The same. AGNES SOREL, a casket in her hand.CHARLES.My Agnes! Oh, my love! My dearest life!Thou comest here to snatch me from despair!Refuge I take within thy loving arms!Possessing thee I feel that nothing is lost.SOREL.My king, beloved![looking round with an anxious, inquiring gaze.Dunois! Say, is it true,Duchatel?DUCHATEL.'Tis, alas!SOREL.So great the need?No treasure left? The soldiers will disband?DUCHATEL.Alas! It is too true!SOREL (giving him the casket).Here-here is gold,Here too are jewels! Melt my silver down!Sell, pledge my castles—on my fair domainsIn Provence—treasure raise, turn all to gold,Appease the troops! No time to be lost![She urges him to depart.CHARLES.Well now, Dunois! Duchatel! Do ye stillAccount me poor, when I possess the crownOf womankind? She's nobly born as I;The royal blood of Valois not more pure;The most exalted throne she would adorn—Yet she rejects it with disdain, and claimsNo other title than to be my love.No gift more costly will she e'er receiveThan early flower in winter, or rare fruit!No sacrifice on my part she permits,Yet sacrificeth all she had to me!With generous spirit she doth venture allHer wealth and fortune in my sinking bark.DUNOIS.Ay, she is mad indeed, my king, as thou;She throws her all into a burning house,And draweth water in the leaky vesselOf the Danaides. Thee she will not save,And in thy ruin but involve herself.SOREL.Believe him not! Full many a time he hathPerilled his life for thee, and now, forsooth,Chafeth because I risk my worthless gold!How? Have I freely sacrificed to theeWhat is esteemed far more than gold and pearls,And shall I now hold back the gifts of fortune?Oh, come! Let my example challenge theeTo noble self-denial! Let's at onceCast off the needless ornaments of life!Thy courtiers metamorphose into soldiers;Thy gold transmute to iron; all thou hast,With resolute daring, venture for thy crown!Peril and want we will participate!Let us bestride the war-horse, and exposeOur tender person to the fiery glowOf the hot sun, take for our canopyThe clouds above, and make the stones our pillow.The rudest warrior, when he sees his kingBear hardship and privation like the meanestWill patiently endure his own hard lot!CHARLES (laughing).Ay! now is realized an ancient wordOf prophesy, once uttered by a nunOf Clairmont, in prophetic mood, who said,That through a woman's aid I o'er my foesShould triumph, and achieve my father's crown.Far off I sought her in the English camp;I strove to reconcile a mother's heart;Here stands the heroine—my guide to Rheims!My Agnes! I shall triumph through thy love!SOREL.Thou'lt triumph through the valiant swords of friends.CHARLES.And from my foes' dissensions much I hopeFor sure intelligence hath reached mine ear,That 'twixt these English lords and BurgundyThings do not stand precisely as they did;Hence to the duke I have despatched La Hire,To try if he can lead my angry vassalBack to his ancient loyalty and faith:Each moment now I look for his return.DUCHATEL (at the window).A knight e'en now dismounteth in the court.CHARLES.A welcome messenger! We soon shall learnWhether we're doomed to conquer or to yield.
The same. LA HIRE.CHARLES (meeting him).Hope bringest thou, or not? Be brief, La Hire,Out with thy tidings! What must we expect?LA HIRE.Expect naught, sire, save from thine own good sword.CHARLES.The haughty duke will not be reconciled!Speak! How did he receive my embassy?LA HIRE.His first and unconditional demand,Ere he consent to listen to thine errand,Is that Duchatel be delivered up,Whom he doth name the murderer of his sire.CHARLES.This base condition we reject with scorn!LA HIRE.Then be the league dissolved ere it commence!CHARLES.Hast thou thereon, as I commanded thee,Challenged the duke to meet him in fair fightOn Montereau's bridge, whereon his father fell?LA HIRE.Before him on the ground I flung thy glove,And said: "Thou wouldst forget thy majesty,And like a knight do battle for thy realm."He scornfully rejoined "He needed notTo fight for that which he possessed already,But if thou wert so eager for the fray,Before the walls of Orleans thou wouldst find him,Whither he purposed going on the morrow;"Thereon he laughing turned his back upon me.CHARLES.Say, did not justice raise her sacred voice,Within the precincts of my parliament?LA HIRE.The rage of party, sire, hath silenced her.An edict of the parliament declaresThee and thy race excluded from the throne.DUNOIS.These upstart burghers' haughty insolence!CHARLES.Hast thou attempted with my mother aught?LA HIRE.With her?CHARLES.Ay! How did she demean herself?LA HIRE (after a few moments' reflection).I chanced to step within St. Denis' wallsPrecisely at the royal coronation.The crowds were dressed as for a festival;Triumphal arches rose in every streetThrough which the English