their gather'd rain,
Renewing the remembrance of the storm.

JOAN OF ARC.

THE SEVENTH BOOK.

STRONG were the English forts1, by daily toil
Of thousands rear'd on high, when to ensure
His meditated conquest Salisbury

Resolved from Orleans to shut out all means
Of human succour. Round the city stretch'd
Their line continuous, massy as the wall
Erst by the fearful Roman on the bounds
Of Caledonia raised, when soul-enslaved
The race degenerate fear'd the car-borne chiefs
Who moved from Morven down.

Broad battlements Crested the bulwark, and safe standing place

The patience and perseverance of a besieging army in those ages appear almost incredible to us now. The camp of Ferdinand before Granada swelled into a city. Edward III. made a market town before Calais. Upon the Captain's refusal to surrender, says Barnes, "he began to entrench himself strongly about the city, setting his own tent directly against the chief gates at which he intended to enter; then he placed bastions between the town and the river, and set out regular streets, and reared up decent buildings of strong timber between the trenches, which he covered with thatch, reed, broom and skins. Thus he encompassed the whole town of Calais, from Risban on the north-west side to Courgaine on the north-east, all along by Sangate, at Port and Fort de Nicolay, commonly by the English called Newlandbridge, down by Hammes, Cologne and Marke; so that his camp looked like a spacious city, and was usually by strangers, that came thither to market, called New Calais. For

For archer or for man-at-arms was there.
The frequent buttress at just distance rose
Declining from its base, and sixty forts
Seem'd in their strength to render all secure.
But loftier and massier than the rest,

As though of some large castle each the keep,
Stood six square fortresses with turrets flank'd,
Piles of unequall'd strength, though now deem'd weak
'Gainst puissance more than mortal. Safely thence
The skilful bowman, entering with his eye 2
The city, might, himself the while unseen
Through the long opening aim his winged deaths.
Loire's waves diverted fill'd the deep-dug moat
Circling the whole; a bulwark vast it was

As that which round their camp and stranded ships
The Achaians raised, a common sepulchre

Of thousands slaughter'd, and the doom'd death place Of many a chief, when Priam's virtuous son Assail'd them, then in hope, with favouring Jove.

But cowering now amid their sheltering forts Trembled the invading host. Their leader's care In anxious vigilance prepares to ward

The assault expected. Rightly he ared
The Maid's intent, but vainly did he seek
To kindle in their breasts the wonted flame
Of valour; for, by prodigies unmann'd,
They wait the morn. The soldiers' pride was gone;
The blood was on their swords, their bucklers lay
Defiled and unrepair'd, they sharpen'd not
Their blunted spears, the affrighted archer's hand
Relax'd not his bent bow. To them, confused
With fears of unknown danger, the long night
Was dreadful, but more dreadful dawn'd the day.

The morning came; the martial Maid arose;
Lovely in arms she moved.
Around the gate,

Eager again for conquest, throng the troops.
High tower'd the Son of Orleans, in his strength
Poising the ponderous spear. His batter'd shield,
Witnessing the fierce fray of yesternight,
Hung on his sinewy arm.

"Maiden of Arc,"

So as he spake approaching, cried the chief,
"Well hast thou proved thy mission, as by words
And miracles attested when dismay'd

The grave theologists dismiss'd their doubts,
So in the field of battle now confirm'd.
Yon well-fenced forts protect the fugitives,
And seem as in their strength they mock'd our force.

this prince's reputation for justice was so great, that to his markets (which he held in his camp twice every week, viz. on Tuesdays and Saturdays for flesh, fish, bread, wine and ale, with cloth and all other necessaries,) there came not only his friends and allies from England, Flanders and Aquitain, but even many of king Philip's subjects and confederates conveyed thither their cattle and other commodities to be sold."

2 "Nunc lentus, celsis adstans in collibus, intrat Urbem oculis, discitque locos caussasque locorum." Silius Italicus, xii. 567. "Abjecere madentes,

3

Sicut erant, clypeos; nec quisquam spicula tersit, Nec laudavit equum, nitidæ nec cassidis altam Compsit adornavitque jubam."

Statius.