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.