All these towns and spires looked peaceful, but all were held by the Burgundians.

Men-at-arms were thick on the crest of our boulevard, and on the gate-keep, all looking across the river towards the town, whence the Maid should sally by way of the bridge.

So there I lay on a couch in the window and waited, having no fear, but great joy.
Nay, never have I felt my spirit lighter within me, so that I laughed and chattered like a fey man.

The fresh air, after my long lying in a chamber, stirred me like wine.

The May sun shone warm, yet cooled with a sweet wind of the west.