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.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 noble bearing, 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.
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.
TALBOT.Heavens! What a woman!
LIONEL.Now, brave generals,Your counsel! Shall we prosecute our flight,Or turn, and with a bold and sudden strokeWipe out the foul dishonor of to-day?
BURGUNDY.We are too weak, our soldiers are dispersed,The recent terror still unnerves the host.
TALBOT.Blind terror, sudden impulse of a moment,Alone occasioned our disastrous rout.This phantom of the terror-stricken brain,More closely viewed will vanish into air.My counsel, therefore, is, at break of day,To lead the army back, across the stream,To meet the enemy.
BURGUNDY.Consider well——
LIONEL.Your pardon! Here is nothing to considerWhat we have lost we must at once retrieve,Or look to be eternally disgraced.
TALBOT.It is resolved. To-morrow morn we fight,This dread-inspiring phantom to destroy,Which thus doth blind and terrify the hostLet us in fight encounter this she-devil.If she oppose her person to our sword,Trust me, she never will molest us more;If she avoid our stroke—and be assuredShe will not stand the hazard of a battle—Then is the dire enchantment at an end?
LIONEL.So be it! And to me, my general. leaveThis easy, bloodless combat, for I hopeAlive to take this ghost, and in my arms,Before the Bastard's eyes—her paramour—To bear her over to the English camp,To be the sport and mockery of the host.
BURGUNDY.Make not too sure.
TALBOT.If she encounter me,I shall not give her such a soft embrace.Come now, exhausted nature to restoreThrough gentle sleep. At daybreak we set forth.
[They go out.
JOHANNA with her banner, in a helmet and breastplate, otherwise attired as a woman. DUNOIS, LA HIRE, knights and soldiers appear above upon the rocky path, pass silently over, and appear immediately after on the scene.
JOHANNA (to the knights who surround her while theprocession continues above).The wall is scaled and we are in the camp!Now fling aside the mantle of still night,Which hitherto hath veiled your silent march,And your dread presence to the foe proclaim.By your loud battle-cry—God and the maiden!
ALL (exclaim aloud, amidst the loud clang of arms).God and the maiden![Drums and trumpets.
SENTINELS (behind the scene).The foe! The foe! The foe!
JOHANNA.Ho! torches here. Hurl fire into the tents!Let the devouring flames augment the horror,While threatening death doth compass them around!
[Soldiers hasten on, she is about to follow.
DUNOIS (holding her back).Thy part thou hast accomplished now, Johanna!Into the camp thou hast conducted us,The foe thou hast delivered in our hands,Now from the rush of war remain apart!The bloody consummation leave to us.
LA HIRE.Point out the path of conquest to the host;Before us, in pure hand, the banner bear.But wield the fatal weapon not thyself;Tempt not the treacherous god of battle, forHe rageth blindly, and he spareth not.
JOHANNA.Who dares impede my progress? Who presumeThe spirit to control which guideth me?Still must the arrow wing its destined flight!Where danger is, there must Johanna be;Nor now, nor here, am I foredoomed to fall;Our monarch's royal brow I first must seeInvested with the round of sovereignty.No hostile power can rob me of my life,Till I've accomplished the commands of God.
[She goes out.
LA HIRE.Come, let us follow after her, Dunois,And let our valiant bosoms be her shield!
[Exit.
ENGLISH SOLDIERS hurry over the stage.Afterwards TALBOT.
1 SOLDIER. The maiden in the camp!
2 SOLDIER. Impossible! It cannot be! How came she in the camp?
3 SOLDIER. Why, through the air! The devil aided her!
4 AND 5 SOLDIERS. Fly! fly! We are dead men!
TALBOT (enters).They heed me not! They stay not at my call!The sacred bands of discipline are loosed!As hell had poured her damned legions forth,A wild, distracting impulse whirls along,In one mad throng, the cowardly and brave.I cannot rally e'en the smallest troopTo form a bulwark gainst the hostile flood,Whose raging billows press into our camp!Do I alone retain my sober senses,While all around in wild delirium rave?To fly before these weak, degenerate FrenchmenWhom we in twenty battles have overthrown?Who is she then—the irresistible—The dread-inspiring goddess, who doth turnAt once the tide of battle, and transformThe lions bold a herd of timid deer?A juggling minx, who plays the well-learned partOf heroine, thus to appal the brave?A woman snatch from me all martial fame?