monarch was to pass.The way was strewed with flowers, and with huzzas,As France some brilliant conquest had achieved,The people thronged around the royal car.SOREL.They could huzza—huzza, while trampling thusUpon a gracious sovereign's loving heart!LA HIRE.I saw young Harry Lancaster—the boy—On good St. Lewis' regal chair enthroned;On either side his haughty uncles stood,Bedford and Gloucester, and before him kneeled,To render homage for his lands, Duke Philip.CHARLES.Oh, peer dishonored! Oh, unworthy cousin!LA HIRE.The child was timid, and his footing lostAs up the steps he mounted towards the throne.An evil omen! murmured forth the crowd,And scornful laughter burst on every side.Then forward stepped Queen Isabel—thy mother,And—but it angers me to utter it!CHARLES.Say on.LA HIRE.Within her arms she clasped the boy,And herself placed him on thy father's throne.CHARLES.Oh, mother! mother!LA HIRE.E'en the murderous bandsOf the Burgundians, at this spectacle,Evinced some tokens of indignant shame.The queen perceived it, and addressed the crowds,Exclaiming with loud voice: "Be grateful, Frenchmen,That I engraft upon a sickly stockA healthy scion, and redeem you fromThe misbegotten son of a mad sire!"[The KING hides his face; AGNES hastens towards himand clasps him in her arms; all the bystanders expressaversion and horror.DUNOIS.She-wolf of France! Rage-breathing Megara!CHARLES (after a pause, to the SENATORS).Yourselves have heard the posture of affairs.Delay no longer, back return to Orleans,And bear this message to my faithful town;I do absolve my subjects from their oath,Their own best interests let them now consult,And yield them to the Duke of Burgundy;'Yclept the Good, he need must prove humane.DUNOIS.What say'st thou, sire? Thou wilt abandon Orleans!SENATOR (kneels down).My king! Abandon not thy faithful town!Consign her not to England's harsh control.She is a precious jewel in the crown,And none hath more inviolate faith maintainedTowards the kings, thy royal ancestors.DUNOIS.Have we been routed? Is it lawful, sire,To leave the English masters of the field,Without a single stroke to save the town?And thinkest thou, with careless breath, forsooth,Ere blood hath flowed, rashly to give awayThe fairest city from the heart of France?CHARLES.Blood hath been poured forth freely, and in vainThe hand of heaven is visibly against me;In every battle is my host o'erthrown,I am rejected of my parliament,My capital, my people, hail me foe,Those of my blood,—my nearest relatives,—Forsake me and betray—and my own motherDoth nurture at her breast the hostile brood.Beyond the Loire we will retire, and yieldTo the o'ermastering hand of destinyWhich sideth with the English.SOREL.God forbidThat we in weak despair should quit this realm!This utterance came not from thy heart, my king,Thy noble heart, which hath been sorely rivenBy the fell deed of thy unnatural mother,Thou'lt be thyself again, right valiantlyThou'lt battle with thine adverse destiny,Which doth oppose thee with relentless ire.CHARLES (lost in gloomy thought).Is it not true? A dark and ominous doomImpendeth o'er the heaven-abandoned houseOf Valois—there preside the avenging powers,To whom a mother's crime unbarred the way.For thirty years my sire in madness raved;Already have three elder brothers beenMowed down by death; 'tis the decree of heaven,The house of the Sixth Charles is doomed to fall.SOREL.In thee 'twill rise with renovated life!Oh, in thyself have faith!—believe me, king,Not vainly hath a gracious destinyRedeemed thee from the ruin of thy house,And by thy brethren's death exalted thee,The youngest born, to an unlooked-for throneHeaven in thy gentle spirit hath preparedThe leech to remedy the thousand illsBy party rage inflicted on the land.The flames of civil discord thou wilt quench,And my heart tells me thou'lt establish peace,And found anew the monarchy of France.CHARLES.Not I! The rude and storm-vexed times requireA pilot formed by nature to command.A peaceful nation I could render happyA wild, rebellious people not subdue.I never with the sword could open heartsAgainst me closed in hatred's cold reserve.SOREL.The people's eye is dimmed, an error blinds them,But this delusion will not long endure;The day is not far distant when the loveDeep rooted in the bosom of the French,Towards their native monarch, will revive,Together with the ancient jealousy,Which forms a barrier 'twixt the hostile nations.The haughty foe precipitates his doom.Hence, with rash haste abandon not the field,With dauntless front contest each foot of ground,As thine own heart defend the town of Orleans!Let every boat be sunk beneath the wave,Each bridge be burned, sooner than carry theeAcross the Loire, the boundary of thy realm,The Stygian flood, o'er which there's no return.CHARLES.What could be done