These sad thoughts boot not. Welcome to our court, « Lo these the walls of Chinon, this the abode Of Charles our monarch. Bere in revelry He of his armies vanquish'd, his fair towns Subdued, hears careless and prolongs the dance. And little marvel I that to the cares Of empire still he turns the unwilling car, For loss on loss, defeat His strong holds taken, and his bravest Chicfs Or dead or captured, and the hopes of youth All blasted, have subdued the royal mind, Undisciplined in Fortitude's stern school. So may thy voice arouse his sleeping virtues!» upon defeat, The mission d Maid replied, «Go thou, Dunois, Announce my mission to the royal ear ; I on the river's winding banks the while Would roam, collecting for the enterprise My thoughts, though firm, yet troubled. Who essays Achievements of great import will perforce Feel the heart heave; and in my breast I feel Such perturbation.» On the banks of Vienne Devious the Damsel turu'd. Through Chinon's gales The Son of Orleans press'd with rapid step, Seeking the King. Bim from the public view lle found secluded with his blameless Queen, And his partaker of the unlawful bed, The lofty-minded Agnes. « Son of Orleans!» So as he entered cried the haughty Fair, « Thou art well come to witness the disgrace, The weak, uomanly, base despondency of this thy Sovereigo Liege. He will retreat To distant Dauphiny, 52 and fly the war! Go then, unworthy of thy raok! retreat To distant Dauphiny, and fly the war, Recreant from battle; I will not partake A fugitive's fate; when thou hast lost thy crown Thou hast lost Agnes.-Dost not blush, Dunois! To bleed in combat for a Prince like this, Fit only, like the Merovingian race On a May morning deck'd with flowers, 53 10 mount llis gay-bеdizen'd car, and ride abroad And make the multitude a holiday. Go, Charles-and liide thee in a woman's garb, And these long locks will not disgrace thee then!» 54 The Chief replied, «So may thy future years Astonishid by his speech « She has lived retired,» To him the king : « Nay, Agnes!» Charles replied, « refroach me not, I have enough of sorrow. Look around, See this fair country ravaged by the foe, Ny strong holds taken, and my bravest Chiefs Fall'o in the field, or captives far away. Dead is the Douglas ; cold thy gallant heart, Illustrious Buchan! ye from Scotland's hills, Not mindless of your old ally distress'd, Rush'd to his succour: in his cause ye fought, For liim ye perish'd. Rash, impetuous Narbonne! Thy mangled corse waves to the winds of Heaven. 55 Cold, Graville, is thy sinewy arm in death; Falla is Ventadaur; silent in the grave Rambouillet sleeps: Bretagne's unfaithful chief Leagues with my foes, and Richemont, or in arms Defies my weak control, or from my side, A friend more dreaded than the enemy, Drives my bests servants with the assassin sword. Soon must the towers of Orleans fall! But now Soon is the court convened; the jewell'd crown Shines on a menial's head. Amid the throng The Monarch stands, and anxious for the event, llis heart beats high. She comes, the Maid inspired , And as the lastard led her to the throne, Quick glancing o'er the mimic Majesty Fix'd full her eye on Charles. 58 « Thou art the King! I come the avenging Delegate of Heaven, To wield the fated weapon, from whose death, Their stern hearts palsied by the arm of God, Far, far from Orleans shall the English wolves Speed their disastrous fliglit. Monarch of France! Spread the good tidings through thy ravaged realm! The Maid is come, the mission d Maid, whose hand Shall in the consecrated walls of Rheims Crown thee the anointed King.» 59 56 In wonder mute Share with the Gouls their banquet. The courtiers heard. The astonish'd King exclaimed, This perform'd, « This is indeed the agency of Heaven ! The Maid is summond. Round the holy vase llard, Maiden, were I of belief,» he cried, Mark'd with the mystic tonsure and eurobed « Did I not now, with full and confirm'd faith, In sacred vests, a venerable train, 'Thee the redeemer of this ravaged realm They stand. The delegated Maid obeys Believe. Not doubting therefore the strange will Their summons. As she came, a loveliest blush Of all-wise Providence, delay I now O'er her fair cheek suffus d, such as became Instant to marsha! the brave sons of France One mindful still of maiden modesty, Though of her own worth conscious. Through the aisle Waved her dark flowing locks. Before the train In reverent silence waiting their sage will, And more to manifest thy holy power, With half-averted cye she stood composed. Forth with with all due speed I shall convene So have I seen the simple snow-drop rise The Doctors of Theology, fo wise men Amid the russet leaves that lide the earth And skilful