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!
   I must escape and seek heaven's wide expanse!
   I left my banner in the sanctuary,
   Never, oh, never, will I touch it more!
   It seemed to me as if I had beheld
   My sisters pass before me like a dream.
   'Twas only a delusion!—they, alas!
   Are far, far distant—inaccessible—
   E'en as my childhood, as mine innocence!

   MARGOT (stepping forward).
   'Tis she! It is Johanna!

   LOUISON (hastening toward her).
                 Oh, my sister!

   JOHANNA.
   Then it was no delusion—you are here—
   Thee I embrace, Louison! Thee, my Margot?
   Here in this strange and crowded solitude,
   I clasp once more my sisters' faithful breasts!

   MARGOT.
   She knows us still, she is our own kind sister.

   JOHANNA.
   Your love hath led you to me here so far!
   So very far! You are not wroth with her
   Who left her home without one parting word!

   LOUISON.
   God's unseen providence conducted thee.

   MARGOT.
   Thy great renown, which agitates the world,
   Which makes thy name the theme of every tongue,
   Hath in our quiet village wakened us,
   And led us hither to this festival.
   To witness all thy glory we are come;
   And we are not alone!

   JOHANNA (quickly).
               Our father's here!
   Where is he? Why doth he conceal himself?

   MARGOT.
   Our father is not with us.

   JOHANNA.
                 Not with you?
   He will not see me, then! You do not bring
   His blessing for his child?

   LOUISON.
                  He knoweth not
   That we are here.

   JOHANNA.
             Not know it! Wherefore not?
   You are embarrassed, and you do not speak;
   You look upon the ground! Where is our father?

   MARGOT.
   Since thou hast left——

   LOUISON (making a sign to MARGOT).
               Margot!

   MARGOT.
                    Our father hath
   Become dejected.

   JOHANNA.
            Ah!

   LOUISON.
               Console thyself!
   Our sire's foreboding spirit well thou knowest!
   He will collect himself, and be composed,
   When he shall learn from us that thou art happy.

   MARGOT.
   And thou art happy? Yes, it must be so,
   For thou art great and honored!

   JOHANNA.
                    I am so,
   Now I again behold you, once again
   Your voices hear, whose fond, familiar tones
   Bring to my mind my dear paternal fields.
   When on my native hills I drove my herd,
   Then I was happy as in paradise—
   I ne'er can be so more, no, never more!

      [She hides her face on LOUISON'S bosom. CLAUDE MARIE,
      ETIENNE, and BERTRAND appear, and remain timidly standing
      in the distance.

   MARGOT.
   Come, Bertrand! Claude Marie! come, Etienne!
   Our sister is not proud: she is so gentle,
   And speaks so kindly,—more so than of yore,
   When in our village she abode with us.

      [They draw near, and hold out their hands; JOHANNA
      gazes on them fixedly, and appears amazed.

   JOHANNA.
   Where am I? Tell me! Was it all a dream,
   A long, long dream? And am I now awake?
   Am I away from Dom Remi? Is't so?
   I fell asleep beneath the Druid tree,
   And I am now awake; and round me stand
   The kind, familiar forms? I only dreamed
   Of all these battles, kings, and deeds of war,—
   They were but shadows which before me passed;
   For dreams are always vivid 'neath that tree.
   How did you come to Rheims? How came I here?
   No, I have never quitted Dom Remi!
   Confess it to me, and rejoice my heart.

   LOUISON.
   We are at Rheims. Thou hast not merely dreamed
   Of these great deeds—thou hast achieved them all.
   Come to thyself, Johanna! Look around—
   Thy splendid armor feel, of burnished gold!

      [JOHANNA lays her hand upon her breast, recollects herself,
      and shrinks back.

   BERTRAND.
   Out of my hand thou didst receive this helm.

   CLAUDE MARIE.
   No wonder thou shouldst think it all a dream;
   For nothing in a dream could come to pass
   More wonderful than what thou hast achieved.

   JOHANNA (quickly).
   Come, let us fly! I will return with you
   Back to our village, to our father's bosom.

   LOUISON.
   Oh, come! Return with us!

   JOHANNA.
                  The people here
   Exalt me far above what I deserve.
   You have beheld me weak and like a child;
   You love me, but you do not worship me.

