The Maid of Orleans (play) Read online

  All that is greatest, highest of this earth!

  For thrones on thrones, ascending to the stars,

  Would fail to reach the height where she abides

  In angel majesty!

  LA HIRE.

  Our monarch must decide.

  DUNOIS.

  Not so! she must

  Decide! Free hath she made this realm of France,

  And she herself must freely give her heart.

  LA HIRE.

  Here comes the king!

  SCENE II.

  CHARLES, AGNES, SOREL, DUCHATEL, and CHATILLON.

  The same.

  CHARLES (to CHATILLON).

  He comes! My title he will recognize,

  And do me homage as his sovereign liege?

  CHATILLON.

  Here, in his royal town of Chalons, sire,

  The duke, my master, will fall down before thee.

  He did command me, as my lord and king,

  To give thee greeting. He'll be here anon.

  SOREL.

  He comes! Hail beauteous and auspicious day,

  Which bringeth joy, and peace, and reconcilement!

  CHATILLON.

  The duke, attended by two hundred knights,

  Will hither come; he at thy feet will kneel;

  But he expecteth not that thou to him

  Should yield the cordial greeting of a kinsman.

  CHARLES.

  I long to clasp him to my throbbing heart.

  CHATILLON.

  The duke entreats that at this interview,

  No word be spoken of the ancient strife!

  CHARLES.

  In Lethe be the past forever sunk!

  The smiling future now invites our gaze.

  CHATILLON.

  All who have combated for Burgundy

  Shall be included in the amnesty.

  CHARLES.

  So shall my realm be doubled in extent!

  CHATILLON.

  Queen Isabel, if she consent thereto,

  Shall also be included in the peace.

  CHARLES.

  She maketh war on me, not I on her.

  With her alone it rests to end our quarrel.

  CHATILLON.

  Twelve knights shall answer for thy royal word.

  CHARLES.

  My word is sacred.

  CHATILLON.

  The archbishop shall

  Between you break the consecrated host,

  As pledge and seal of cordial reconcilement.

  CHARLES.

  Let my eternal weal be forfeited,

  If my hand's friendly grasp belie my heart.

  What other surety doth the duke require?

  CHATILLON (glancing at DUCHATEL).

  I see one standing here, whose presence, sire,

  Perchance might poison the first interview.

  [DUCHATEL retires in silence.

  CHARLES.

  Depart, Duchatel, and remain concealed

  Until the duke can bear thee in his sight.

  [He follows him with his eye, then hastens after

  and embraces him.

  True-hearted friend! Thou wouldst far more than this

  Have done for my repose!

  [Exit DUCHATEL.

  CHATILLON.

  This instrument doth name the other points.

  CHARLES (to the ARCHBISHOP).

  Let it be settled. We agree to all.

  We count no price too high to gain a friend.

  Go now, Dunois, and with a hundred knights,

  Give courteous conduct to the noble duke.

  Let the troops, garlanded with verdant boughs,

  Receive their comrades with a joyous welcome.

  Be the whole town arrayed in festive pomp,

  And let the bells with joyous peal, proclaim

  That France and Burgundy are reconciled.

  [A PAGE enters. Trumpets sound.

  Hark! What importeth that loud trumpet's call?

  PAGE.

  The Duke of Burgundy hath stayed his march.

  [Exit.

  DUNOIS.

  Up! forth to meet him!

  [Exit with LA HIRE and CHATILLON.

  CHARLES (to SOREL).

  My Agnes! thou dost weep! Even my strength

  Doth almost fail me at this interview.

  How many victims have been doomed to fall

  Ere we could meet in peace and reconcilement!

  But every storm at length suspends its rage,

  Day follows on the murkiest night; and still

  When comes the hour, the latest fruits mature!

  ARCHBISHOP (at the window).

  The thronging crowds impede the duke's advance;

  He scarce can free himself. They lift him now

  From off his horse; they kiss his spurs, his mantle.

  CHARLES.

  They're a good people, in whom love flames forth

  As suddenly as wrath. In how brief space

  They do forget that 'tis this very duke

  Who slew, in fight, their fathers and their sons;

  The moment swallows up the whole of life!

  Be tranquil, Sorel. E'en thy passionate joy

  Perchance might to his conscience prove a thorn.

  Nothing should either shame or grieve him here.

  SCENE III.

  The DUKE OF BURGUNDY, DUNOIS, LA HIRE, CHATILLON, and two other

  knights of the DUKE'S train. The DUKE remains standing at the

  door; the KING inclines towards him; BURGUNDY immediately advances,

  and in the moment when he is about to throw himself upon his knees,

  the KING receives him in his arms.