I have done. I have offered,In single fight, to combat for the crown.I was refused. In vain my people bleed,In vain my towns are levelled with the dust.Shall I, like that unnatural mother, seeMy child in pieces severed with the sword?No; I forego my claim, that it may live.DUNOIS.How, sire! Is this fit language for a king?Is a crown thus renounced? Thy meanest subject,For his opinion's sake, his hate and love,Sets property and life upon a cast;When civil war hangs out her bloody flag,Each private end is drowned in party zeal.The husbandman forsakes his plough, the wifeNeglects her distaff; children, and old men,Don the rude garb of war; the citizenConsigns his town to the devouring flames,The peasant burns the produce of his fields;And all to injure or advantage thee,And to achieve the purpose of his heart.Men show no mercy, and they wish for none,When they at honor's call maintain the fight,Or for their idols or their gods contend.A truce to such effeminate pity, then,Which is not suited to a monarch's breast.Thou didst not heedlessly provoke the war;As it commenced, so let it spend its fury.It is the law of destiny that nationsShould for their monarchs immolate themselves.We Frenchmen recognize this sacred law,Nor would annul it. Base, indeed, the nationThat for its honor ventures not its all.CHARLES (to the SENATORS).You've heard my last resolve; expect no other.May God protect you! I can do no more.DUNOIS.As thou dost turn thy back upon thy realm,So may the God of battle aye avertHis visage from thee. Thou forsak'st thyself,So I forsake thee. Not the power combinedOf England and rebellious Burgundy,Thy own mean spirit hurls thee from the throne.Born heroes ever were the kings of France;Thou wert a craven, even from thy birth.[To the SENATORS.The king abandons you. But I will throwMyself into your town—my father's town—And 'neath its ruins find a soldier's grave.[He is about to depart. AGNES SOREL detains him.SOREL (to the KING).Oh, let him not depart in anger from thee!Harsh words his lips have uttered, but his heartIs true as gold. 'Tis he, himself, my king,Who loves thee, and hath often bled for thee.Dunois, confess, the heat of noble wrathMade thee forget thyself; and oh, do thouForgive a faithful friend's o'erhasty speech!Come, let me quickly reconcile your hearts,Ere anger bursteth forth in quenchless flame.[DUNOIS looks fixedly at the KING, and appears to await an answer.CHARLES.Our way lies over the Loire. Duchatel,See all our equipage embarked.DUNOIS (quickly to SOREL).Farewell.[He turns quickly round, and goes out. The SENATORS follow.SOREL (wringing her hands in despair).Oh, if he goes, we are forsaken quite!Follow, La Hire! Oh, seek to soften him![LA HIRE goes out.
CHARLES, SOREL, DUCHATEL.CHARLES.Is, then, the sceptre such a peerless treasure?Is it so hard to loose it from our grasp?Believe me, 'tis more galling to endureThe domineering rule of these proud vassals.To be dependent on their will and pleasureIs, to a noble heart, more bitter farThan to submit to fate.[To DUCHATEL, who still lingers.Duchatel, go,And do what I commanded.DUCHATEL (throws himself at the KING'S feet).Oh, my king!CHARLES.No more! Thou'st heard my absolute resolve!DUCHATEL.Sire, with the Duke of Burgundy make peace!'Tis the sole outlet from destruction left!CHARLES.Thou giv'st this counsel, and thy blood aloneCan ratify this peace.DUCHATEL.Here is my head.I oft have risked it for thee in the fight,And with a joyful spirit I, for thee,Would lay it down upon the block of death.Conciliate the duke! Deliver meTo the full measure of his wrath, and letMy flowing blood appease the ancient hate.CHARLES (looks at him for some time in silence, and with deep emotion).Can it be true? Am I, then, sunk so low,That even friends, who read my inmost heart,Point out for my escape the path of shame?Yes, now I recognize my abject fall.My honor is no more confided in.DUCHATEL.Reflect——CHARLES.Be silent, and incense me not!Had I ten realms, on which to turn my back,With my friend's life I would not purchase them.Do what I have commanded. Hence, and seeMy equipage embarked.DUCHATEL.'Twill speedilyBe done.[He stands up and retires. AGNES SOREL weeps passionately.
The royal palace at Chinon.CHARLES, AGNES SOREL.CHARLES (seizing the hand of AGNES).My Agnes, be not sorrowful!Beyond the Loire we still shall find a France;We are departing to a happier land,Where laughs a milder, an unclouded sky,And gales more genial blow; we there shall meetMore gentle manners; song abideth there,And love and life in richer beauty bloom.SOREL.Oh, must I contemplate this day of woe!The king must roam in banishment! the sonDepart, an exile from his father's house,And turn his back upon his childhood's home!Oh, pleasant, happy land that we forsake,Ne'er shall we tread thee joyously again.
