[Exit.
Widow at the back.
Wid. No!
Not by such villainy shall her career
Be ended. I'll follow her, and save her!
Scene V.—Compeigne in the distance. Troops pass. A distant storm.
Widow.
Wid. The city's walls are distant yet,
And weary with the way I sink exhausted.
How black the sky! a fearful storm is near.
That flash! hark! the low thunder threat'ning growls!
The trumpet's call I hear: and now bright swords
Gleam in the darkness! I must not tarry.
[Exit.
Field of Battle.
Joan, Xaintrailles, French Officers.