Val. Clouds have obscured the sun, and veiled the sky.
The omen is an evil one!
Xaint. To whom?
What greater fury rent the vaulted sky
At Orlean's fight, or Patay's gallant field?
Let him his sentence read in signs who wills;
Brave men no omen fear but lukewarm hearts.
Val. That ill-timed taunt thou shalt repent ere long.
I'll lead where few shall dare to follow.
Joan. Cease!
Waste not the time in words! renew the attack!
These guard our rear—Xaintrailles must lead with me.
Val. Shall I then be forgot? E'en on this field
Must I receive fresh proof of hate?
Joan. Forbear!
Love is not ours, but hate thee, Valancour!
Oh! wrong me not so sorely.
Val. No matter,
Loved or despised I will be first in danger!
And if I meet with death I'll welcome him,
As sent from thee.
[Exit.
Joan. We must not lose such friend,
Nor let his gallant bearing shame ourselves!
Xaint. None here dispute thy wish: lead on!