The Maid of Orleans (play) Read online

  For thy deliverer from the fold was called.

  Beneath thy royal sceptre thou shalt gather

  The realm entire of France. Thou shalt become

  The root and ancestor of mighty kings;

  Succeeding monarchs, in their regal state,

  Shall those outshine, who filled the throne before.

  Thy stock, in majesty shall bloom so long

  As it stands rooted in the people's love.

  Pride only can achieve its overthrow,

  And from the lowly station, whence to-day

  God summoned thy deliverer, ruin dire

  Obscurely threats thy crime-polluted sons!

  BURGUNDY.

  Exalted maid! Possessed with sacred fire!

  If thou canst look into the gulf of time,

  Speak also of my race! Shall coming years

  With ampler honors crown my princely line!

  JOHANNA.

  High as the throne, thou, Burgundy, hast built

  Thy seat of power, and thy aspiring heart

  Would raise still higher, even to the clouds,

  The lofty edifice. But from on high

  A hand omnipotent shall check its rise.

  Fear thou not hence the downfall of thy house!

  Its glory in a maiden shall survive;

  Upon her breast shall sceptre-bearing kings,

  The people's shepherds, bloom. Their ample sway

  Shall o'er two realms extend, they shall ordain

  Laws to control the known world, and the new,

  Which God still veils behind the pathless waves.

  CHARLES.

  Oh, if the Spirit doth reveal it, speak;

  Shall this alliance which we now renew

  In distant ages still unite our sons?

  JOHANNA (after a pause).

  Sovereigns and kings! disunion shun with dread!

  Wake not contention from the murky cave

  Where he doth lie asleep, for once aroused

  He cannot soon be quelled? He doth beget

  An iron brood, a ruthless progeny;

  Wildly the sweeping conflagration spreads.

  -Be satisfied! Seek not to question further

  In the glad present let your hearts rejoice,

  The future let me shroud!

  SOREL.

  Exalted maid!

  Thou canst explore my heart, thou readest there

  If after worldly greatness it aspires,

  To me to give a joyous oracle.

  JOHANNA.

  Of empires only I discern the doom;

  In thine own bosom lies thy destiny!

  DUNOIS.

  What, holy maid, will be thy destiny?

  Doubtless, for thee, who art beloved of heaven,

  The fairest earthly happiness shall bloom,

  For thou art pure and holy.

  JOHANNA.

  Happiness

  Abideth yonder, with our God, in heaven.

  CHARLES.

  Thy fortune be henceforth thy monarch's care!

  For I will glorify thy name in France,

  And the remotest age shall call thee blest.

  Thus I fulfil my word. Kneel down!

  [He draws his sword and touches her with it.

  And rise!

  A noble! I, thy monarch, from the dust

  Of thy mean birth exalt thee. In the grave

  Thy fathers I ennoble-thou shalt bear

  Upon thy shield the fleur-de-lis, and be

  Of equal lineage with the best in France.

  Only the royal blood of Valois shall

  Be nobler than thine own! The highest peer

  Shall feel himself exalted by thy hand;

  To wed thee nobly, maid, shall be my care!

  DUNOIS (advancing).

  My heart made choice of her when she was lowly.

  The recent honor which encircles her,

  Neither exalts her merit nor my love.

  Here in my sovereign's presence, and before

  This holy bishop, maid, I tender thee

  My hand, and take thee as my princely wife,

  If thou esteem me worthy to be thine.

  CHARLES.

  Resistless maiden! wonder thou dost add

  To wonder! Yes, I now believe that naught's

  Impossible to thee! Thou hast subdued

  This haughty heart, which still hath scoffed till now

  At love's omnipotence.

  LA HIRE (advancing).

  If I have read

  Aright Johanna's soul, her modest heart's

  Her fairest jewel. She deserveth well

  The homage of the great, but her desires

  Soar not so high. She striveth not to reach

  A giddy eminence; an honest heart's

  True love content's her, and the quiet lot

  Which with this hand I humbly proffer her.

  CHARLES.

  Thou, too, La Hire! two brave competitors,-

  Peers in heroic virtue and renown!

  -Wilt thou, who hast appeased mine enemies,

  My realms united, part my dearest friends?

  One only can possess her; I esteem

  Each to be justly worthy such a prize.

  Speak, maid! thy heart alone must here decide.

  SOREL.

  The noble maiden is surprised, her cheek

  Is crimsoned over with a modest blush.

  Let her have leisure to consult her heart,

  And in confiding friendship to unseal

  Her long-closed bosom. Now the hour is come

  When, with a sister's love, I also may

  Approach the maid severe, and offer her

  This silent, faithful breast. Permit us women

  Alone to weigh this womanly affair;

  Do you await the issue.

