The Maid of Orleans: A Tragedy - BestLightNovel.com
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FASTOLFE (to JOHANNA).
Thou knowest what awaits thee, now implore A blessing on the weapons of thy people.
[Exit.
SCENE XI.
ISABEL, JOHANNA, SOLDIERS.
JOHANNA.
Ay! that I will! no power can hinder me.
Hark to that sound, the war-march of my people!
How its triumphant notes inspire my heart!
Ruin to England! victory to France!
Up, valiant countrymen! The maid is near; She cannot, as of yore, before you bear Her banner--she is bound with heavy chains; But freely from her prison soars her soul, Upon the pinions of your battle-song.
ISABEL (to a SOLDIER).
Ascend the watch-tower which commands the field, And thence report the progress of the fight.
[SOLDIER ascends.
JOHANNA.
Courage, my people! 'Tis the final struggle-- Another victory, and the foe lies low!
ISABEL.
What see'st thou?
SOLDIER.
They're already in close fight.
A furious warrior on a Barbary steed, In tiger's skin, leads forward the gens d'armes.
JOHANNA.
That's Count Dunois! on, gallant warrior!
Conquest goes with thee.
SOLDIER.
The Burgundian duke Attacks the bridge.
ISABEL.
Would that ten hostile spears Might his perfidious heart transfix, the traitor!
SOLDIER.
Lord Fastolfe gallantly opposes him.
Now they dismount--they combat man to man Our people and the troops of Burgundy.
ISABEL.
Behold'st thou not the Dauphin? See'st thou not The royal wave?
SOLDIER.
A cloud of dust Shrouds everything. I can distinguish naught.
JOHANNA.
Had he my eyes, or stood I there aloft, The smallest speck would not elude my gaze!
The wild fowl I can number on the wing, And mark the falcon in his towering flight.
SOLDIER.
There is a fearful tumult near the trench; The chiefs, it seems, the n.o.bles, combat there.
ISABEL.
Still doth our banner wave?
SOLDIER.
It proudly floats.
JOHANNA.
Could I look through the loopholes of the wall, I with my lance the battle would control.
SOLDIER.
Alas! What do I see? Our general's Surrounded by the foe!
ISABEL (points the dagger at JOHANNA).
Die, wretch!
SOLDIER (quickly).
He's free!
The gallant Fastolfe in the rear attacks The enemy--he breaks their serried ranks.
ISABEL (withdrawing the dagger).
There spoke thy angel!
SOLDIER.
Victory! They fly.
ISABEL.
Who fly?
SOLDIER.
The French and the Burgundians fly; The field is covered o'er with fugitives.
JOHANNA.
My G.o.d! Thou wilt not thus abandon me!
SOLDIER.
Yonder they lead a sorely wounded knight; The people rush to aid him--he's a prince.
ISABEL.
One of our country, or a son of France?
