The Maid of Orleans (play) Read online

Thou hast beheld the glories of the skies;

  No earthly interest moveth thy pure breast.

  [JOHANNA seizes her hand passionately, but soon lets it fall again.

  Oh, couldst thou own a woman's feeling heart!

  Put off this armor, war is over now,

  Confess thy union with the softer sex!

  My loving heart shrinks timidly from thee,

  While thus thou wearest Pallas' brow severe.

  JOHANNA.

  What wouldst thou have me do?

  SOREL.

  Unarm thyself!

  Put off this coat of mail! The God of Love

  Fears to approach a bosom clad in steel.

  Oh, be a woman, thou wilt feel his power!

  JOHANNA.

  What, now unarm myself? Midst battle's roar

  I'll bare my bosom to the stroke of death!

  Not now! Would that a sevenfold wall of brass

  Could hide me from your revels, from myself!

  SOREL.

  Thou'rt loved by Count Dunois. His noble heart,

  Which virtue and renown alone inspire,

  With pure and holy passion glows for thee.

  Oh, it is sweet to know oneself beloved

  By such a hero-sweeter still to love him!

  [JOHANNA turns away with aversion.

  Thou hatest him?-No, no, thou only canst

  Not love him:-how could hatred stir thy breast!

  Those who would tear us from the one we love,

  We hate alone; but none can claim thy love.

  Thy heart is tranquil-if it could but feel--

  JOHANNA.

  Oh, pity me! Lament my hapless fate!

  SOREL.

  What can be wanting to complete thy joy?

  Thou hast fulfilled thy promise, France is free,

  To Rheims, in triumph, thou hast led the king,

  Thy mighty deeds have gained thee high renown,

  A happy people praise and worship thee;

  Thy name, the honored theme of every tongue;

  Thou art the goddess of this festival;

  The monarch, with his crown and regal state,

  Shines not with greater majesty than thou!

  JOHANNA.

  Oh, could I hide me in the depths of earth!

  SOREL.

  Why this emotion? Whence this strange distress?

  Who may to-day look up without a fear

  If thou dost cast thine eyes upon the ground!

  It is for me to blush, me, who near thee

  Feel all my littleness; I cannot reach

  The lofty virtue, thy heroic strength!

  For-all my weakness shall I own to thee?

  Not the renown of France, my Fatherland,

  Not the new splendor of the monarch's crow,

  Not the triumphant gladness of the crowds,

  Engage this woman's heart. One only form

  Is in its depths enshrined; it hath no room

  For any feeling save for one alone:

  He is the idol, him the people bless,

  Him they extol, for him they strew these flowers,

  And he is mine, he is my own true love!

  JOHANNA.

  Oh, thou art happy! thou art blessed indeed!

  Thou lovest, where all love. Thou may'st, unblamed

  Pour forth thy rapture, and thine inmost heart,

  Fearless discover to the gaze of man!

  Thy country's triumph is thy lover's too.

  The vast, innumerable multitudes,

  Who, rolling onward, crowd within these walls,

  Participate thy joy, they hallow it;

  Thee they salute, for thee they twine the wreath,

  Thou art a portion of the general joy;

  Thou lovest the all-inspiring soul, the sun,

  And what thou seest is thy lover's glory!

  SOREL (falling on her neck).

  Thou dost delight me, thou canst read my heart!

  I did thee wrong, thou knowest what love is,

  Thou tell'st my feelings with a voice of power.

  My heart forgets its fear and its reserve,

  And seeks confidingly to blend with thine--

  JOHANNA (tearing herself from her with violence).

  Forsake me! Turn away! Do not pollute

  Thyself by longer intercourse with me!

  Be happy! go-and in the deepest night

  Leave me to hide my infamy, my woe!

  SOREL.

  Thou frighten'st me, I understand thee not,

  I ne'er have understood thee-for from me

  Thy dark mysterious being still was veiled.

  Who may divine what thus disturbs thy heart,

  Thus terrifies thy pure and sacred soul!

  JOHANNA.

  Thou art the pure, the holy one! Couldst thou

  Behold mine inmost heart, thou, shuddering,

  Wouldst fly the traitoress, the enemy!

  SCENE III.

  DUNOIS, DUCHATEL, and LA HIRE, with the banner of JOHANNA.

  DUNOIS.

  Johanna, thee we seek. All is prepared;

  The king hath sent us, 'tis his royal will

  That thou before him shouldst thy banner bear,

  The company of princes thou shalt join;

  And march immediately before the king:

  For he doth not deny it, and the world

  Shall witness, maiden, that to thee alone

  He doth ascribe the honor of this day.

