"What I resolved," said she, "I resolved against truth. Let me suffer my sentence at once, rather than endure what I suffer in prison,"
The bishop of Beauvais knew that if Joan were once out of the power of the court that tried her, the chapter of Rouen, who were somewhat favourably disposed, would not again give her up to punishment; and fears were entertained that she might ultimately be released, and gain new converts. It was resolved, therefore, to make away with her at once, and the crime of relapse was considered sufficient. A pile of wood was prepared in the old market at Rouen, and scaffolds placed round it for the judges and ecclesiastics: Joan was brought out on the last day of May, 1431; she wept piteously, and showed the same weakness as when she first beheld the stake. But now no mercy was shown. They placed on her head the cap used to mark the victims of the Inquisition, and the fire soon consumed the unfortunate Joan of Arc. When the pile had burned out, all the ashes were gathered and thrown into the Seine.
It is difficult to say to what party most disgrace attaches on account of this barbarous murder: whether to the Burgundians, who sold the maid of Orleans; the English, who permitted her execution; the French, of that party who brought it about and perpetrated it; or the French, of the opposite side, who made so few efforts to rescue her to whom they owed their liberation and their national existence. The story of the Maid of Orleans is, throughout, disgraceful to every one, friend and foe; it forms one of the greatest blots, and one of the most curious enigmas in historic record. It has sometimes been suggested that she was merely a tool in the hands of the priests; but this supposition will hardly satisfy those who read with attention the history of Joan of Arc. The works on this subject are very numerous. M. Chaussard enumerates upwards of four hundred, either expressly devoted to her life or including her history. Her adventures form the subject of Voltaire's poem of La Pucelle, and of a tragedy by Schiller; but perhaps the best production of the kind is the poem by Southey, which bears her name.
ARETAPHILA,
Of Cyrene, wife of Phædimus, a nobleman of that place, lived about, B. C. 120. Nicocrates, having usurped the government of Cyrene, caused Phædimus to be slain, and forcibly espoused his widow, of whose beauty he had become enamoured. Cyrene groaned under the cruelty of the tyrant, who was gentle and kind only to Aretaphila. Determined to free her country from this cruel yoke, Aretaphila obtained several poisons in order to try their strength. Her drugs were discovered, and her design suspected, and she was put to the torture, but resolutely refused to confess. Her husband afterwards, moved by her sufferings, entreated her forgiveness, which she refused.
Aretaphila had one daughter by her first marriage, whom she had united to Lysander, brother of Nicocrates, and through whom she persuaded Lysander to rebel against the tyrant. He was successful in his attempt, and Nicocrates was deposed and assassinated. But alter Lysander's accession to the throne, he neglected Areta-