   MARGOT.
   Thou wilt abandon this magnificence.

   JOHANNA.
   I will throw off the hated ornaments
   Which were a barrier 'twixt my heart and yours,
   And I will be a shepherdess again,
   And like a humble maiden I will serve you,
   And will with bitter penitence atone,
   That I above you vainly raised myself.

                [Trumpets sound.





SCENE X.

      The KING comes forth from the church. He is in the coronation
      robes. AGNES SOREL, ARCHBISHOP, BURGUNDY, DUNOIS, LA HIRE,
      DUCHATEL, KNIGHTS, COURTIERS, and PEOPLE.

      Many voices shout repeatedly, while the KING advances,—
      Long live the king! Long live King Charles the Seventh!

      [The trumpets sound. Upon a signal from the KING, the HERALDS
      with their staves command silence.

   KING.
   Thanks, my good people! Thank you for your love!
   The crown which God hath placed upon our brow
   Hath with our valiant swords been hardly won:
   With noble blood 'tis wetted; but henceforth
   The peaceful olive branch shall round it twine.
   Let those who fought for us receive our thanks;
   Our pardon, those who joined the hostile ranks,
   For God hath shown us mercy in our need,
   And our first royal word shall now be, mercy!

   PEOPLE.
   Long live the king! Long live King Charles the good!

   KING.
   From God alone, the highest potentate,
   The monarchs of the French receive the crown;
   But visibly from his Almighty hand
   Have we received it.
      [Turning to the MAIDEN.
   Here stands the holy delegate of heaven,
   Who hath restored to you your rightful king,
   And rent the yoke of foreign tyranny.
   Her name shall equal that of holy Denis,
   The guardian and protector of this realm,
   And to her fame an altar shall be reared.

   PEOPLE.
   Hail to the maiden, the deliverer!

                   [Trumpets.

   KING (to JOHANNA).
   If thou art born of woman, like ourselves,
   Name aught that can augment thy happiness.
   But if thy fatherland is there above,
   If in this virgin form thou dost conceal
   The radiant glory of a heavenly nature,
   From our deluded sense remove the veil,
   And let us see thee in thy form of light
   As thou art seen in heaven, that in the dust
   We may bow down before thee.

      [A general silence; every eye is fixed upon the MAIDEN.

   JOHANNA (with a sudden cry).
   God! my father!

SCENE XI.

      THIBAUT comes forth from the crowd, and stands opposite to her.
      Many voices exclaim,—

   Her father!

   THIBAUT.
          Yes, her miserable father,
   Who did beget her, and whom God impels
   Now to accuse his daughter.

   BURGUNDY.
                  Ha! What's this?

   DUCHATEL.
   Now will the fearful truth appear!

   THIBAUT (to the KING).
                     Thou think'st
   That thou art rescued through the power of God?
   Deluded prince! Deluded multitude!
   Ye have been rescued through the arts of hell!

      [All step back with horror.

   DUNOIS.
   Is this man mad?

   THIBAUT.
            Not I, but thou art mad.
   And this wise bishop, and these noble lords,
   Who think that through a weak and sinful maid
   The God of heaven would reveal himself.
   Come, let us see if to her father's face
   She will maintain the specious, juggling arts
   Wherewith she hath deluded king and people.
   Now, in the name of the blest Trinity,
   Belongst thou to the pure and holy ones?

      [A general silence; all eyes are fixed upon her;
      she remains motionless.

   SOREL.
   God! she is dumb!

   THIBAUT.
             Before that awful name,
   Which even in the depths of hell is feared,
   She must be silent! She a holy one,
   By God commissioned? On a cursed spot
   It was conceived; beneath the Druid tree
   Where evil spirits have from olden time
   Their Sabbath held. There her immortal soul
   She bartered with the enemy of man
   For transient, worldly glory. Let her bare
   Her arm, and ye will see impressed thereon
   The fatal marks of hell!

   BURGUNDY.
                Most horrible!
   Yet we must needs believe a father's words
   Who 'gainst his daughter gives his evidence.

   DUNOIS.
   The madman cannot be believed
   Who in his child brings shame upon himself.