  CHARLES.

  You have surprised us; it was our intent

  To fetch you hither, but your steeds are fleet.

  BURGUNDY.

  They bore me to my duty.

  [He embraces SOREL, and kisses her brow.

  With your leave!

  At Arras, niece, it is our privilege,

  And no fair damsel may exemption claim.

  CHARLES.

  Rumor doth speak your court the seat of love,

  The mart where all that's beautiful must tarry.

  BURGUNDY.

  We are a traffic-loving people, sire;

  Whate'er of costly earth's wide realms produce,

  For show and for enjoyment, is displayed

  Upon our mart at Bruges; but above all

  There woman's beauty is pre-eminent.

  SOREL.

  More precious far is woman's truth; but it

  Appeareth not upon the public mart.

  CHARLES.

  Kinsman, 'tis rumored to your prejudice

  That woman's fairest virtue you despise.

  BURGUNDY.

  The heresy inflicteth on itself

  The heaviest penalty. 'Tis well for you,

  From your own heart, my king, you learned betimes

  What a wild life hath late revealed to me.

  [He perceives the ARCHBISHOP, and extends his hand.

  Most reverend minister of God! your blessing!

  You still are to be found on duty's path,

  Where those must walk who would encounter you.

  ARCHBISHOP.

  Now let my Master call me when he will;

  My heart is full, I can with joy depart,

  Since that mine eyes have seen this day!

  BURGUNDY (to SOREL).

  'Tis said

  That of your precious stones you robbed yourself,

  Therefrom to forge 'gainst me the tools of war!

  Bear you a soul so martial? Were you then

  So resolute to work my overthrow?

  Well, now our strife is over; what was lost

  Will in due season all be found again.

  Even your jewels have returned to you.

  Against me to make war they were designed;

  Receive them from me as a pledge of peace.
/>
  [He receives a casket from one of the attendants,

  and presents it to her to open. SOREL, embarrassed,

  looks at the KING.

  CHARLES.

  Receive this present; 'tis a twofold pledge

  Of reconcilement and of fairest love.

  BURGUNDY (placing a diamond rose in her hair).

  Why, is it not the diadem of France?

  With full as glad a spirit I would place

  The golden circle on this lovely brow.

  [Taking her hand significantly.

  And count on me if, at some future time

  You should require a friend.

  [AGNES SOREL bursts into tears, and steps aside.

  THE KING struggles with his feelings. The bystanders

  contemplate the two princes with emotion.

  BURGUNDY (after gazing round the circle, throws himself into

  the KING'S arms).

  Oh, my king!

  [At the same moment the three Burgundian knights hasten to DUNOIS,

  LA HIRE, and the ARCHBISHOP. They embrace each other. The two

  PRINCES remain for a time speechless in each other's arms.

  I could renounce you! I could bear your hate!

  CHARLES.

  Hush! hush! No further!

  BURGUNDY.

  I this English king

  Could crown! Swear fealty to this foreigner!

  And you, my sovereign, into ruin plunge!

  CHARLES.

  Forget it! Everything's forgiven now!

  This single moment doth obliterate all.

  'Twas a malignant star! A destiny!

  BURGUNDY (grasps his hand).

  Believe me, sire, I'll make amends for all.

  Your bitter sorrow I will compensate;

  You shall receive your kingdom back entire,

  A solitary village shall not fail!

  CHARLES.

  We are united. Now I fear no foe.

  BURGUNDY.

  Trust me, it was not with a joyous spirit

  That I bore arms against you. Did you know?

  Oh, wherefore sent you not this messenger?

  [Pointing to SOREL.

  I must have yielded to her gentle tears.

  Henceforth, since breast to breast we have embraced,

  No power of hell again shall sever us!

  My erring course ends here. His sovereign's heart

  Is the true resting-place for Burgundy.

  ARCHBISHOP (steps between them).

  Ye are united, princes! France doth rise

  A renovated phoenix from its ashes.

  The auspicious future greets us with a smile.

  The country's bleeding wounds will heal again,

  The villages, the desolated towns,

  Rise in new splendor from their ruined heaps,

  The fields array themselves in beauteous green;

  But those who, victims of your quarrel, fell,

  The dead, rise not again; the bitter tears,

  Caused by your strife, remain forever wept!

  One generation hath been doomed to woe;

  On their descendants dawns a brighter day;

  The gladness of the son wakes not the sire.