SOLDIER (rushing in).The maiden comes! Fly, general, fly! fly!
TALBOT (strikes him down).Fly thou, thyself, to hell! This sword shall pierceWho talks to me of fear, or coward flight!
[He goes out.
The prospect opens. The English camp is seen in flames.Drums, flight, and pursuit. After a while MONTGOMERY enters.
MONTGOMERY (alone).Where shall I flee? Foes all around and death! Lo! hereThe furious general, who with threatening sword, preventsEscape, and drives us back into the jaws of death.The dreadful maiden there—the terrible—who likeDevouring flame, destruction spreads; while all aroundAppears no bush wherein to hide—no sheltering cave!Oh, would that o'er the sea I never had come here!Me miserable—empty dreams deluded me—Cheap glory to achieve on Gallia's martial fields.And I am guided by malignant destinyInto this murderous flight. Oh, were I far, far hence.Still in my peaceful home, on Severn's flowery banks,Where in my father's house, in sorrow and in tears,I left my mother and my fair young bride.
[JOHANNA appears in the distance.
Wo's me! What do I see! The dreadful form appears!Arrayed in lurid light, she from the raging fireIssues, as from the jaws of hell, a midnight ghost.Where shall I go? where flee? Already from afarShe seizes on me with her eye of fire, and flingsHer fatal and unerring coil, whose magic foldsWith ever-tightening pressure, bind my feet and makeEscape impossible! Howe'er my heart rebels,I am compelled to follow with my gaze that formOf dread!
[JOHANNA advances towards him some steps;and again remains standing.
She comes! I will not passively awaitHer furious onset! Imploringly I'll claspHer knees! I'll sue to her for life. She is a woman.I may perchance to pity move her by my tears!
[While he is on the point of approaching her she draws near.
JOHANNA.Prepare to die! A British mother bore thee!
MONTGOMERY (falls at her feet).Fall back, terrific one! Forbear to strikeAn unprotected foe! My sword and shieldI've flung aside, and supplicating fallDefenceless at thy feet. A ransom take!Extinguish not the precious light of life!With fair possessions crowned, my father dwellsIn Wales' fair land, where among verdant meadsThe winding Severn rolls his silver tide,And fifty villages confess his sway.With heavy gold he will redeem his son,When he shall hear I'm in the camp of France.
JHANNA.Deluded mortal! to destruction doomed!Thou'rt fallen in the maiden's hand, from whichRedemption or deliverance there is none.Had adverse fortune given thee a preyTo the fierce tiger or the crocodile—Hadst robbed the lion mother of her brood—Compassion thou might'st hope to find and pity;But to encounter me is certain death.For my dread compact with the spirit realm—The stern inviolable—bindeth me,To slay each living thing whom battle's God,Full charged with doom, delivers to my sword.
MONTGOMERY.Thy speech is fearful, but thy look is mild;Not dreadful art thou to contemplate near;My heart is drawn towards thy lovely form.Oh! by the mildness of thy gentle sex,Attend my prayer. Compassionate my youth.
JOHANNA.Name me not woman! Speak not of my sex!Like to the bodiless spirits, who know naughtOf earth's humanities, I own no sex;Beneath this vest of steel there beats no heart.
MONTGOMERY.Oh! by love's sacred, all-pervading power,To whom all hearts yield homage, I conjure thee.At home I left behind a gentle bride,Beauteous as thou, and rich in blooming grace:Weeping she waiteth her betrothed's return.Oh! if thyself dost ever hope to love,If in thy love thou hopest to be happy,Then ruthless sever not two gentle hearts,Together linked in love's most holy bond!
JOHANNA.Thou dost appeal to earthly, unknown gods,To whom I yield no homage. Of love's bond,By which thou dost conjure me, I know naughtNor ever will I know his empty service.Defend thy life, for death doth summon thee.
MONTGOMERY.Take pity on my sorrowing parents, whomI left at home. Doubtless thou, too, hast leftParents, who feel disquietude for thee.