in the mysteries of Heaven. In early spring, so seen it gently bend By these thy mission studied and approved, In modest loveliness alone amid As needs it must, their sanction to all minds The waste of winter. Sball bring conviction, and the firm belief By the Maiden's side Lead on thy favour'd troops to mightiest deeds, The Son of Orleans stood, prepared to vouch Surpassing human credibility.» That when on Charles the Maiden's eye had fix'd, As led by power miraculous, no fraud, Well pleas'd the Maiden heard. Her the king leads Nor juggling artifice of secret sign From the disbanding throng, meantime to dwell Dissembled inspiration. As he stood With Mary. Watchful for her Lord's return, Steadily viewing the mysterious rites, She sat with Agnes; Agnes, proud of heart, Thus to the attentive Maid the Arclı-Priest spake Majestically fair, whose large full eye Severe, Or flashing anger, or with scornful scowl, « Woman, if any fiend of hell Deformd her beauteous features. Yet with her Lurk in thy bosom, so to prompt the vaunt The lawless idol of the Monarch's heart, Of inspiration, and to mock the power Mary, obedient to her husband's will, Of God and boly Church, thus by the virtue Dwelt meekly in accord. The Maiden soon Of water hallowed in the name of God From his possessed prey.» Slowly be spake, Indignant at the unworthy charge, ibe Maid Forth came the Doctors, men acute and deep, Felt her cheek tlush ; but soon the transient glow Grown grey in study; Priests and Bishops haste Fading, she answerd meek. To Chinon : teachers wise and with high names, u Most holy Sires, Seraphic, Subtile or Irrefragable, Ye reverend Fathers of the Christian church, Most catholic! I stand before By their adıniring pupils dignificd. here you A poor weak woman; of the grace vouchsafed, The Doctors met, from cloister gloom recluse, How far unworthy, conscious : yet thougli mean, Or from the haunts luxurious of abode Innocent of fraud, and chosen by bigb Heaven Episcopal, they met, and sought the place The minister of aid. Strange vcices heard, Of judgment, in the ancient church assign'd. The dark and shadowing visions of the night, The floor with many a monumental stone Aud feelings which I may not dare to doubt, Was spread, and brass-ensculptured effigy These portents make me conscious of the God Within me; he who gifted my purged eye Unseen before. Thus much it boots to say. Not to be fathom'd by the weaker sease Of man profane.» The fathers stand, and there with rites ordain'd Thou speakest,» said the Priest, And signs symbolic strew the hallowing salt, « Of dark and shadowing visions of the night. Wherewith the limpid water, thus imbued, Canst thou remember, Maid, what vision first Minutely told with accurate circumstance, Best judgment might be formed.» Than e'er the hell-hags taught in Thessaly; The Maid replied, Or they who sitting on the ritled grave, « Amid the mountain valleys I had driven By the flue tomb-fire's lurid light dim seen, My father's flock. The eve was drawing on, 61 When by a sudden storm surprised, I sought Attentive to her words « Brethren, ye have heard The woman's tale. Peseems us now to ask Whether of holy Church a duteous child Before our court appears, so not unlike Heaven might vouchsafe its gracious miracle ; Or silly heretic, whose erring thoughts, Monstrous and vaio, perchance might stray beyond All reason, and conceit strange dreams and signs Impossible. Say, woman, from thy youth Hast thou, as rightly mother Church demands, Confess'd to holy Priest each secret sin, That, by the grace vouchsafed to him from Heaven, He might absolve thee?» « Father,» she replied, « The forms of worship in mine carlier years Wak'd my young mind to artificial awe, And made me fear my God. Warm with the glow Of health and exercise, wliene er I pass'd The threshold of the house of prayer, I felt A cold damp chill me ; I beheld the flame That with a pale and feeble glimmering Dimm'd the noon-light; I heard the solemn mass, And with strange feelings and mysterious dread Telling my beads, gave to the mystic prayers Devoulest meaning. Often when I saw The pictur'd flames writhe round a penanced soul, Have I retired, and knelt before the cross, And wept for grace, and trembled, and believed A Gop of Terrors. But ip riper years, When as my soul grew strong in solitude, I saw the eternal energy pervade The boundless range of nature, with the sun Pour life and radiance from his flamy path, As she spake « Woman, thou seemst to scorn gates of Heaven, And from the penal fires of purgatory Absolve the soul. Could Nature teach thee this? Or tell thee that St Peter holds the keys, And that his successor's unbounded power Exiends o'er either world? Although