LA HIRE returns, CHARLES, SOREL.SOREL.You come alone? You do not bring him back?[Observing him more closely.La Hire! What news? What does that look announce?Some new calamity?LA HIRE.CalamityHath spent itself; sunshine is now returned.SOREL.What is it? I implore you.LA HIRE (to the KING).Summon backThe delegates from Orleans.CHARLES.Why? What is it?LA HIRE.Summon them back! Thy fortune is reversed.A battle has been fought, and thou hast conquered.SOREL.Conquered! Oh, heavenly music of that word!CHARLES.La Hire! A fabulous report deceives thee;Conquered! In conquest I believe no more.LA HIRE.Still greater wonders thou wilt soon believe.Here cometh the archbishop. To thine armsHe leadeth back Dunois.SOREL.O beauteous flowerOf victory, which doth the heavenly fruitsOf peace and reconcilement bear at once!
The same, ARCHBISHOP of RHEIMS, DUNOIS, DUCHATEL,with RAOUL, a Knight in armor.ARCHBISHOP (leading DUNOIS to the KING, and joining their hands).Princes, embrace! Let rage and discord cease,Since Heaven itself hath for our cause declared.[DUNOIS embraces the KING.CHARLES.Relieve my wonder and perplexity.What may this solemn earnestness portend?Whence this unlooked-for change of fortune?ARCHBISHOP (leads the KNIGHT forward, and presents him to the KING).Speak!RAOUL.We had assembled sixteen regimentsOf Lotharingian troops to join your host;And Baudricourt, a knight of Vaucouleurs,Was our commander. Having gained the heightsBy Vermanton, we wound our downward wayInto the valley watered by the Yonne.There, in the plain before us, lay the foe,And when we turned, arms glittered in our rear.We saw ourselves surrounded by two hosts,And could not hope for conquest or for flight.Then sank the bravest heart, and in despairWe all prepared to lay our weapons down.The leaders with each other anxiouslySought counsel and found none; when to our eyesA spectacle of wonder showed itself.For suddenly from forth the thickets' depthsA maiden, on her head a polished helm,Like a war-goddess, issued; terribleYet lovely was her aspect, and her hairIn dusky ringlets round her shoulders fell.A heavenly radiance shone around the height;When she upraised her voice and thus addressed us:"Why be dismayed, brave Frenchmen? On the foe!Were they more numerous than the ocean sands,God and the holy maiden lead you on!"Then quickly from the standard-bearer's handShe snatched the banner, and before our troopWith valiant bearing strode the wondrous maid.Silent with awe, scarce knowing what we did,The banner and the maiden we pursue,And fired with ardor, rush upon the foe,Who, much amazed, stand motionless and viewThe miracle with fixed and wondering gaze.Then, as if seized by terror sent from God,They suddenly betake themselves to flight,And casting arms and armor to the ground,Disperse in wild disorder o'er the field.No leader's call, no signal now avails;Senseless from terror, without looking back,Horses and men plunge headlong in the stream,Where they without resistance are despatched.It was a slaughter rather than a fight!Two thousand of the foe bestrewed the field,Not reckoning numbers swallowed by the flood,While of our company not one was slain.CHARLES.'Tis strange, by heaven! most wonderful and strange!SOREL.A maiden worked this miracle, you say?Whence did she come? Who is she?RAOUL.Who she isShe will reveal to no one but the king!She calls herself a seer and prophetessOrdained by God, and promises to raiseThe siege of Orleans ere the moon shall change.The people credit her, and thirst for war.The host she follows—she'll be here anon.[The ringing of bells is heard, together with the clang of arms.Hark to the din! The pealing of the bells!'Tis she! The people greet God's messenger.CHARLES (to DUCHATEL).Conduct her thither.[To the ARCHBISHOP.What should I believe?A maiden brings me conquest even now,When naught can save me but a hand divine!This is not in the common course of things.And dare I here believe a miracle?MANY VOICES (behind the scene).Hail to the maiden!—the deliverer!CHARLES.She comes! Dunois, now occupy my place!We will make trial of this wondrous maid.Is she indeed inspired and sent by GodShe will be able to discern the king.[DUNOIS seats himself; the KING stands at his right hand,AGNES SOREL near him; the ARCHBISHOP and the others opposite;so that the intermediate space remains vacant.
The same. JOHANNA, accompanied by the councillors and many knights,who occupy the background of the scene; she advances with noblebearing, and slowly surveys the company.DUNOIS (after a long and solemn pause).Art thou the wondrous maiden——JOHANNA (interrupts him, regarding him with dignity).Bastard of Orleans, thou wilt tempt thy God!This place abandon, which becomes thee not!To this more mighty one the maid is sent.[With a firm step she approaches the KING, bows oneknee before him, and, rising immediately, steps back.All present express their astonishment, DUNOIS forsakeshis seat, which is occupied by the KING.
