Descend to Moses in the bush of flame,

And bade him go and stand in Pharaoh's sight-

Who once to Israel's pious shepherd came,

And sent him forth, his champion in the fight,-

Who aye hath loved the lowly shepherd train,-

He, from these leafy boughs, thus spake to me,

'Go forth! Thou shalt on earth my witness be.

'Thou in rude armor must thy limbs invest,

A plate of steel upon thy bosom wear;

Vain earthly love may never stir thy breast,

Nor passion's sinful glow be kindled there.

Ne'er with the bride-wreath shall thy locks be dressed,

Nor on thy bosom bloom an infant fair;

But war's triumphant glory shall be thine;

Thy martial fame all women's shall outshine.

'For when in fight the stoutest hearts despair,

When direful ruin threatens France, forlorn,

Then thou aloft my oriflamme shalt bear,

And swiftly as the reaper mows the corn,

Thou shalt lay low the haughty conqueror;

His fortune's wheel thou rapidly shalt turn,

To Gaul's heroic sons deliverance bring,

Relieve beleaguered Rheims, and crown thy king!'

The heavenly spirit promised me a sign;

He sends the helmet, it hath come from him.

Its iron filleth me with strength divine,

I feel the courage of the cherubim;

As with the rushing of a mighty wind

It drives me forth to join the battles din;

The clanging trumpets sound, the chargers rear,

And the loud war-cry thunders in mine ear.

[She goes out.

ACT I.

SCENE I.

The royal residence at Chinon.

DUNOIS and DUCHATEL.

DUNOIS.

No longer I'll endure it. I renounce

This recreant monarch who forsakes himself.

My valiant heart doth bleed, and I could rain

Hot tear-drops from mine eyes, that robber-swords

Partition thus the royal realm of France;

That cities, ancient as the monarchy,

Deliver to the foe the rusty keys,

While here in idle and inglorious ease

We lose the precious season of redemption.

Tidings of Orleans' peril reach mine ear,

Hither I sped from distant Normandy,

Thinking, arrayed in panoply of war,

To find the monarch with his marshalled hosts;

And find him-here! begirt with troubadours,

And juggling knaves, engaged in solving riddles,

And planning festivals in Sorel's honor,

As brooded o'er the land profoundest peace!

The Constable hath gone; he will not brook

Longer the spectacle of shame. I, too,

Depart, and leave him to his evil fate.

DUCHATEL.

Here comes the king.

SCENE II.

KING CHARLES. The same.

CHARLES.

The Constable hath sent us back his sword

And doth renounce our service. Now, by heaven!

He thus hath rid us of a churlish man,

Who insolently sought to lord it o'er us.

DUNOIS.

A man is precious in such perilous times;

I would not deal thus lightly with his loss.

CHARLES.

Thou speakest thus from love of opposition;

While he was here thou never wert his friend.

DUNOIS.

He was a tiresome, proud, vexatious fool,

Who never could resolve. For once, however,

He hath resolved. Betimes he goeth hence,

Where honor can no longer be achieved.

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