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determined his wavering resolution.

Her courage

animates the army; they advance to Paris through those really fortunate fields, that happy country, where peace and love have fixed their dwelling.

When they reach Paris, the King commands his oldest Herald to go and summon the Citizens to surrender; Amaury deems this a good opportunity to re-estabFish his character, or die nobly, and he accompanies

the herald.

But Bedford, in order to render the citizens desperate, conceives the most horrible of plans; he communicates it to Millington, the captain of the guard, and when the Herald has finished his speech, Millington cries out to the guard to punish his insolence, and make him an example to his comrades. Satan mingles his infernal breath with his words, and they kill the herald. Amaury escapes, relates the murder to Charles, and inspires all who hear him with indignation and rage. The devil promulgates among the citizens threats of merciless vengeance, and makes them desperate; and whilst Amaury is vomiting blasphemy after blasphemy, against the Parisians, he descends to hell, kindles two torches at the infernal fires, ascends again, and delivers them to Amaury, who sets fire to the suburbs.

Till this time, neither party had employed fire in their wars; now every kind of horrour is multiplied; the Maid

has just gained the ramparts, when she beholds the flames. A sudden fear thrills her, she prays God to moderate this fury, and forgive the cruelties of the French; she abandons the advantages she had gained, and in a voice of thunder, bids them cease from this damnable assault. "What do I see, Charles!" she exclaims; "this is the work of hell! abandon the attack. Let us, henceforth, combat only in the face of day." Tanneguy seconds her advice, and the French

retreat.

THE ELEVENTH BOOK.

Bedford loses no time in preparing for the assault. Talbot was scarcely yet recovered from his wounds, but on this occasion, he forgets his ancient enmity to Bedford, and without any command, resolves to fight where his presence shall most be wanted. Another motive animates his brave son Lyonnel; he loves Maria, and in the common danger, fears only for her.

Both parties employ the night in preparations. At length the morning comes; awhile they cannonade each other; a breach is made, and the French impetuously resolve to scale it;

the Maid yields to the torrent which she is unable to stem. A desperate assault follows; the English pour boiling oil upon the besiegers, and they are every where repulsed with loss.

Dunois leaps into the town, followed by a chosen band; he attacks the Bastille. The excess of their danger weakens their fear, and they are on the point of forcing it, when Lyonnel turns the fortune of the day. After all his followers have fallen, Dunois still resists, but wounded and overpowered, he is on the point of perishing, when Maria sees his danger, hastens to him, bids him yield to her, and makes Lyonnel support his rival.

The Maid's holy fury inspires her soldiers; she advances through the storm of weapons, and ascends the wall. Talbot attacks her; after a long combat, they grapple each other; the Maid precipitates herself with him from that height, and makes him prisoner. Wounded in this attack, she extracts the weapon herself, binds up the wound, and prays to God. She beholds the army of Heaven descending to her succour, and rushes again to the wall: her soldiers fear to follow her to an assault so dangerous; "then I will go without your aid," she cries, "assisted by the squadrons of God!"

In the darkest recess of Heaven,

Shame hides herself from every eye. Her body is formed of ice, her soul of splendour; a white veil envelopes her. No virtue is pure without her, she is the eternal companion of Honour. At the words of the Maid the French felt this cold Shame arising in fire within their souls. They follow her to the assault. Bedford pours down upon her head boiling oil, a forest of darts, a deluge of arrows and the ruins of an hundred palaces, but Heaven surrounded her with a wall of diamond; they fall harmless upon her. She presses onward, and, mounted at last upon piles of the slain, sees no longer an enemy to resist her.

At this instant when the victory is compleat, the Maid and her followers are astonished to hear a retreat sounded, and from every side the cry of Treason. At this dreadful cry they are all frozen and stopt.

THE TWELFTH BOOK.

Whilst Charles was pulverizing the walls of Paris, the Devil had taken upon himself the defence of that city. He had resisted the Maid more fiercely than Talbot; he hurled back her own spear to destroy her, and when an angel averted it, instantly directed it against Amaury and killed him; then changed himself into a soldier

and ran to tell Gillon that the Maid had murdered his

son.

Charles finds Gillon weeping over the body. The spear of the Maid is in the wound. Thy Saint, says the old man, has sent thee this glorious present; this is a clear testimony what Amaury was, what she is. You have made an Idol of a Sorceress; her magic has made you the enemy of your country, and will ultimately destroy you. Great King! may you prove this prophecy false. As for me I follow my son-and he expired upon the corpse of Amaury.

Charles felt his blood freeze, his hair stood erect: he saw the spear of the Maid, he believed that she had murdered Amaury and betrayed him. The Devil deluded him. He conceives a sudden hatred for the Maid, instantly orders the retreat to be sounded, and with a voice of thunder cries out Treason, That cry terrified and astonished all, the Devil poured out another from his burning lungs, and the Maid abandons her victory to fly to the succour of the King.

Soldiers she exclaims, where is the Traitor? does the King live? whilst she is speaking, Charles approaches. Traitress come hither, he cried, and expiate thy crimes by my hand. The astonished Maid turns deathy pale, and her courage forsakes her. Go-detestable monster, cries Charles-I suffer thee to live for thy punishment;

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