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CHARLES.Maiden, thou ne'er hast seen my face before.Whence hast thou then this knowledge?JOHANNA.Thee I sawWhen none beside, save God in heaven, beheld thee.[She approaches the KING, and speaks mysteriously.Bethink thee, Dauphin, in the bygone night,When all around lay buried in deep sleep,Thou from thy couch didst rise and offer upAn earnest prayer to God. Let these retireAnd I will name the subject of thy prayer.CHARLES.What! to Heaven confided need not beFrom men concealed. Disclose to me my prayer,And I shall doubt no more that God inspires thee.JOHANNA.Three prayers thou offeredst, Dauphin; listen nowWhether I name them to thee! Thou didst prayThat if there were appended to this crownUnjust possession, or if heavy guilt,Not yet atoned for, from thy father's times,Occasioned this most lamentable war,God would accept thee as a sacrifice,Have mercy on thy people, and pour forthUpon thy head the chalice of his wrath.CHARLES (steps back with awe).Who art thou, mighty one? Whence comest thou?[All express their astonishment.JOHANNA.To God thou offeredst this second prayer:That if it were his will and high decreeTo take away the sceptre from thy race,And from thee to withdraw whate'er thy sires,The monarchs of this kingdom, once possessed,He in his mercy would preserve to theeThree priceless treasures—a contented heart,Thy friend's affection, and thine Agnes' love.[The KING conceals his face: the spectatorsexpress their astonishment. After a pause.Thy third petition shall I name to thee?CHARLES.Enough; I credit thee! This doth surpassMere human knowledge: thou art sent by God!ARCHBISHOP.Who art thou, wonderful and holy maid?What favored region bore thee? What blest pair,Beloved of Heaven, may claim thee as their child?JOHANNA.Most reverend father, I am named Johanna,I am a shepherd's lowly daughter, bornIn Dom Remi, a village of my king.Included in the diocese of Toul,And from a child I kept my father's sheep.And much and frequently I heard them tellOf the strange islanders, who o'er the seaHad come to make us slaves, and on us forceA foreign lord, who loveth not the people;How the great city, Paris, they had seized,And had usurped dominion o'er the realm.Then earnestly God's Mother I imploredTo save us from the shame of foreign chains,And to preserve to us our lawful king.Not distant from my native village standsAn ancient image of the Virgin blest,To which the pious pilgrims oft repaired;Hard by a holy oak, of blessed power,Standeth, far-famed through wonders manifold.Beneath the oak's broad shade I loved to sitTending my flock—my heart still drew me there.And if by chance among the desert hillsA lambkin strayed, 'twas shown me in a dream,When in the shadow of this oak I slept.And once, when through the night beneath this treeIn pious adoration I had sat,Resisting sleep, the Holy One appeared,Bearing a sword and banner, otherwiseClad like a shepherdess, and thus she spake:"'Tis I; arise, Johanna! leave thy flock,The Lord appoints thee to another task!Receive this banner! Gird thee with this sword!Therewith exterminate my people's foes;Conduct to Rheims thy royal master's son,And crown him with the kingly diadem!"And I made answer: "How may I presumeTo undertake such deeds, a tender maid,Unpractised in the dreadful art of war!"And she replied: "A maiden pure and chasteAchieves whate'er on earth is gloriousIf she to earthly love ne'er yields her heart.Look upon me! a virgin, like thyself;I to the Christ, the Lord divine, gave birth,And am myself divine!" Mine eyelids thenShe touched, and when I upward turned my amaze,Heaven's wide expanse was filled with angel-boys,Who bore white lilies in their hands, while tonesOf sweetest music floated through the air.And thus on three successive nights appearedThe Holy One, and cried,—"Arise, Johanna!The Lord appoints thee to another task!"And when the third night she revealed herself,Wrathful she seemed, and chiding spake these words:"Obedience, woman's duty here on earth;Severe endurance is her heavy doom;She must be purified through discipline;Who serveth here, is glorified above!"While thus she spake, she let her shepherd garbFail from her, and as Queen of Heaven stood forthEnshrined in radiant light, while golden cloudsUpbore her slowly to the realms of bliss.[All are moved; AGNES SOREL weeping, hides her faceon the bosom of the KING.ARCHBISHOP (after a long pause).Before divine credentials such as theseEach doubt of earthly prudence must subside,Her deeds attest the truth of what she speaks,For God alone such wonders can achieve.DUNOIS.I credit not her wonders, but her eyesWhich beam with innocence and purity.CHARLES.Am I, a sinner, worthy of such favor?Infallible, All-searching eye, thou seestMine inmost heart, my deep humility!JOHANNA.Humility shines brightly in the skies;Thou art abased, hence God exalteth thee.CHARLES.Shall I indeed withstand mine enemies?JOHANNA.France I will lay submissive at thy feet!CHARLES.And Orleans, say'st thou, will not be surrendered?JOHANNA.The Loire shall sooner roll its waters back.CHARLES.Shall I in triumph enter into Rheims?JOHANNA.I through ten thousand foes will lead you there.