  LA HIRE.

  Here is the banner. Take it, noble maiden

  Thou'rt stayed for by the princes and the people.

  JOHANNA.

  I march before him? I the banner bear?

  DUNOIS.

  Whom else would it become? What other hand

  Is pure enough to bear the sacred ensign!

  Amid the battle thou hast waved it oft;

  To grace our glad procession bear it now.

  [LA HIRE presents the banner to her, she draws back, shuddering.

  JOHANNA.

  Away! away!

  LA HIRE.

  Art thou terrified

  At thine own banner, maiden? Look at it!

  [He displays the banner.

  It is the same thou didst in conquest wave.

  Imaged upon it is the queen of heaven,

  Floating in glory o'er this earthly ball;

  For so the Holy Mother showed it thee.

  [JOHANNA gazing upon it with horror.

  'Tis she herself! so she appeared to me.

  See, how she looks at me and knits her brow,

  And anger flashes from her threatening eye!

  SOREL.

  Alas, she raveth! Maiden, be composed!

  Collect thyself! Thou seest nothing real!

  That is her pictured image; she herself

  Wanders above, amid the angelic choir!

  JOHANNA.

  Thou comest, fearful one, to punish me?

  Destroy, o'erwhelm, thy lightnings hurl,

  And let them fall upon my guilty head.

  Alas, my vow I've broken. I've profaned

  And desecrated thy most holy name!

  DUNOIS.

  Woe's us! What may this mean? What unblest words?

  LA HIRE (in astonishment, to DUCHATEL).

  This strange emotion canst thou comprehend?

  DUCHATEL.

  That which I see, I see-I long have feared it.

  DUNOIS.

  What sayest thou?

  DUCHATEL.

  I dare not speak my thoughts.

  I would to heaven that the king were crowned!

  LA HIRE.

  How! hath the awe this banner doth inspire

  Turned back upon thyself? before this sign

  Let Britons tremble; to the foes of France

  'Tis fearful, but to all true citizens

  It is auspicious.

  JOHANNA.

  Yes, thou sayest truly!

  To friends
'tis gracious! but to enemies

  It causeth horror!

  [The Coronation march is heard.

  DUNOIS.

  Take thy banner, then!

  The march begins-no time is to be lost!

  [They press the banner upon her; she seizes it with

  evident emotion, and retires; the others follow.

  [The scene changes to an open place before the Cathedral.

  SCENE IV.

  Spectators occupy the background; BERTRAND, CLAUDE MARIE, and

  ETIENNE come forward; then MARGOT and LOUISON. The Coronation

  march is heard in the distance.

  BERTRAND.

  Hark to the music! They approach already!

  What had we better do? Shall we mount up

  Upon the platform, or press through the crowd,

  That we may nothing lose of the procession?

  ETIENNE.

  It is not to be thought of. All the streets

  Are thronged with horsemen and with carriages.

  Beside these houses let us take our stand,

  Here we without annoyance may behold

  The train as it goes by.

  CLAUDE MARIE.

  Almost it seems

  As were the half of France assembled here,

  So mighty is the flood that it hath reached

  Even our distant Lotharingian land

  And borne us thither!

  BERTRAND.

  Who would sit at home

  When great events are stirring in the land!

  It hath cost plenty, both of sweat and blood,

  Ere the crown rested on its rightful head!

  Nor shall our lawful king, to whom we give

  The crown, be worse accompanied than he

  Whom the Parisians in St. Denis crowned!

  He is no loyal, honest-minded man

  Who doth absent him from this festival,

  And joins not in the cry: "God save the King!"

  SCENE V.

  MARGOT and LOUISON join them.

  LOUISON.

  We shall again behold our sister, Margot!

  How my heart beats!

  MARGOT.

  In majesty and pomp

  We shall behold her, saying to ourselves:

  It is our sister, it is our Johanna!

  LOUISON.

  Till I have seen her, I can scarce believe

  That she, whom men the Maid of Orleans name,

  The mighty warrior, is indeed Johanna,

  Our sister whom we lost!

  [The music draws nearer.

  MARGOT.

  Thou doubtest still!

  Thou wilt thyself behold her!

  BERTRAND.

  See, they come!

  SCENE VI.