  CHARLES (about to retire).

  Be it so!

  JOHANNA.

  No, sire, not so! the crimson on my cheek

  Is not the blush of bashful modesty.

  Naught have I for this noble lady's ear

  Which in this presence I may not proclaim.

  The choice of these brave knights much honors me,

  But I did not forsake my shepherd-walks,

  To chase vain worldly splendor, nor array

  My tender frame in panoply of war,

  To twine the bridal garland in my hair.

  Far other labor is assigned to me,

  Which a pure maiden can alone achieve.

  I am the soldier of the Lord of Hosts,

  And to no mortal man can I be wife.

  ARCHBISHOP.

  To be a fond companion unto man

  Is woman born-when nature she obeys,

  Most wisely she fulfils high heaven's decree!

  When His behest who called thee to the field

  Shall be accomplished, thou'lt resign thy arms,

  And once again rejoin the softer sex,

  Whose gentle nature thou dost now forego,

  And which from war's stern duties is exempt.

  JOHANNA.

  Most reverend sir! as yet I cannot say

  What work the Spirit will enjoin on me.

  But when the time comes round, his guiding voice

  Will not be mute, and it I will obey.

  Now he commands me to complete my task;

  My royal master's brow is still uncrowned,

  'Twere better for me I had ne'er been born!

  Henceforth no more of this, unless ye would

  Provoke the Spirit's wrath who in me dwells!

  The eye of man, regarding me with love,

  To me is horror and profanity.

  CHARLES.

  Forbear! It is in vain to urge her further.

  JOHANNA.

  Command the trumpets of the war to sound!

  This stillness doth perplex and harass me;

  An inward impulse drives me from repose,

  It still impels me to achieve my work,r />
  And sternly beckons me to meet my doom.

  SCENE V.

  A KNIGHT, entering hastily.

  CHARLES.

  What tidings? Speak!

  KNIGHT.

  The foe has crossed the Marne,

  And marshalleth his army for the fight.

  JOHANNA (inspired).

  Battle and tumult! Now my soul is free.

  Arm, warriors, arm! while I prepare the troops.

  [She goes out.

  CHARLES.

  Follow, La Hire! E'en at the gates of Rheims

  They will compel us to dispute the crown!

  DUNOIS.

  No genuine courage prompts them. This essay

  Is the last effort of enraged despair.

  CHARLES.

  I do not urge you, duke. To-day's the time

  To compensate the errors of the past.

  BURGUNDY.

  You shall be satisfied with me.

  CHARLES.

  Myself

  Will march before you on the path of fame;

  Here, with my royal town of Rheims in view,

  I'll fight, and gallantry achieve the crown.

  Thy knight, my Agnes, bids thee now farewell!

  AGNES (embracing him).

  I do not weep, I do not tremble for thee;

  My faith, unshaken, cleaveth unto God!

  Heaven, were we doomed to failure, had not given

  So many gracious pledges of success!

  My heart doth whisper me that, victory-crowned,

  In conquered Rheims, I shall embrace my king.

  [Trumpets sound with a spirited tone, and while the scene

  is changing pass into a wild martial strain. When the

  scene opens, the orchestra joins in, accompanied by warlike

  instruments behind the scene.

  SCENE VI.

  The scene changes to an open country skirted with trees. During the

  music soldiers are seen retreating hastily across the background.

  TALBOT, leaning on FASTOLFE, and accompanied by soldiers. Soon

  after, LIONEL.

  TALBOT.

  Here lay me down beneath the trees, and then

  Betake you back, with speed, unto the fight;

  I need no aid to die.

  FASTOLFE.

  Oh, woful day!

  [LIONEL enters.

  Behold what sign awaits you, Lionel!

  Here lies our general wounded unto death.

  LIONEL.

  Now, God forbid! My noble lord, arise!

  No moment this to falter and to sink.

  Yield not to death. By your all-powerful will

  Command your ebbing spirit still to live.

  TALBOT.

  In vain! The day of destiny is come,

  Which will o'erthrow the English power in France.

  In desperate combat I have vainly risked

  The remnant of our force to ward it off.

  Struck by the thunderbolt I prostrate lie,

  Never to rise again. Rheims now is lost,

  Hasten to succor Paris!

  LIONEL.

  Paris is with the Dauphin reconciled;

  A courier even now has brought the news.

  TALBOT (tearing off his bandages).

  Then freely flow, ye currents of my blood,

  For Talbot now is weary of the sun!

  LIONEL.