JOHANNA.Unhappy man! thou dost remember meHow many mothers of this land your armsHave rendered childless and disconsolate;How many gentle children fatherless;How many fair young brides dejected widows!Let England's mothers now be taught despair,And learn to weep the bitter tear oft shedBy the bereaved and sorrowing wives of France.
MONTGOMERY.'Tis hard in foreign lands to die unwept.
JOHANNA.Who called you over to this foreign land,To waste the blooming culture of our fields,To chase the peasant from his household hearth,And in our cities' peaceful sanctuaryTo hurl the direful thunderbolt of war?In the delusion of your hearts ye thoughtTo plunge in servitude the freeborn French,And to attach their fair and goodly realm,Like a small boat, to your proud English bark!Ye fools! The royal arms of France are hungFast by the throne of God; and ye as soonFrom the bright wain of heaven might snatch a starAs rend a single village from this realm,Which shall remain inviolate forever!The day of vengeance is at length arrived;Not living shall ye measure back the sea,The sacred sea—the boundary set by GodBetwixt our hostile nations—and the whichYe ventured impiously to overpass.
MONTGOMERY (lets go her hands).Oh, I must die! I feel the grasp of death!
JOHANNA.Die, friend! Why tremble at the approach of death?Of mortals the irrevocable doom?Look upon me! I'm born a shepherd maid;This hand, accustomed to the peaceful crook,Is all unused to wield the sword of death.Yet, snatched away from childhood's peaceful haunts,From the fond love of father and of sisters,Urged by no idle dream of earthly glory,But heaven-appointed to achieve your ruin,Like a destroying angel I must roam,Spreading dire havoc around me, and at lengthMyself must fall a sacrifice to death!Never again shall I behold my home!Still, many of your people I must slay,Still, many widows make, but I at lengthMyself shall perish, and fulfil my doom.Now thine fulfil. Arise! resume thy sword,And let us fight for the sweet prize of life.
MONTGOMERY (stands up).Now, if thou art a mortal like myself,Can weapons wound thee, it may be assignedTo this good arm to end my country's woe,Thee sending, sorceress, to the depths of hell.In God's most gracious hands I leave my fate.Accursed one! to thine assistance callThe fiends of hell! Now combat for thy life!
[He seizes his sword and shield, and rushes upon her; martial music is heard in the distance. After a short conflict MONTGOMERY falls.
JOHANNA (alone).To death thy foot did bear thee—fare thee well!
[She steps away from him and remains absorbed in thought.
Virgin, thou workest mightily in me!My feeble arm thou dost endue with strength,And steep'st my woman's heart in cruelty.In pity melts the soul and the hand trembles,As it did violate some sacred fane,To mar the goodly person of the foe.Once I did shudder at the polished sheath,But when 'tis needed, I'm possessed with strength,And as it were itself a thing of life,The fatal weapon, in my trembling grasp,Self-swayed, inflicteth the unerring stroke.
A KNIGHT with closed visor, JOHANNA.
KNIGHT.Accursed one! thy hour of death has come!Long have I sought thee on the battle-field,Fatal delusion! get thee back to hell,Whence thou didst issue forth.
JOHANNA.Say, who art thou,Whom his bad genius sendeth in my way?Princely thy port, no Briton dost thou seem,For the Burgundian colors stripe thy shield,Before the which my sword inclines its point.
KNIGHT.Vile castaway! Thou all unworthy artTo fall beneath a prince's noble hand.The hangman's axe should thy accursed headCleave from thy trunk, unfit for such vile useThe royal Duke of Burgundy's brave sword.
JOHANNA.Art thou indeed that noble duke himself?
KNIGHT (raises his visor).I'm he, vile creature, tremble and despair!The arts of hell shall not protect thee more.Thou hast till now weak dastards overcome;Now thou dost meet a man.
DUNOIS and LA HIRE. The same.
DUNOIS.Hold, Burgundy!Turn! combat now with men, and not with maids.
LA HIRE.We will defend the holy prophetess;First must thy weapon penetrate this breast.
BURGUNDY.I fear not this seducing Circe; no,Nor you, whom she hath changed so shamefully!Oh, blush, Dunois! and do thou blush, La HireTo stoop thy valor to these hellish arts—To be shield-bearer to a sorceress!Come one—come all! He only who despairsOf heaven's protection seeks the aid of hell.