[The knights make a noise with their lances and shields,and evince signs of courage.DUNOIS.Appoint the maiden to command the host!We follow blindly whereso'er she leads!The Holy One's prophetic eye shall guide,And this brave sword from danger shall protect her!LA HIRE.A universe in arms we will not fear,If she, the mighty one, precede our troops.The God of battle walketh by her side;Let her conduct us on to victory![The knights clang their arms and step forward.CHARLES.Yes, holy maiden, do thou lead mine host;My chiefs and warriors shall submit to thee.This sword of matchless temper, proved in war,Sent back in anger by the Constable,Hath found a hand more worthy. Prophetess,Do thou receive it, and henceforward be——JOHANNA.No, noble Dauphin! conquest to my liegeIs not accorded through this instrumentOf earthly might. I know another swordWherewith I am to conquer, which to thee,I, as the Spirit taught, will indicate;Let it be hither brought.CHARLES.Name it, Johanna.JOHANNA.Send to the ancient town of Fierbois;There in Saint Catherine's churchyard is a vaultWhere lie in heaps the spoils of bygone war.Among them is the sword which I must use.It by three golden lilies may be known,Upon the blade impressed. Let it be broughtFor thou, my liege, shalt conquer through this sword.CHARLES.Perform what she commands.JOHANNA.And a white banner,Edged with a purple border, let me bear.Upon this banner let the Queen of HeavenBe pictured with the beauteous Jesus childFloating in glory o'er this earthly ball.For so the Holy Mother showed it me.CHARLES.So be it as thou sayest.JOHANNA (to the ARCHBISHOP).Reverend bishop;Lay on my head thy consecrated hands!Pronounce a blessing, Father, on thy child![She kneels down.ARCHBISHOP.Not blessings to receive, but to dispenseArt thou appointed. Go, with power divine!But we are sinners all and most unworthy.[She rises: a PAGE enters.PAGE.A herald from the English generals.JOHANNA.Let him appear, for he is sent by God![The KING motions to the PAGE, who retires.
The HERALD. The same.CHARLES.Thy tidings, herald? What thy message! Speak!HERALD.Who is it, who for Charles of Valois,The Count of Pointhieu, in this presence speaks?DUNOIS.Unworthy herald! base, insulting knave!Dost thou presume the monarch of the FrenchThus in his own dominions to deny?Thou art protected by thine office, else——HERALD.One king alone is recognized by France,And he resideth in the English camp.CHARLES.Peace, peace, good cousin! Speak thy message, herald!HERALD.My noble general laments the bloodWhich hath already flowed, and still must flow.Hence, in the scabbard holding back the sword,Before by storm the town of Orleans falls,He offers thee an amicable treaty.CHARLES.Proceed!JOHANNA (stepping forward).Permit me, Dauphin, in thy stead,To parley with this herald.CHARLES.Do so, maid!Determine thou, for peace, or bloody war.JOHANNA (to the HERALD).Who sendeth thee? Who speaketh through thy mouth?HERALD.The Earl of Salisbury; the British chief.JOHANNA.Herald, 'tis false! The earl speaks not through thee.Only the living speak, the dead are silent.HERALD.The earl is well, and full of lusty strength;He lives to bring down ruin on your heads.JOHANNA.When thou didst quit the British army he lived.This morn, while gazing from Le Tournelle's tower,A ball from Orleans struck him to the ground.Smilest thou that I discern what is remote?Not to my words give credence; but believeThe witness of thine eyes! his funeral trainThou shalt encounter as you goest hence!Now, herald, speak, and do thine errand here.HERALD.If what is hidden thou canst thus reveal,Thou knowest mine errand ere I tell it thee.JOHANNA.It boots me not to know it. But do thouGive ear unto my words! This message bearIn answer to the lords who sent thee here.Monarch of England, and ye haughty dukes,Bedford and Gloucester, regents of this realm!To heaven's high King you are accountableFor all the blood that hath been shed. RestoreThe keys of all the cities ta'en by forceIn opposition to God's holy law!The maiden cometh from the King of HeavenAnd offers you or peace or bloody war.Choose ye! for this I say, that you may know it:To you this beauteous realm is not assignedBy Mary's son;—but God hath given itTo Charles, my lord and Dauphin, who ere longWill enter Paris with a monarch's pomp,Attended by the great ones of his realm.Now, herald, go, and speedily depart,For ere thou canst attain the British campAnd do thine errand, is the maiden there,To plant the sign of victory at Orleans.[She retires. In the midst of a general movement,the curtain falls.
Landscape, bounded by rocks.
