WID. And thou art come at last, O lovely death! And I shall die as died my lord, my boys, By bloody sword! there's joy in that. Strength fails, Yet must I see her.
JOAN. Thou on this field! Release thy hold! one moment lost we lose A friend!
WID. A foe! tool of a baser villain! He seeks thy death. A weary way I've sped To gain thy speech, and now life ebbs so fast-- See! they have pierced my side--that scarce the tale-- Richemont has sold thy life, and Valancour-- I told thee, if we met---- [_Dies._
JOAN. Man, man abandons me, Not Heaven! we are betrayed, but not by thee! And see! the beauteous bow his hand hath bent, And token made of peace, where mercy sits To smile away despair. My spirit's free, And my heart beats as formerly 'twas wont. Forward, ye brave! Remember Orlean's walls, And let us pluck, if not the conqueror's crown, A wreath to deck the grave our land shall hallow. For the last time, Xaintrailles, wilt follow me?
XAINT. Wherever thou shalt lead--be it to death! [_Exeunt._
Make prisoner of the maid! touch not her life Unless compelled. Ne'er quail and look aghast! She waves no consecrated banner now! See Valancour retreats!--now hem her round. [_Exeunt._
JOAN. Heed it not! tarry no longer; 'Tis of slight moment. Du Nois!--this faintness-- Leave me here. Cut through thy way to join him, And all may yet be well!
JOAN. Save him, Heaven! never more shall I behold him! Oh! I am faint almost to death! [_Leans on a tree._
JOAN. Never whilst strength Remains. (_Shields herself._)
JOAN. Stand off! nor dare to touch me! My life, if Heaven have so decreed, be yours; Free have I lived! free will I die! [_As she is beaten on her knees VALANCOUR enters._
JOAN. It is too late! deserved I this? I pardon-- [_Faints--the Soldiers bear her off._
DU N. Turn, traitor! villain! Stand on thy guard!
VAL. Seekst thou revenge!--'tis thine! Here in the shout that rings upon my ear, Here in the glance that curst me with forgiveness. I will not fight with thee, Du Nois! nor will I face an honourable man again. [_Exit._
DU NOIS. Go to thy fate! While I will never sheathe this sword till I Have rescued or avenged her!
CHA. We need no supplication from a friend: Thine own desire to pluck her from such fate Is not more strong than ours. But what devise?