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with their town was not equally approved by all the men of Orleans. Nine base citizens feared to be burnt in such beautiful flames; their fear renewed their hope, and they resolved to seek protection from the Duke of Burgundy.

It was night. Burgundy was sitting sleepless in the English camp reflecting on the insolence of Bedford. An invisible Angel descends to him, and makes a speech sound in the profundity of his heart, wounding his pride and leading to repentance. In the morning a citizen from Orleans comes to him, and intreats him to protect the town from the arms of the English and the despair of Dunois. Burgundy acquaints Bedford with this offer, who insolently replies, that no one shall attempt with impunity to protect Orleans from the English vengeance.

The Duke retires in discontent, and the citizen returns despairingly to Orleans.

Fame now had spread abroad a report that Dunois unable longer to defend Orleans had destroyed it by fire, and perished with it. This report deprives the King of his last hope. He assembles his chiefs, expresses his despair, and declares that he will retreat to the wilds of Dauphiné, preferring exile to captivity. His Counsellors are silent; and Charles rises to depart with this resolution.

Quand il voit, vers la porte, un mobile nuage
S'avancer contre luy, traverser son passage,

Estinceler, se fendre, et descouvrir aux yeux Un portrait animé des merveilles des Cieux. Le nüage, en son sein, comme en une ample scene, Luy monstre une Bergere, ou plutost une Reyne; Tant d'eclat rejalit, tant de majesté sort De son air venerable, et de son grave port. Se taille est plus qu'humaine, et dans sa haute mine Reluit l'impression de la Grace divine ; Elle a la front modeste, et son severe aspect Des moins respectüeux attire le respect. Son poil brun, qui se frise en boucles naturelles, Acompagne le feu de ses noires prunelles, Et l'on voit en son teint, d'eternelle fraischeur, La rougeur se confondre avecque la blancheur. Les douceurs, les sousris, les attraits, ni les charmes, De ce visage altier ne forment point les armes ; Il est beau de luy-mesme, il donte sans charmer, Et fait qu'on le revere, et qu'on n'ose l’aymer. Pour tous soins une fiere et sainte negligence, De sa masle beauté rehausse l'excellence. Et, par ses ornemens, ouvrages du hazard, Rend la nature, en luy, plus aymable que l'art. Une innocente flamme, ainsi qu'une couronne, Dore sa tresse brune, et sa teste environne; Mais d'un divin brasier ses regards flamboyans Percent et bruslent tout de leur traits foudroyans. Son geste, bien que sage, est plein de hardiesse ; Sa contenance est humble, et pourtant sans bassesse ; Et sa condition ne paroist nullement,

Si non par sa houlette et par son vestement.
Le Ciel, pour la former, fit un rare meslange
Des vertus d'une Fille, et d'un Homme et d'un Ange;
D'on vint parestre au jour cet astre des François,
Qui ne fut pas un d'eux, et qui fut tous les trois.

That instant he beheld a moving cloud
Sail on and cross his way; it flash'd awhile,
Then cleaving gave to his astonish'd view
A living portrait of the miracles
Of Heaven. A Shepherdess, or rather Queen
(Such majesty adorned her serious port)
Embosomed there appeared. Statelier her height
Than human; on her countenance there beam'd
The Grace divine ; her look severe, her front
Of modesty even from the scoffer forced
Respect: the clustered auburn of her hair
Assorted with the dark glance of her eye ;
And purest red and white made on her cheek
Health's lovely intermixture. Gentleness
And smiles and dimpled sweetness did not form
Her loftier charms, she charmed not-but subdued.
They who beheld her yielded reverence,
But did not dare to love. No woman wiles
Had she; a bold and holy negligence
Ennobled her strong beauties. Round her brow,
Gilding her tresses brown luxuriance,
Unharming play'd a coronet of fire,
But the arrowed lightning of her looks transpierced

All hearts: her mien was calm and confident
In dignified humility. The crook
And garb alone bespake the Shepherdess ;
Heaven had combined the virtues of a Maid
A Man and Angel in her, and she seem'd
Neither, but all in one.

They beheld this prodigy with astonishment, but the Divine Providence breathed itself into their bosoms, and predisposed them to believe in the Mait. The King is no ways distinguished from those around them, but she singles him out, tells him Dunois still lives, that Orleans still resists the English, and that Heaven has deputed her to rescue France and crown him in Rheims. Gillon alone, inspired with jealousy, warns Charles to beware of this juggle. The Maid looks at him and he falls senseless. The King has instant faith; he immediately gives his own armour to her, but she demands the sword of Martel, consecrated by him after the defeat of the Saracens, and now concealed at Fierbois in the tomb of a holy maid. They all believe in her and are comforted. Night comes on, and the Maid betakes herself to prayer.

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Charles rose before the sun; the Warrior Maid meets him. Prince, she cried, arm all that can be armed in thy weak provinces. I shall subdue the English, but

not without soldiers. Form a camp, and though it be composed of boys and old men, God will impel theis darts. The King's commands are divulged every where, and oh prodigious effe&t! oh marvellous beyond what is human! in only six days, six thousand combatants arrived under the walls of Chinon.

In the mean time the Maid willing to spare blood writes to the English. She took the paper, an Angel guided the pen.

After dispatching this, she passes the whole night on her knees in prayer. In this holy state, among the saints, with devout sighings and pious tears she intreated heaven ta bless her arms, nor did she abate this fervour till the sixth morning when the troops were assembled.

Godefroy now arrives from Orleans to inform Charles of the distress of the inhabitants, and their desperate resolution. The Maid replies in a strain of prophecy, and the astonished Godefroy dreads her like a divinity. The convoy is prepared, and thirty vessels laden with grain. The Sword arrives from Fierbois; the strong arm of Chasteauroux is weak in presenting it to the Virgin; the flaming blade devours its prison and attempts to release itself. I went to the dark Forest of Fierbois. said he, I found the ancient temple and the cavern, 1 had the cavern opened and descended in devout horror. lenquired for the Sword, and all were ignorant respecting

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