CHARLES (returning his sword).
Not so! Rude war
Respects each pious office; you are free
To render the last honors to the dead,
Go now, Duchatel—still my Agnes trembles—
Hasten to snatch her from anxiety—
Bring her the tidings of our victory,
And usher her in triumph into Rheims!
[Exit DUCHATEL.
SCENE VIII.
The same. LA HIRE.
DUNOIS.
La Hire, where is the maiden?
LA HIRE.
That I ask
Of you; I left her fighting by your side.
DUNOIS.
I thought she was protected by your arm,
When I departed to assist the king.
BURGUNDY.
Not long ago I saw her banner wave
Amidst the thickest of the hostile ranks.
DUNOIS.
Alas! where is she? Evil I forebode?
Come, let us haste to rescue her. I fear
Her daring soul hath led her on too far;
Alone she combats in the midst of foes,
And without succor yieldeth to the crowd.
CHARLES.
Haste to her rescue!