SCENE III.--_Camp.

DU NOIS. XAINTRAILLES.

DU N. There is a magic In the full sweet tones of her impressive voice, Which heard but once, dwells long upon the ear, Charmed with the sound; then sinks into the heart, No more to be forgotten, pleading still When she herself is mute. How goes the hour?

XAINT. Day's harbinger, with chilly lips, has kissed The pine's tall top. The camp is locked in sleep So deep, that yon marauding fox's step Distinctly may be heard.

DU N. Sleep flies my lids-- For the first time I dread to-morrow's chance. The attempt is bold, and skilfully conceived, On Suffolk's ranks to fall, and break his force Ere Talbot can arrive and strength unite; But if the project fail!--(_Aside,_) I cannot think Of her disgraced, without a pang.

XAINT. Should fail! Who fears defeat in what the maid devises?

DU N. Heaven doth not always smile on those he loves. Time offers marvels: once the name of Joan I scorned, abhorred! I do not hate it now, Though now I've cause. She robs me of renown, And at her bidding I unsheath my sword.

XAINT. She may be proud!--a victory she has won, That spirit to subdue. She hath in truth A charm to make stern hearts most meek, and yet She is not beautiful, as men count beauty.

DU N. She is the better suited to my taste; I do despise the doll, where nought of soul Is ever seen to light the faultless eye.

XAINT. Yet glances have been cast on thee Which might have thawed the coldest heart, and caused An angry lance to tremble in its rest.

DU N. Hers is that beauty by the mind conferred, The outward vestment lumined by the soul, Which sets respect as centinel to guard The treasure stored within, and from approach Too near, restrains those whisperers of nought, Who throng impertinent around the form, Which owes to symmetry alone, and feature, Its power to fascinate. There is a dignity Withal in her simplicity, which awes The surer for the company unwont In which 'tis found. Nature herein has mocked The cunning artist's skill, who, in a rim Of purest silver sets his goodliest stone, Making the metal richer for the gem.

XAINT. Thou lovest her then?

DU N. Are words denied the heart Of firmest mould, or what enchains my tongue? If life for life, if soul for soul exchanged, So honour were retained, be mark of love, Then love I her.

XAINT. Thou surely wilt not wed her, When easier terms--

DU N. Now, by my sword's good point, For that foul thought I could a vengeance take Which should forbid all chance of like offence. Ah! witness not these swelling veins, that I Myself am heir of wanton shame, and worse, Of broken faith? Sits not the stamp accursed Of bastardy upon my brow, to dim The gems that in my coronet might sparkle? And shall I imitate the vice I scorn, And wring some breast with anguish like my own? Hear me, ye mighty Pow'rs above, if e'er, Through me, should fall the tear of broken virtue; If cry of babe that may not bear my name, Ascend, then may that tear consume my heart, And that faint cry o'erpower my prayer for mercy.

XAINT. I meant not to offend: my foolish words Thus oft disgrace my thoughts.

DU N. Enough! if mine She e'er become 't shall be in holiest bands; But if thou value me, ne'er breathe the secret. She is not to be won as other maids, And never can I brook refusal. Hark! The trumpet calls.

XAINT. I leave thee for my post.

DU N. And I for mine.