   SOREL (to JOHANNA).
   Oh, maiden, speak! this fatal silence break!
   We firmly trust thee! we believe in thee!
   One syllable from thee, one single word
   Shall be sufficient. Speak! annihilate
   This horrid accusation. But declare
   Thine innocence, and we will all believe thee.

      [JOHANNA remains motionless; AGNES steps back with horror.

   LA HIRE.
   She's frightened. Horror and astonishment
   Impede her utterance. Before a charge
   So horrible e'en innocence must tremble.

      [He approaches her.

   Collect thyself, Johanna! innocence
   Hath a triumphant look, whose lightning flash
   Strikes slander to the earth! In noble wrath
   Arise! look up, and punish this base doubt,
   An insult to thy holy innocence.

      [JOHANNA remains motionless; LA HIRE steps back;
      the excitement increases.

   DUNOIS.
   Why do the people fear, the princes tremble?
   I'll stake my honor on her innocence!
   Here on the ground I throw my knightly gage;
   Who now will venture to maintain her guilt?

      [A loud clap of thunder; all are horror-struck.

   THIBAUT.
   Answer, by Him whose thunders roll above!
   Give me the lie! Proclaim thine innocence;
   Say that the enemy hath not thy heart!

      [Another clap of thunder, louder than the first;
      the people fly on all sides.

   BURGUNDY.
   God guard and save us! What appalling signs!

   DUCHATEL (to the KING).
   Come, come, my king! Forsake this fearful place!

   ARCHBISHOP (to JOHANNA).
   I ask thee in God's name. Art thou thus silent
   From consciousness of innocence or guilt?
   If in thy favor the dread thunder speaks,
   Touch with thy hand this cross, and give a sign!

      [JOHANNA remains motionless. More violent peals of thunder.
      The KING, AGNES SOREL, the ARCHBISHOP, BURGUNDY, LA HIRE,
      DUCHATEL retire.





SCENE XII.

      DUNOIS, JOHANNA.

   DUNOIS.
   Thou art my wife; I have believed in thee
   From the first glance, and I am still unchanged.
   In thee I have more faith than in these signs,
   Than in the thunder's voice, which speaks above.
   In noble anger thou art silent thus;
   Enveloped in thy holy innocence,
   Thou scornest to refute so base a charge.
   Still scorn it, maiden, but confide in me;
   I never doubted of thine innocence.
   Speak not one word; only extend thy hand
   In pledge and token that thou wilt confide
   In my protection and thine own good cause.

      [He extends his hand to her; she turns from him with
      a convulsive motion; he remains transfixed with horror.





SCENE XIII.

      JOHANNA, DUCHATEL, DUNOIS, afterwards RAIMOND.

   DUCHATEL (returning).
   Johanna d'Arc! uninjured from the town
   The king permits you to depart. The gates
   Stand open to you. Fear no injury,—
   You are protected by the royal word.
   Come follow me, Dunois! You cannot here
   Longer abide with honor. What an issue!

      [He retires. DUNOIS recovers from his stupor, casts
      one look upon JOHANNA, and retires. She remains standing
      for a moment quite alone. At length RAIMOND appears;
      he regards her for a time with silent sorrow, and then
      approaching takes her hand.

   RAIMOND.
   Embrace this opportunity. The streets
   Are empty now. Your hand! I will conduct you.

      [On perceiving him, she gives the first sign of consciousness.
      She gazes on him fixedly, and looks up to heaven; then taking
      his hand she retires.





ACT V.

      A wild wood: charcoal-burners' huts in the distance.
      It is quite dark; violent thunder and lightning;
      firing heard at intervals.





SCENE I.

      CHARCOAL-BURNER and his WIFE.

   CHARCOAL-BURNER.
   This is a fearful storm, the heavens seem
   As if they would vent themselves in streams of fire;
   So thick the darkness which usurps the day,
   That one might see the stars. The angry winds
   Bluster and howl like spirits loosed from hell.
   The firm earth trembles, and the aged elms
   Groaning, bow down their venerable tops.
   Yet this terrific tumult, o'er our heads,
   Which teacheth gentleness to savage beasts,
   So that they seek the shelter of their caves,
   Appeaseth not the bloody strife of men—
   Amidst the raging of the wind and storm
   At intervals is heard the cannon's roar;
   So near the hostile armaments approach,
   The wood alone doth part them; any hour
   May see them mingle in the shock of battle.