thy life Of sin were free, if of this holy truth Ignorant, thy soul in liquid flames must rue Its error.» Thus he spake; the applauding look Went round, Nor dubious to reply the Maid Was silent. « Fathers of the holy Church, If on these points abstrusc a simple maid Like me should err, impute not you the crime To self-will'd reason, vaunling its own strength Above the eternal wisdom. True it is That for long time I have not heard the sound Of mass bigh-chaunted, nor with trembling lips Fartook the mystic wafer : yet the bird Who to the matin ray prelusive pour'd His joyous song, methoughit did warble forth Sweeter thanksgiving to Religion's ear In luis wild melody of happiness, ope pale blue flame rose from the trophied tomb « Ilear ye?» the Damsel cried ; « these are the arms Than ever rung along the high-arch'd roofs yet never from the bending vine Ye have told me, Sirs, Recovering from amaze, the Priest replied: BOOK IV. Solemn and slow the reverend Priest replied, - with her The sacred trial.» «Grace of God !» exclaim'd The astonish'd Bastard ; « plunge me in the pool! O'er red-hot ploughshares make me dance to please Your dotard fancies! Fathers of the church, Where is your gravity? what! elder-like Would ye this fairer than Susannalı eye? Ye call for ordeals; and I too demand The noblest ordeal, on the English host By victory to approve the mission sent From favouring Heaven. To the Pope refer For judgment! Know ye not that France even now Stands tottering on destruction!» Starting wild, With a strange look, the mission'd Maid exclaim'd, « The sword of God is here! the grave shall speak To manifest me!» Even as she spake, The feast was spread, the sparkling bowl went roumi, Enough is given of the wearying day Obedient to the King, King of France! I come Thee it beseems, He said, and from the hall « In the field, my liege,” Swift the Maid exclaim d, I mock their efforts. But the night draws on; Meantime the herald's brazen voice proclaim'd Coming solemnity, and far and wide Spread the strange tidings. Every labour ceased; The ploughman from the unfinish'd furrow hastes; The armourer's anvil beats no more the din Of future slaughter. Through the thronging streets The buzz of asking wonder hums along. Thouglı zlistering they with gold and sparkling gems, The consecrated dome they reach, 65 On to St Catharine's sacred fane they go; frame young mane floating to the desert air, Her eye averting from the storied woe, The delegated Damsel knelt and pour'd To Heaven the earnest prayer. A trophied tomb Close to the altar rear'd its ancient bulk. Two pointless javelins and a broken sword, Time-mouldering now, proclaim'd some warrior slept The sleep of death beneath. A massy stone And rude-cosculptured effigy o'erlaid The sepulchre. To silent wonderment The expectant multitude with eager eye Gaze, listening as the mattock's heavy stroke Invades the tomb's repose : the heavy stroke Sounds hollow; over the bigh-vaulted roof Roll the repeated echoes : soon the day Dawns on the grave's long night, the slant sun-beam Beams on the inshrined arms, the crested helm, The baldrick's strength, the shield, the sacred sword. I sound of awe-repress'd astonishment Rose from the crowd. The delegated Maid Over her robes the hallowed breast-plate threw, Self-fitted to her form; on her helm d head The white plumes nod, majestically slow; She lifts the buckler and the sacred sword, Gleaming portentous light. The wondering crowd Raise the loud shout of transport. «God of Heaven,» The Maid exclaimed, « Father all merciful! Devoted to whose holy will, I wield The sword of vengeance, go before our host! All-just avenger of the innocent, Be thou our Champion! God of Love, preserve Thosc whom po lust of glory leads to arms.. His 66 She ceased, and with an eager hush the crowd Still listen'd; a brief while throughout the dome Deep silence dwelt; then with a sudden burst Devout and full, they rais'd the choral hymn, « Thee, Lord, we praise, our God!» the throng without Catch the sirange tidings, join the hymn of joy, And thundering transport peals along the heavens. As o'er some flowery field the busy bees Pour their deep music, pleasant melody To the tired traveller, under some old oak Stretch'd in the checquer'd shade; or as the sound Of many waters down the far off steep Dash'd with loud uproar, rose the murmur round Of admiration. Every gazing, eye | Dwelt on the mission'd Maid; of all beside, The long procession and the gorgeous train, As through the parting crowd the Virgin passid, He who from Orleans on the yesternight Demanded succour, clasp'd with warmth her hand, And with a bosom-thrilling voice exclaim d, « Jll-omeu'd Maid! victim of thine own worth, |