Page:Completepoetical1848sout.djvu/43

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BOOK VI.
JOAN OF ARC
35

Through many an age hath held inviolate.
She is the Prophetess of the Most High,
And will deliver Orleans!"
                              Gaucour then,
"Be it as thou hast said. For I must think,
That surely to no vulgar tale these chiefs
Would yield a light belief; and our poor stores
Must speedily, ye know, be clean consumed.
Spread then the joyful tidings through the troops
That God hath to deliver the oppress'd,
As in old time, raised up a Prophetess,
And the belief itself will make them fight
With irresistible courage."
                              Thus the chief,
And what he said seem'd good. The men of Orleans,
Long by their foemen bay'd, such transport felt,
As when the Mexicans,[1] with eager eye
Gazing to Huixachtla's distant top,
On that last night, doubtful if ever morn
Again shall cheer them, mark the mystic fire
Flame on the breast of some brave prisoner,
A dreadful altar. As they see the blaze
Beaming on Iztapalapan's near towers,
Or on Tezcuco's calmy lake flash'd far,
Songs of thanksgiving and the shout of joy
Wake the loud echo; the glad husband tears
The mantling aloe from his consort's face,
And children, now deliver'd from the dread
Of everlasting darkness, look abroad,
Hail the good omen, and expect the sun
Uninjur'd still to run his flaming race.

While thus in Orleans hope had banished sleep,
The Maiden's host perform'd their evening prayer,
And in the forest took their rest secure.
And now the morning came. At earliest dawn
Lightly upstarting, and bedight in arms,
The Bastard moved along, with provident eye
Marshalling the troops. All high in hope they march;
And now the sun shot from the southern sky
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 ardor 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
Her holy banner.'" To the English camp
Fearless the herald went.
                          At mid-day meal,
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,
"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;
To this a laugh succeeds. "What!" Fastolffe cried,
"A virgin warrior hath your monarch sent

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