TALBOT and LIONEL, English generals, PHILIP, DUKE OF BURGUNDY,FASTOLFE, and CHATILLON, with soldiers and banners.TALBOT.Here let us make a halt beneath these rocks,And pitch our camp, in case our scattered troops,Dispersed in panic fear, again should rally.Choose trusty sentinels, and guard the heights!'Tis true the darkness shields us from pursuit,And sure I am, unless the foe have wings,We need not fear surprisal. Still 'tis wellTo practice caution, for we have to doWith a bold foe, and have sustained defeat.[FASTOLFE goes out with the soldiers.LIONEL.Defeat! My general, do not speak that word.It stings me to the quick to think the FrenchTo-day have seen the backs of Englishmen.Oh, Orleans! Orleans! Grave of England's glory!Our honor lies upon thy fatal plainsDefeat most ignominious and burlesque!Who will in future years believe the tale!The victors of Poictiers and Agincourt,Cressy's bold heroes, routed by a woman?BURGUNDY.That must console us. Not by mortal power,But by the devil have we been o'erthrown!TALBOT.The devil of our own stupidity!How, Burgundy? Do princes quake and fearBefore the phantom which appals the vulgar?Credulity is but a sorry cloakFor cowardice. Your people first took flight.BURGUNDY.None stood their ground. The flight was general.TALBOT.'Tis false! Your wing fled first. You wildly brokeInto our camp, exclaiming: "Hell is loose,The devil combats on the side of France!"And thus you brought confusion 'mong our troops.LIONEL.You can't deny it. Your wing yielded first.BURGUNDY.Because the brunt of battle there commenced.TALBOT.The maiden knew the weakness of our camp;She rightly judged where fear was to be found.BURGUNDY.How? Shall the blame of our disaster restWith Burgundy?LIONEL.By heaven! were we alone,We English, never had we Orleans lost!BURGUNDY.No, truly! for ye ne'er had Orleans seen!Who opened you a way into this realm,And reached you forth a kind and friendly handWhen you descended on this hostile coast?Who was it crowned your Henry at Paris,And unto him subdued the people's hearts?Had this Burgundian arm not guided youInto this realm, by heaven you ne'er had seenThe smoke ascending from a single hearth!LIONEL.Were conquests with big words effected, duke,You, doubtless, would have conquered France alone.BURGUNDY.The loss of Orleans angers you, and nowYou vent your gall on me, your friend and ally.What lost us Orleans but your avarice?The city was prepared to yield to me,Your envy was the sole impediment.TALBOT.We did not undertake the siege for you.BURGUNDY.How would it stand with you if I withdrewWith all my host?LIONEL.We should not be worse offThan when, at Agincourt, we proved a matchFor you and all the banded power of France.BURGUNDY.Yet much you stood in need of our alliance;The regent purchased it at heavy cost.TALBOT.Most dearly, with the forfeit of our honor,At Orleans have we paid for it to-day.BURGUNDY.Urge me no further, lords. Ye may repent it!Did I forsake the banners of my king,Draw down upon my head the traitor's name,To be insulted thus by foreigners?Why am I here to combat against France?If I must needs endure ingratitude,Let it come rather from my native king!TALBOT.You're in communication with the Dauphin,We know it well, but we soon shall find meansTo guard ourselves 'gainst treason.BURGUNDY.Death and hell!Am I encountered thus? Chatillon, hark!Let all my troops prepare to quit the camp.We will retire into our own domain.[CHATILLON goes out.LIONEL.God speed you there! Never did Britain's fameMore brightly shine than when she stood alone,Confiding solely in her own good sword.Let each one fight his battle for himself,For 'tis eternal truth that English bloodCannot, with honor, blend with blood of France.
The same. QUEEN ISABEL, attended by a PAGE.ISABEL.What must I hear? This fatal strife forbear!What brain-bewildering planet o'er your mindsSheds dire perplexity? When unityAlone can save you, will you part in hate,And, warring 'mong yourselves, prepare your doom?—I do entreat you, noble duke, recallYour hasty order. You, renowned Talbot,Seek to appease an irritated friend!Come, Lionel, aid me to reconcileThese haughty spirits and establish peace.LIONEL.Not I, madame. It is all one to me.'Tis my belief, when things are misallied,The sooner they part company the better.ISABEL.How? Do the arts of hell, which on the fieldWrought such disastrous ruin, even hereBewilder and befool us? Who beganThis fatal quarrel? Speak! Lord-general!Your own advantage did you so forget,As to offend your worthy friend and ally?What could you do without his powerful arm?'Twas he who placed your monarch on the throne,He holds him there, and he can hurl him thence;His army strengthens you—still more his name.Were England all her citizens to pourUpon our coasts, she never o'er this realmWould gain dominion did she stand alone;No! France can only be subdued by France!TALBOT.A faithful friend we honor as we ought;Discretion warns us to beware the false.BURGUNDY.The liar's brazen front beseemeth himWho would absolve himself from gratitude.ISABEL.How, noble duke? Could you so far renounceYour princely honor, and your sense of shame,As clasp the hand of him who slew your sire?Are you so mad to entertain the thoughtOf cordial