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JOAN OF ARC.
Full on his treacherous helm he smote: it burst, And the stern Earl against his fenceless head 605Drives with strong arm the murderous sword. She saw—She knew—she could not save—her Theodore.
Conrade beheld, and from his vanquish'd foe Strode terrible in vengeance. Front to front They stood, and each for the death-blow prepar'd 610His angry might. At once their weapons fell, The Frank's huge battle-axe, and the keen sword Of Talbot. He, stunn'd by the weighty blow, Sunk senseless; by his followers from the field Conveyed with fearful speed: nor did his stroke 615Fall vainly on the Frenchman's crested helm, Tho' weak to wound, for from his eyes the fire Sparkled, and back recoiling with the blow, He in the Maiden's arms astounded fell.
But now their troops all captainless confus'd, 620Fear seized the English. Not with more dismay

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