192
JOAN OF ARC.
Murmuring along. The noise of coming feet
Alarm'd him. Nearer drew the fearful sound 15
As of pursuit—anon—the clash of arms!
That instant rising o'er a broken cloud
The moon beams shone, where two with combined force
Prest on a single foe: he, warding still
Their swords, retreated in the unequal fight, 20
As he would make the city. Conrade shook
His long lance for the war, and strode along.
Full in the breast of one with forceful arm
Plunged he the spear of death; and as, dismayed
By his fellow's fall, the other turn'd to fly, 25
Hurl'd the red weapon reeking from the wound,
And fix'd him to the plain. "Now haste we on,
Frenchman!" he cried. On to the stream they speed,
And plunging stemm'd with sinewy stroke the tide.
Soon on the opposite shore arrived and safe. 30
Alarm'd him. Nearer drew the fearful sound 15
As of pursuit—anon—the clash of arms!
That instant rising o'er a broken cloud
The moon beams shone, where two with combined force
Prest on a single foe: he, warding still
Their swords, retreated in the unequal fight, 20
As he would make the city. Conrade shook
His long lance for the war, and strode along.
Full in the breast of one with forceful arm
Plunged he the spear of death; and as, dismayed
By his fellow's fall, the other turn'd to fly, 25
Hurl'd the red weapon reeking from the wound,
And fix'd him to the plain. "Now haste we on,
Frenchman!" he cried. On to the stream they speed,
And plunging stemm'd with sinewy stroke the tide.
Soon on the opposite shore arrived and safe. 30
"Whence comest thou?" cried the Chief; "on what high charge
Commission'd?"
Commission'd?"
"Is