reconcilement with the Dauphin,Whom you yourself have hurled to ruin's brink?His overthrow you have well nigh achieved,And madly now would you renounce your work?Here stand your allies. Your salvation liesIn an indissoluble bond with England?BURGUNDY.Far is my thought from treaty with the Dauphin;But the contempt and insolent demeanorOf haughty England I will not endure.ISABEL.Come, noble duke? Excuse a hasty word.Heavy the grief which bows the general down,And well you know misfortune makes unjust.Come! come! embrace; let me this fatal breachRepair at once, ere it becomes eternal.TALBOT.What think you, Burgundy? A noble heart,By reason vanquished, doth confess its fault.A wise and prudent word the queen hath spoken;Come, let my hand with friendly pressure healThe wound inflicted by my angry tongue.BURGUNDY.Discreet the counsel offered by the queen!My just wrath yieldeth to necessity.ISABEL.'Tis well! Now, with a brotherly embraceConfirm and seal the new-established bond;And may the winds disperse what hath been spoken.[BURGUNDY and TALBOT embrace.LIONEL (contemplating the group aside).Hail to an union by the furies planned!ISABEL.Fate hath proved adverse, we have lost a battle,But do not, therefore, let your courage sink.The Dauphin, in despair of heavenly aid,Doth make alliance with the powers of hell;Vainly his soul he forfeits to the devil,For hell itself cannot deliver him.A conquering maiden leads the hostile force;Yours, I myself will lead; to you I'll standIn place of maiden or of prophetess.LIONEL.Madame, return to Paris! We desireTo war with trusty weapons, not with women.TALBOT.GO! go! Since your arrival in the camp,Fortune hath fled our banners, and our courseHath still been retrograde. Depart at once!BURGUNDY.Your presence here doth scandalize the host.ISABEL (looks from one to the other with astonishment).This, Burgundy, from you? Do you take partAgainst me with these thankless English lords?BURGUNDY.Go! go! The thought of combating for youUnnerves the courage of the bravest men.ISABEL.I scarce among you have established peace,And you already form a league against me!TALBOT.Go, in God's name. When you have left the campNo devil will again appal our troops.ISABEL.Say, am I not your true confederate?Are we not banded in a common cause?TALBOT.Thank God! your cause of quarrel is not ours.We combat in an honorable strife.BURGUNDY.A father's bloody murder I avenge.Stern filial duty consecrates my arms.TALBOT.Confess at once. Your conduct towards the DauphinIs an offence alike to God and man.ISABEL.Curses blast him and his posterity!The shameless son who sins against his mother!BURGUNDY.Ay! to avenge a husband and a father!ISABEL.To judge his mother's conduct he presumed!LIONEL.That was, indeed, irreverent in a son!ISABEL.And me, forsooth, he banished from the realm.TALBOT.Urged to the measure by the public voice.ISABEL.A curse light on him if I e'er forgive him!Rather than see him on his father's throne——TALBOT.His mother's honor you would sacrifice!ISABEL.Your feeble natures cannot comprehendThe vengeance of an outraged mother's heart.Who pleasures me, I love; who wrongs, I hate.If he who wrongs me chance to be my son,All the more worthy is he of my hate.The life I gave I will again take backFrom him who doth, with ruthless violence,The bosom rend which bore and nourished him.Ye, who do thus make war upon the Dauphin,What rightful cause have ye to plunder him?What crime hath he committed against you?What insult are you called on to avenge?Ambition, paltry envy, goad you on;I have a right to hate him—he's my son.TALBOT.He feels his mother in her dire revenge!ISABEL.Mean hypocrites! I hate you and despise.Together with the world, you cheat yourselves!With robber-hands you English seek to clutchThis realm of France, where you have no just right,Nor equitable claim, to so much earthAs could be covered by your charger's hoof.—This duke, too, whom the people style the Good,Doth to a foreign lord, his country's foe,For gold betray the birthland of his sires.And yet is justice ever on your tongue.—Hypocrisy I scorn. Such as I am,So let the world behold me!BURGUNDY.It is true!Your reputation you have well maintained.ISABEL.I've passions and warm blood, and as a queenCame to this realm to live, and not to seem.Should I have lingered out a joyless lifeBecause the curse of adverse destinyTo a mad consort joined my blooming youth?More than my life I prize my liberty.And who assails me here——But why should IStoop to dispute with you about my rights?Your sluggish blood flows slowly in your veins!Strangers to pleasure, ye know only rage!This duke, too—who, throughout his whole career,Hath wavered to and fro, 'twixt good and ill—Can neither love or hate with his whole heart.—I go to Melun. Let this gentleman,[Pointing to LIONEL.Who doth my fancy please, attend me there,To cheer my solitude, and you may workYour own good pleasure! I'll inquire no moreConcerning the Burgundians or the English.[She beckons to her PAGE, and is about to retire.LIONEL.Rely upon us, we will send to MelunThe fairest youths whom we in battle take.[Coming back.ISABEL.Skilful your arm to wield the sword of death,The French alone can round the polished phrase.[She goes out.