   WIFE.
   May God protect us then! Our enemies,
   Not long ago, were vanquished and dispersed.
   How comes it that they trouble us again?

   CHARCOAL-BURNER.
   Because they now no longer fear the king,
   Since that the maid turned out to be a witch
   At Rheims, the devil aideth us no longer,
   And things have gone against us.

   WIFE.
                    Who comes here?





SCENE II.

      RAIMOND and JOHANNA enter.

   RAIMOND.
   See! here are cottages; in them at least
   We may find shelter from the raging storm.
   You are not able longer to endure it.
   Three days already you have wandered on,
   Shunning the eye of man—wild herbs and root
   Your only nourishment. Come, enter in.
   These are kind-hearted cottagers.

      [The storm subsides; the air grows bright and clear.

   CHARCOAL-BURNER.
                     You seem
   To need refreshment and repose—you're welcome
   To what our humble roof can offer you!

   WIFE.
   What has a tender maid to do with arms?
   Yet truly! these are rude and troublous times
   When even women don the coat of mail!
   The queen herself, proud Isabel, 'tis said,
   Appears in armor in the hostile camp;
   And a young maid, a shepherd's lowly daughter,
   Has led the armies of our lord the king.

   CHARCOAL-BURNER.
   What sayest thou? Enter the hut, and bring
   A goblet of refreshment for the damsel.

             [She enters the hut.

   RAIMOND (to JOHANNA).
   All men, you see, are not so cruel; here
   E'en in the wilderness are gentle hearts.
   Cheer up! the pelting storm hath spent its rage,
   And, beaming peacefully, the sun declines.

   CHARCOAL-BURNER.
   I fancy, as you travel thus in arms,
   You seek the army of the king. Take heed!
   Not far remote the English are encamped,
   Their troops are roaming idly through the wood.

   RAIMOND.
   Alas for us! how then can we escape?

   CHARCOAL-BURNER.
   Stay here till from the town my boy returns.
   He shall conduct you safe by secret paths.
   You need not fear-we know each hidden way.

   RAIMOND (to JOHANNA).
   Put off your helmet and your coat-of-mail,
   They will not now protect you, but betray.

      [JOHANNA shakes her head.

   CHARCOAL-BURNER.
   The maid seems very sad—hush! who comes here?





SCENE III.

      CHARCOAL-BURNER'S WIFE comes out of the hut
      with a bowl. A Boy.

   WIFE.
   It is our boy whom we expected back.
      [To JOHANNA.
   Drink, noble maiden! may God bless it to you!

   CHARCOAL-BURNER (to his son).
   Art come, Anet? What news?

      [The boy looks at JOHANNA, who is just raising the
      bowl to her lips; he recognizes her, steps forward,
      and snatches it from her.

   BOY.
                  Oh, mother! mother!
   Whom do you entertain? This is the witch
   Of Orleans!

   CHARCOAL-BURNER (and his WIFE).
          God be gracious to our souls!

      [They cross themselves and fly.





SCENE IV.

      RAIMOND, JOHANNA.

   JOHANNA (calmly and gently)
   Thou seest, I am followed by the curse,
   And all fly from me. Do thou leave me, too;
   Seek safety for thyself.

   RAIMOND.
                I leave thee! now
   Alas, who then would bear thee company?

   JOHANNA.
   I am not unaccompanied. Thou hast
   Heard the loud thunder rolling o'er my head—
   My destiny conducts me. Do not fear;
   Without my seeking I shall reach the goal.

   RAIMOND.
   And whither wouldst thou go? Here stand our foes,
   Who have against thee bloody vengeance sworn—
   There stand our people who have banished thee.

   JOHANNA.
   Naught will befall me but what heaven ordains.

   RAIMOND.
   Who will provide thee food? and who protect thee
   From savage beasts, and still more savage men?
   Who cherish thee in sickness and in grief?

   JOHANNA.
   I know all roots and healing herbs; my sheep
   Taught me to know the poisonous from the wholesome.
   I understand the movements of the stars,
   And the clouds' flight; I also hear the sound
   Of hidden springs.