  I may no longer tarry: Fastolfe, haste!

  Convey our leader to a place of safety.

  No longer now can we maintain this post;

  Our flying troops disperse on every side,

  On, with resistless might, the maiden comes.

  TALBOT.

  Folly, thou conquerest, and I must yield!

  Against stupidity the very gods.

  Themselves contend in vain. Exalted reason,

  Resplendent daughter of the head divine,

  Wise foundress of the system of the world,

  Guide of the stars, who art thou then if thou,

  Bound to the tail of folly's uncurbed steed,

  Must, vainly shrieking with the drunken crowd,

  Eyes open, plunge down headlong in the abyss.

  Accursed, who striveth after noble ends,

  And with deliberate wisdom forms his plans!

  To the fool-king belongs the world.

  LIONEL.

  My lord,

  But for a few brief moments can you live-

  Think of your Maker!

  TALBOT.

  Had we, like brave men,

  Been vanquished by the brave, we might, indeed,

  Console ourselves that 'twas the common lot;

  For fickle fortune aye revolves her wheel.

  But to be baffled by such juggling arts!

  Deserved our earnest and laborious life

  Not a more earnest issue?

  LIONEL (extends his hand to him).

  Fare you well!

  The debt of honest tears I will discharge

  After the battle-if I then survive.

  Now Fate doth call me hence, where on the field

  Her web she waveth, and dispenseth doom.

  We in another world shall meet again;

  For our long friendship, this a brief farewell.

  [Exit.

  TALBOT.

  Soon is the struggle past, and to the earth,

  To the eternal sun, I render back

  These atoms, joined in me for pain and pleasure.

  And of the mighty Talbot, who the world

  Filled with his martial glory, there remains

  Naught save a modicum of senseless dust.

  Such is the end of man-the only spoil

  We carry with us from life's battle-field,

  Is but an insight into nothingness,

  And utter scorn of all which once appeared

  To us exalted and desirable.

  SCENE VII.

  CHARLES, BURGUNDY, DUNOIS, DUCHATEL, and Soldiers.

  BURGUNDY.

  The trench is stormed!

  DUNOIS.

  The victory is ours!

  CHARLES (perceiving TALBOT.)

  Look! Who is he, who yonder of the sun

  Taketh reluctant, sorrowful farewell?

  His armor indicates no common man;

  Go, succor him, if aid may yet avail.

  [Soldiers of the KING'S retinue step forward.

  FASTOLFE.

  Back! Stand apart! Respect the mighty dead,

  Whom ye in life ne'er ventured to approach!

  BURGUNDY.

  What do I see? Lord Talbot in his blood!

  [He approaches him. TALBOT gazes fixedly at him, and dies.

  FASTOLFE.

  Traitor, avaunt! Let not the sight of thee

  Poison the dying hero's parting glance.

  DUNOIS.

  Resistless hero! Dread-inspiring Talbot!

  Does such a narrow space suffice thee now,

  And this vast kingdom could not satisfy

  The large ambition of thy giant soul!

  Now first I can salute you, sire, as king:

  The diadem but tottered on your brow,

  While yet a spirit tenanted this clay.

  CHARLES (after contemplating the body in silence).

  A higher power hath vanquished him, not we!

  He lies upon the soil of France, as lies

  The hero on the shield he would not quit.

  Well, peace be with his ashes! Bear him hence!

  [Soldiers take up the body and carry it away.

  Here in the heart of France, where his career

  Of conquest ended, let his relics lie!

  So far no hostile sword attained before.

  A fitting tomb shall memorize his name;

  His epitaph the spot whereon he fell.

  FASTOLFE (yielding his sword).

  I am your prisoner, sir.

  CHARLES (returning his sword).

  Not so! Rud
e war

  Respects each pious office; you are free

  To render the last honors to the dead,

  Go now, Duchatel-still my Agnes trembles-

  Hasten to snatch her from anxiety-

  Bring her the tidings of our victory,

  And usher her in triumph into Rheims!

  [Exit DUCHATEL.

  SCENE VIII.

  The same. LA HIRE.

  DUNOIS.

  La Hire, where is the maiden?

  LA HIRE.

  That I ask

  Of you; I left her fighting by your side.

  DUNOIS.

  I thought she was protected by your arm,

  When I departed to assist the king.

  BURGUNDY.

  Not long ago I saw her banner wave

  Amidst the thickest of the hostile ranks.

  DUNOIS.

  Alas! where is she? Evil I forebode?

  Come, let us haste to rescue her. I fear

  Her daring soul hath led her on too far;

  Alone she combats in the midst of foes,

  And without succor yieldeth to the crowd.