  Musicians, with flutes and hautboys, open the procession. Children

  follow, dressed in white, with branches in their hands; behind them

  two heralds. Then a procession of halberdiers, followed by

  magistrates in their robes. Then two marshals with their staves;

  the DUKE of BURGUNDY, bearing the sword; DUNOIS with the sceptre,

  other nobles with the regalia; others with sacrificial offerings.

  Behind these, KNIGHTS with the ornaments of their order; choristers

  with incense; two BISHOPS with the ampulla; the ARCHBISHOP with the

  crucifix. JOHANNA follows, with her banner, she walks with downcast

  head and wavering steps; her sisters, on beholding her, express

  their astonishment and joy. Behind her comes the KING under a

  canopy, supported by four barons; courtiers follow, soldiers

  conclude the procession; as soon as it has entered the church the

  music ceases.

  SCENE VII.

  LOUISON, MARGOT, CLAUDE MARIE, ETIENNE, BERTRAND.

  MARGOT.

  Saw you our sister?

  CLAUDE MARIE.

  She in golden armor,

  Who with the banner walked before the king?

  MARGOT.

  It was Johanna. It was she, our sister!

  LOUISON.

  She recognized us not! She did not feel

  That we, her sisters, were so near to her.

  She looked upon the ground, and seemed so pale,

  And trembled so beneath her banner's weight

  When I beheld her, I could not rejoice.

  MARGOT.

  So now, arrayed in splendor and in pomp,

  I have beheld our sister-who in dreams

  Would ever have imagined or conceived,

  When on our native hills she drove the flock,

  That we should see her in such majesty?

  LOUISON.

  Our father's dream is realized, that we

  In Rheims before our sister should bow down.

  That is the church, which in his dream he saw

  And each particular is now fulfilled.

  But images of woe he also saw!

  Alas! I'm grieved to see her raised so high!

  BERTRAND.

  Why stand we idly here? Let's to the church

  To view the coronation!

  MARGOT.

  Yes! perchance

  We there may meet our sister; let us go!

  LOUISON.

  We have beheld her. Let us now return

  Back to our village.

  MARGOT.

  How? Ere we with her

  Have interchanged a word?

  LOUISON.

  She doth belong

  To us no longer; she with princes stands

  And monarchs. Who are we, that we should seek

  With foolish vanity to near her state?

  She was a stranger while she dwelt with us!

  MARGOT.

  Will she despise, and treat us with contempt?

  BERTRAND.

  The king himself is not ashamed of us,

  He kindly greets the meanest of the crowd.

  How high soever she may be exalted,

  The king is raised still higher!

  [Trumpets and kettle-drums are heard from the church.

  CLAUDE MARIE.

  Let's to the church!

  [They hasten to the background, where they are lost among the crowd.

  SCENE VIII.

  THIBAUT enters, clad in black. RAIMOND follows him, and tries

  to hold him back.

  RAIMOND.

  Stay, father Thibaut! Do not join the crowds!

  Here, at this joyous festival you meet

  None but the happy, whom your grief offends.

  Come! Let us quit the town with hasty steps.

  THIBAUT.

  Hast thou beheld my child? My wretched child?

  Didst thou observe her?

  RAIMMOND.

  I entreat you, fly!

  THIBAUT.

  Didst mark her tottering and uncertain steps,

  Her countenance, so pallid and disturbed?

  She feels her dreadful state; the hour is come

  To save my child, and I will not neglect it.

  [He is about to retire.

  RAIMOND.

  What would you do?

  THIBAUT.

  Surprise her, hurl her down

  From her vain happiness, and forcibly

  Restore her to the God whom she denies.

  RAIMOND.

  Oh, do not work the ruin of your child!

  THIBAUT.

  If her soul lives, her mortal part may die.

  [JOHANNA rushes out of the church, without her banner.

  The people press around her, worship her, and kiss her

  garments. She is detained in the background by the crowd.

  She comes! 'tis she! She rushes from the church.

  Her troubled conscience drives her from the fane!

  'Tis visibly the judgment of her God!

  RAIMOND.

  Farewell! Require not my attendance further!

  Hopeful I came, an
d sorrowful depart.

  Your daughter once again I have beheld,

  And feel again that she is lost to me!

  [He goes out. THIBAUT retires on the opposite side.

  SCENE IX.

  JOHANNA, People. Afterwards her Sisters.

  JOHANNA (she has freed herself from the crowd and comes forward).

  Remain I cannot-spirits chase me forth!

  The organ's pealing tones like thunder sound,

  The dome's arched roof threatens to overwhelm me!