veiled your silent march, And your dread presence to the foe proclaim. By your loud battle-cry—God and the maiden! ALL (exclaim aloud, amidst the loud clang of arms). God and the maiden!                  [Drums and trumpets. SENTINELS (behind the scene). The foe! The foe! The foe! JOHANNA. Ho! torches here. Hurl fire into the tents! Let the devouring flames augment the horror, While threatening death doth compass them around!        [Soldiers hasten on, she is about to follow. DUNOIS (holding her back). Thy part thou hast accomplished now, Johanna! Into the camp thou hast conducted us, The foe thou hast delivered in our hands, Now from the rush of war remain apart! The bloody consummation leave to us. LA HIRE. Point out the path of conquest to the host; Before us, in pure hand, the banner bear. But wield the fatal weapon not thyself; Tempt not the treacherous god of battle, for He rageth blindly, and he spareth not. JOHANNA. Who dares impede my progress? Who presume The spirit to control which guideth me? Still must the arrow wing its destined flight! Where danger is, there must Johanna be; Nor now, nor here, am I foredoomed to fall; Our monarch's royal brow I first must see Invested with the round of sovereignty. No hostile power can rob me of my life, Till I've accomplished the commands of God.                   [She goes out. LA HIRE. Come, let us follow after her, Dunois, And let our valiant bosoms be her shield!                     [Exit. 

  

       SCENE V.     

       ENGLISH SOLDIERS hurry over the stage. Afterwards TALBOT. 1 SOLDIER. The maiden in the camp! 2 SOLDIER. Impossible! It cannot be! How came she in the camp? 3 SOLDIER. Why, through the air! The devil aided her! 4 AND 5 SOLDIERS. Fly! fly! We are dead men! TALBOT (enters). They heed me not! They stay not at my call! The sacred bands of discipline are loosed! As hell had poured her damned legions forth, A wild, distracting impulse whirls along, In one mad throng, the cowardly and brave. I cannot rally e'en the smallest troop To form a bulwark gainst the hostile flood, Whose raging billows press into our camp! Do I alone retain my sober senses, While all around in wild delirium rave? To fly before these weak, degenerate Frenchmen Whom we in twenty battles have overthrown? Who is she then—the irresistible—    The dread-inspiring goddess, who doth turn At once the tide of battle, and transform The lions bold a herd of timid deer? A 

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