  This the dire fruitage of your brother-strife!

  Oh, princes, learn from hence to pause with dread,

  Ere from its scabbard ye unsheath the sword.

  The man of power lets loose the god of war,

  But not, obedient, as from fields of air

  Returns the falcon to the sportsman's hand,

  Doth the wild deity obey the call

  Of mortal voice; nor will the Saviour's hand

  A second time forth issue from the clouds.

  BURGUNDY.

  Oh, sire! an angel walketh by your side.

  Where is she? Why do I behold her not?

  CHARLES.

  Where is Johanna? Wherefore faileth she

  To grace the festival we owe to her?

  ARCHBISHOP.

  She loves not, sire, the idleness of the court,

  And when the heavenly mandate calls her not

  Forth to the world's observance, she retires,

  And doth avoid the notice of the crowd.

  Doubtless, unless the welfare of the realm

  Claims her regard, she communes with her God,

  For still a blessing on her steps attends.

  SCENE IV.

  The same.

  JOHANNA enters. She is clad in armor, and wears

  a garland in her hair.

  CHARLES.

  Thou comest as a priestess decked, Johanna,

  To consecrate the union formed by thee!

  BURGUNDY.

  How dreadful was the maiden in the fight!

  How lovely circled by the beams of peace!

  My word, Johanna, have I now fulfilled?

  Art thou contented? Have I thine applause?

  JOHANNA.

  The greatest favor thou hast shown thyself.

  Arrayed in blessed light thou shinest now,

  Who didst erewhile with bloody, ominous ray,

  Hang like a moon of terror in the heavens.

  [Looking round.

  Many brave knights I find assembled here,

  And joy's glad radiance beams in every eye;

  One mourner, one alone I have encountered;

  He must conceal himself, where all rejoice.

  BURGUNDY.

  And who is conscious of such heavy guilt,

  That of our favor he must needs despair?

  JOHANNA.

  May he approach? Oh, tell me that he may;

  Complete thy merit. Void the reconcilement

  That frees not the whole heart. A drop of hate

  Remaining in the cup of joy converts

  The blessed draught to poison. Let there be

  No deed so stained with blood that Burgundy

  Cannot forgive it on this day of joy.

  BURGUNDY.

  Ha! now I understand!

  JOHANNA.

  And thou'lt forgive?

  Thou wilt indeed forgive? Come in, Duchatel!

  [She opens the door and leads in DUCHATEL,

  who remains standing at a distance.

  The duke is reconciled to all his foes,

  And he is so to thee.

  [DUCHATEL approaches a few steps nearer,

  and tries to read the countenance of the DUKE.

  BURGUNDY.

  What makest thou

  Of me, Johanna? Know'st thou what thou askest?

  JOHANNA.

  A gracious sovereign throws his portals wide,

  Admitting every guest, excluding none;

  As freely as the firmament the world,

  So mercy must encircle friend and foe.

  Impartially the sun pours forth his beams

  Through all the regions of infinity;

  The heaven's reviving dew falls everywhere,

  And brings refreshment to each thirsty plant;

  Whate'er is good, and cometh from on high,

  Is universal, and without reserve;

  But in the heart's recesses darkness dwells!

  BURGUNDY.

  Oh, she can mould me to her wish; my heart

  Is in her forming hand like melted wax.

  -Duchatel, I forgive thee-come, embrace me!

  Shade of my sire! oh, not with wrathful eye

  Behold me clasp the hand that shed thy blood.

  Ye death-gods, reckon not to my account,

  That my dread oath of vengeance I abjure.

  With you, in yon drear realm of endless night,

  There beats no human heart, and all remains

  Eternal, steadfast, and immovable.

  Here in the light of day 'tis otherwise.

  Man, living, feeling man, is aye the sport

  Of the o'ermastering present.

  CHARLES (to JOHANNA).

  Lofty maid!

  W
hat owe I not to thee! How truly now

  Hast thou fulfilled thy word,-how rapidly

  Reversed my destiny! Thou hast appeased

  My friends, and in the dust o'erwhelmed my foes;

  From foreign yoke redeemed my cities. Thou

  Hast all achieved. Speak, how can I reward thee?

  JOHANNA.

  Sire, in prosperity be still humane,

  As in misfortune thou hast ever been;

  And on the height of greatness ne'er forget

  The value of a friend in times of need;

  Thou hast approved it in adversity.

  Refuse not to the lowest of thy people

  The claims of justice and humanity,