JOHANNA, DUNOIS, LA HIRE.

LA HIRE
                It is she! The maiden lives!

DUNOIS
Fear not, Johanna! friends are at thy side.

LA HIRE
Is not that Lionel who yonder flies?

DUNOIS
Let him escape! Maiden, the righteous cause
Hath triumphed now. Rheims opens wide its gates;
The joyous crowds pour forth to meet their king.

LA HIRE
What ails thee, maiden? She grows pale—she sinks!

[JOHANNA grows dizzy, and is about to fall.]

DUNOIS
She's wounded—rend her breastplate—'tis her arm!
The wound is not severe.

LA HIRE
                        Her blood doth flow.
JOHANNA
Oh, that my life would stream forth with my blood!

[She lies senseless in LA HIRE'S arms.]