Its bulk of waters, though amid the fall
Shatter’d, and dashing silvery from the rock.
Lo! on the bridge forth comes the undaunted man,
Conrade! the gather’d foes along the wall
Throng opposite, and on him point their pikes, 325
Cresting with armed men the battlements
He undismay’d, though on that perilous height,
Stood firm, and hurl’d his javelin; the keen point
Pierced through the destined victim, where his arm
Join’d the broad breast: a wound which skilful care
Haply had heal’d; but, him disabled now 331
For farther service, the unpitying throng
Of his tumultuous comrades from the wall
Thrust headlong. Nor did Conrade cease to throw
His deadly javelins fast, for well within 335
The tower was stored with weapons, to his hand
Quickly supplied. Nor did the mission’d Maid
Rest idle from the combat; she, secure,
Aim’d the keen quarrel, taught the cross-bow’s use
By the willing mind that what it well desires 340
Gains aptly: nor amid the numerous throng,
Though haply erring from their destin’d mark,
Sped her sharp arrows frustrate. From the tower
Ceaseless the bow-strings twang: the knights below,
Each by his pavais bulwark’d, thither aim’d 345
Their darts, and not a dart fell woundless there;
So thickly throng’d they stood, and fell as fast
As when the monarch of the East goes forth
From Gemna’s banks and the proud palaces
Of Delhi, the wild monsters of the wood 350
Die in the blameless warfare: closed within
The still-contracting circle, their brute force
Wasting in mutual rage, they perish there,
Or by each other’s fury lacerate,
The archer’s barbed arrow, or the lance 355
Of some bold youth of his first exploits vain,
Rajah or Omrah, in the war of beasts
Venturous, and learning thus the love of blood.
Shouts of alarm ring now along the wall, 359
For now the French their scaling ladders place,
And bearing high their bucklers, to the assault
Mount fearless: from above the furious troops
Fling down such weapons as inventive care
Or frantic rage supplies: huge stones and beams
Crush the assailants; some, thrust from the height,
Fall living to their death; tormented some 366
And writhing wildly as the liquid lead
Consumes their flesh, leap desperately down,
To end their pain by death. Still others mount,
And by their fellows’ fate unterrified, 370
Still dare the perilous way. Nor dangerless
To the English was the fight, though where they stood
The vantage-place was theirs; for them amidst
Fast fled the arrows there; and brass-wing’d darts,
There driven resistless from the espringal, 375
Keeping their impulse even in the wound,
Whirl as they pierce the victim. Some fall crush’d
Beneath the ponderous fragment that descends
The heavier from its height: some the long lance,
Whizzing impetuous on its viewless way, 380
Transfix’d. The cannon ever and anon
With thunder rent the air; conflicting shouts
And war-cries French and English rung around,
And Saints and Devils were invoked in prayers
And execrations, Heaven and Hell adjured. 385
Conrade, meantime, who stood upon the bridge,
With many a well-aim’d javelin dealing death,
Made way upon the rampart and advanced
With wary valour o’er his slaughter’d foes.
Two youths, the boldest of the English host, 390
Essay’d to thrust him from that perilous height;
At once they press’d upon him: he, his axe
Dropping, the dagger drew: one through the throat
He pierced, and swinging his broad buckler round,
Struck down his comrade. Even thus unmoved,
Stood Corineus, the sire of Guendolen, 396
When grappling with his monstrous enemy
He the brute vastness held aloft, and bore,
And headlong hurl’d, all shatter’d to the sea,
Down from the rock’s high summit, since that day
Him, hugest of the giants, chronicling, 401
Called Langoemagog.
Behold the Maid
Bounds o’er the bridge, and to the wind displays
Her hallowed banner. At that welcome sight
A general shout of acclamation rose, 405
And loud, as when the tempest-tossing forest
Roars to the roaring wind. Then terror seized
The garrison; and tired anew with hope,
The fierce assailants to their prize rush on
Resistless. Vainly do their English foes 410
Hurl there their beams, and stones, and javelins,
And fire-brands; fearless in the escalade,
The assailants mount, and now upon the wall
Wage equal battle.
Burning at the sight
With indignation, Glacidas beheld 415
His troops fly scatter’d; fast on every side
The foe up-rushing eager to their spoil;
The holy standard waving; and the Maid
Fierce in pursuit. “Speed but this arrow, Heaven!”
The chief exclaim’d, “and I shall fall content.”
So saying, he his sharpest quarrel chose, 421
And fix’d the bow-string, and against the Maid
Levelling, let loose: her arm was raised on high
To smite a fugitive; he glanced aside,
Shunning her deadly stroke, and thus received 425
The chieftain’s arrow: through his ribs it pass’d,
And cleft that vessel whence the purer blood
Through many a branching channel o’er the frame
Meanders.
