Anna Swanwick - The Maid of Orleans (Act 3 Scene 4) lyrics

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 a**embled 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 d**h-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! What 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, 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 j**el. 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 a**igned 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 s**, 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 hara** me; An inward impulse drives me from repose, It still impels me to achieve my work, And sternly beckons me to meet my doom.