[They prepare for combat, JOHANNA steps between.
JOHANNA.Forbear!
BURGUNDY.Dost tremble for thy lover? ThusBefore thine eyes he shall——
[He makes a thrust at DUNOIS.
JOHANNA.Dunois, forbear!Part them, La Hire! no blood of France must flow:Not hostile weapons must this strife decide,Above the stars 'tis otherwise decreed.Fall back! I say. Attend and venerateThe Spirit which hath seized, which speaks through me!
DUNOIS.Why, maiden, now hold back my upraised arm?Why check the just decision of the sword?My weapon pants to deal the fatal blowWhich shall avenge and heal the woes of France.
[She places herself in the midst and separates the parties.
JOHANNA.Fall back, Dunois! Stand where thou art, La Hire!Somewhat I have to say to Burgundy.
[When all is quiet.
What wouldst thou, Burgundy? Who is the foeWhom eagerly thy murderous glances seek?This prince is, like thyself, a son of France,—This hero is thy countryman, thy friend;I am a daughter of thy fatherland.We all, whom thou art eager to destroy,Are of thy friends;—our longing arms prepareTo clasp, our bending knees to honor thee.Our sword 'gainst thee is pointless, and that faceE'en in a hostile helm is dear to us,For there we trace the features of our king.
BURGUNDY.What, syren! wilt thou with seducing wordsAllure thy victim? Cunning sorceress,Me thou deludest not. Mine ears are closedAgainst thy treacherous words; and vainly dartThy fiery glances 'gainst this mail of proof.To arms, Dunois!With weapons let us fight, and not with words.
DUNOIS.First words, then weapons, Burgundy! Do wordsWith dread inspire thee? 'Tis a coward's fear,And the betrayer of an evil cause.
JOHANNA.'Tis not imperious necessityWhich throws us at thy feet! We do not comeAs suppliants before thee. Look around!The English tents are level with the ground,And all the field is covered with your slain.Hark! the war-trumpets of the French resound;God hath decided—ours the victory!Our new-culled laurel garland with our friendWe fain would share. Come, noble fugitive!Oh, come where justice and where victory dwell!Even I, the messenger of heaven, extendA sister's hand to thee. I fain would saveAnd draw thee over to our righteous cause!Heaven hath declared for France! Angelic powers,Unseen by thee, do battle for our king;With lilies are the holy ones adorned,Pure as this radiant banner is our cause;Its blessed symbol is the queen of heaven.
BURGUNDY.Falsehood's fallacious words are full of guile,But hers are pure and simple as a child's.If evil spirits borrow this disguise,They copy innocence triumphantly.I'll hear no more. To arms, Dunois! to arms!Mine ear, I feel, is weaker than mine arm.
JOHANNA.You call me an enchantress, and accuseOf hellish arts. Is it the work of hellTo heal dissension and to foster peace?Comes holy concord from the depths below?Say, what is holy, innocent, and good,If not to combat for our fatherland?Since when hath nature been so self-opposedThat heaven forsakes the just and righteous cause,While hell protects it? If my words are true,Whence could I draw them but from heaven above?Who ever sought me in my shepherd-walks,To teach the humble maid affairs of state?I ne'er have stood with princes, to these lipsUnknown the arts of eloquence. Yet now,When I have need of it to touch thy heart,Insight and varied knowledge I possess;The fate of empires and the doom of kingsLie clearly spread before my childish mind,And words of thunder issue from my mouth.
BURGUNDY (greatly moved, looks at her with emotion and astonishment).How is it with me? Doth some heavenly powerThus strangely stir my spirit's inmost depths?This pure, this gentle creature cannot lie!No, if enchantment blinds me, 'tis from heaven.My spirit tells me she is sent from God.
JOHANNA.Oh, he is moved! I have not prayed in vain,Wrath's thunder-cloud dissolves in gentle tears,And leaves his brow, while mercy's golden beamsBreak from his eyes and gently promise peace.Away with arms, now clasp him to your hearts,He weeps—he's conquered, he is ours once more!
[Her sword and banner fall; she hastens to him with outstretched arms, and embraces him in great agitation. LA HIRE and DUNOIS throw down their swords, and hasten also to embrace him.