“Fool!” the exasperate knight exclaim’d,
“Would she had slain thee! thou hast lived too long.”
Again he aim’d his arbalist: the string 431
Struck forceful: swift the erring arrow sped
Guiltless of blood, for lightly o’er the court
Bounded the warrior Virgin. Glacidas
Levell’d his bow again; the fated shaft 435
Fled true, and difficultly through the mail
Pierced to her neck, and tinged its point with blood.
“She bleeds! she bleeds!” exulting cried the chief;
“The sorceress bleeds! nor all her hellish arts
Can charm my arrows from their destin’d course.”
Ill-fated man! in vain with eager hand 441
Placing thy feather’d quarrel in its groove,
Dream’st thou of Joan subdued! She from her neck
Plucking the shaft unterrified, exclaim’d,
“This is a favour! Frenchmen, let us on!
“ 5
Escape they cannot from the hand of God!”
But Conrade, rolling round his angry eyes,
Beheld the English chieftain as he arm’d
Again the bow: with rapid step he strode;
And Glacidas perceiving his approach, 450
At him the quarrel turn’d, which vainly sent,
Fell blunted from his buckler. Conrade came
And lifting high the deadly battle-axe,
Through pouldron and through shoulder deeply driven
Buried it in his bosom: prone he fell, 455
The cold air rush’d upon his heaving heart.
One whose lo
w lineage gave no second name
Was Glacidas, a gallant man, and still
His memory in the records of the foe
Survives.
And now dishearten’d at his fall 460
The vanquish’d English fly towards the gate,
Seeking the inner court, as yet in hope
To abide a second siege, and with their friends
Find present refuge there. Mistaken men!
The vanquish’d have no friends! defeated thus,
Press’d by pursuit, in vain with eager voice 466
They call their comrades in the suppliant tones
Of pity now, now with the bitter curse
Of fruitless anger; they indeed within
Fast from the ramparts cast upon the French 470
Beams, stones, and javelins,.. but the gate is barr’d,
The huge portcullis down!
Then terror seized
Their hopeless hearts: some, furious in despair,
Turn on their foes; fear-palsied some await
The coming death; some drop the useless sword,
And cry for mercy.
Then the Maid of Arc 476
Took pity on the vanquish’d; and she call’d
Aloud, and cried unto the host of France,
And bade them cease from slaughter. They obey’d
The delegated Damsel. Some there were 480
Apart who communed murmuring, and of those
Graville address’d her: “Prophetess! our troops
Are few in number; and to well secure
These many prisoners such a force demands,
As should we spare might shortly make us need
The mercy we bestow; not mercy then, 386
Rather to these our soldiers, cruelty.
Justice to them, to France, and to our king,
And that regard wise nature hath in each
Implanted of self-safety, all demand 490
Their deaths.”
“Foul fall such evil policy!”
The indignant Maid exclaim’d. “I tell thee, chief,
GOD is with us! but GOD shall hide his face
From them, short-sighted they, as hard of heart,
Who disregarding all that mitigates, 495
All that ennobles dreadful war, shed blood
Like water; who in the deceitful scales
Of worldly wisdom, dare to counterpoise
The right with the expedient, and resolve
Without compunction, as the beam inclines 500
Held in a faultering or a faithless hand.
These men shall live to see their homes again,
Some to be welcomed there with tears of joy
By those who to the latest hour of life
Will in their grateful prayers remember us. 505
And when that hour shall come to us, that comes
To all, how gladly should we then exchange
Renown however splendid, for the thought
That we have saved one victim from the sword,..
If only one,.. who begs for us from Heaven 510
That mercy which to others we have shown!”
Turning to Conrade, then she said, “Do thou
Appoint an escort for the prisoners.
Thou need’st not be reminded they are men,
Rather by fortune, or by fate, than choice, 515
Brought hither from their homes to work our bale,
And for their own not less; but yielded thus
Whom we must neither treat as enemies
Nor trust as friends, but in safe keeping hold,
Both for their own security and ours.” 520
She said: when Conrade cast his eyes around,
And saw from man to man where Francis ran,
Bidding them spare the vanquish’d; him he hail’d.
“The Maid hath bade me chuse a leader forth
To guard the prisoners; thou shalt be the man;
For thou wilt guard them with due diligence, 526
Yet not forgetful of humanity.”
Meantime the garrison of that strong-hold,
Who lest the French should enter, had exposed
Their comrades to the sword, sustain’d the siege
In desperate valour. Fast against the walls 531
The battering-ram was driven; the mangonels
Plied at the ramparts fast; the catapults
Drove there their dreadful darts; the war-wolfs there
Hurl’d their huge stones; and, through the kindled sky,
The engines shower’d their sheets of liquid fire. 536
“Feel ye not, comrades, how the ramparts shake?”
Exclaim’d a daring Englishman. “Our foes
In woman-like compassion, have dismiss’d
A powerful escort, weakening thus themselves, 540
And giving us fair hope, in equal field,
Of better fortune. Sorely here annoy’d,
And slaughter’d by their engines from afar,
We perish. Vainly may the soldier boast
Undaunted courage and the arm of strength, 545
If thus pent up, like some wild beast he falls,
Mark’d for the hunter’s arrows. Let us out
And meet them in the battle, man to man,
Either to conquer, or at least to die 549
A soldier’s death.”
“Nay, nay.. not so,” replied
One of less hopeful courage. “Though they point
Their engines here, our archers not in vain
Discharge their quarrels. Let the walls and works
Still be defended; it will then be time
To meet them in the battle man to man, 555
When these shall fail us.”
Scarcely had he said,
When a huge stone, thrown from some petrary
Smote him upon the breast, and with dismay
Fill’d all around; for as it shattered him,,
His blood besprinkled them, and they beheld 560
His mangled lungs lie quivering.
“Such the fate
Of those who trust them to their walls’ defence!”
Again exclaim’d the soldier: “Thus they fall,
Betray’d by their own fears. Courage alone
Can save us.”
Nor to draw them from the fort
Now needed eloquence; with one accord 56
They bade him lead the onset Forth they rush’d
Impetuous. With such fury o’er the plain,
Swoln by the autumnal tempest, Vega rolls
His rapid waters, when the gathered storm, 570
Ou the black heights of Hatteril bursting, swells
The tide of desolation..
Then the Maid
Spake to the son of Orleans, “Let our troops
Fall back, so shall the English in pursuit
Leave this strong fortress, thus an easy prey.” 575
Time was not for long counsel. From the court,
Obedient to Dunois, the French retire
As if at the irruption of their foes
Dishearten’d; they, with shouts and loud uproar,
Haste to their fancied conquest: Joan, the while
Placing a small but gallant garrison, 581
Bade them secure the gates; then sallying forth,
With such fierce onset charged them in the rear,
That terror smote the English, and they wish’d
Again that they might hide them in their walls 585
Rashly abandoned, for now wheeling round
Dunois attack’d their flank. All captainless,
Ill-marshall’d, ill-directed, in vain rage
They waste their furious efforts, falling fast
Before the Maid’s good falchion and the arm 590
Of Conrade: loud was heard the mingled sound
Of arms and men; the soil, that trampled late
By multitudes, sent up its stifling clouds
<
br /> Of dust, was miry now with human blood.
On the fort’s summit Talbot mark’d the fight,
And calling for his arms impatiently, 596
Eager to issue forth, was scarce withheld,
For now, dishearten’d and discomfited,
The troops took flight.
Upon the bridge there stood
A strong-built tower, commanding o’er the Loire.
The traveller sometimes linger’d on his way, 601
Marking the playful tenants of the stream,
Seen in its shadow, stem the sea-ward tide;
This had the invaders won in hard assault,
Before the delegate of Heaven came forth 605
And made them fear who never fear’d till then.
Thither the English troops with hasty steps
Retired, not utterly defeated yet,
But mindful of defence: the garrison
Them thus retreating saw, and open threw 610
Their guarded gates, and on the Gallic host,
Covering their vanquish’d fellows, pour’d their shafts.
Cheek’d in pursuit they stop. Then Graville cried,
“Ill, Maiden, hast thou done! those valiant troops
Thy womanish pity has dismiss’d, with us 615
Conjoin’d might press upon the vanquish’d foe,
Though aided thus, and plant the lilied flag
Victorious on yon tower.”
“Dark-minded man!”
The Maid of Orleans answer’d, “to act well
Brings with itself an ample recompence. 620
I have not rear’d the Oriflamme of death..
Now God forbid! The banner of the Lord
Is this, and come what will, me it behoves,
Mindful of Him whose minister I am,
To spare the fallen foe: that gracious God 625
Sends me a messenger of mercy forth,
Sends me to save this ravaged realm of France,
To England friendly as to all the world,
Only to those an enemy, whose lust
Of sway makes them the enemies of man.” 630
She said, and suddenly threw off her helm;
Her bosom heaved,.. her cheek grew red,.. her eyes
Beam’d with a wilder lustre. “Thou dost deem
That I have illy spared so large a band,
Disabling from pursuit our weaken’d troops;.. 635
God is with us!” she cried.. “God is with us!
Our champion manifest!”
Even as she spake,
The tower, the bridge, and all its multitudes,
Complete Poetical Works of Robert Southey Page 15