RAOUL.

We had a.s.sembled sixteen regiments Of Lotharingian troops to join your host; And Baudricourt, a knight of Vaucouleurs, Was our commander. Having gained the heights By Vermanton, we wound our downward way Into the valley watered by the Yonne.

There, in the plain before us, lay the foe, And when we turned, arms glittered in our rear.

We saw ourselves surrounded by two hosts, And could not hope for conquest or for flight.

Then sank the bravest heart, and in despair We all prepared to lay our weapons down.

The leaders with each other anxiously Sought counsel and found none; when to our eyes A spectacle of wonder showed itself.

For suddenly from forth the thickets' depths A maiden, on her head a polished helm, Like a war-G.o.ddess, issued; terrible Yet lovely was her aspect, and her hair In dusky ringlets round her shoulders fell.

A heavenly radiance shone around the height; When she upraised her voice and thus addressed us: "Why be dismayed, brave Frenchmen? On the foe!

Were they more numerous than the ocean sands, G.o.d and the holy maiden lead you on!"

Then quickly from the standard-bearer's hand She s.n.a.t.c.hed the banner, and before our troop With valiant bearing strode the wondrous maid.

Silent with awe, scarce knowing what we did, The banner and the maiden we pursue, And fired with ardor, rush upon the foe, Who, much amazed, stand motionless and view The miracle with fixed and wondering gaze.

Then, as if seized by terror sent from G.o.d, They suddenly betake themselves to flight, And casting arms and armor to the ground, Disperse in wild disorder o'er the field.

No leader's call, no signal now avails; Senseless from terror, without looking back, Horses and men plunge headlong in the stream, Where they without resistance are despatched.

It was a slaughter rather than a fight!

Two thousand of the foe bestrewed the field, Not reckoning numbers swallowed by the flood, While of our company not one was slain.

CHARLES.

'Tis strange, by heaven! most wonderful and strange!

SOREL.

A maiden worked this miracle, you say?

Whence did she come? Who is she?

RAOUL.

Who she is She will reveal to no one but the king!

She calls herself a seer and prophetess Ordained by G.o.d, and promises to raise The siege of Orleans ere the moon shall change.

The people credit her, and thirst for war.

The host she follows--she'll be here anon.

[The ringing of bells is heard, together with the clang of arms.

Hark to the din! The pealing of the bells!

'Tis she! The people greet G.o.d's messenger.

CHARLES (to DUCHATEL).

Conduct her thither.

[To the ARCHBISHOP.

What should I believe?

A maiden brings me conquest even now, When naught can save me but a hand divine!

This is not in the common course of things.

And dare I here believe a miracle?

MANY VOICES (behind the scene).

Hail to the maiden!--the deliverer!

CHARLES.

She comes! Dunois, now occupy my place!

We will make trial of this wondrous maid.

Is she indeed inspired and sent by G.o.d She will be able to discern the king.

[DUNOIS seats himself; the KING stands at his right hand, AGNES SOREL near him; the ARCHBISHOP and the others opposite; so that the intermediate s.p.a.ce remains vacant.

SCENE X.

The same. JOHANNA, accompanied by the councillors and many knights, who occupy the background of the scene; she advances with n.o.ble bearing, and slowly surveys the company.

DUNOIS (after a long and solemn pause).

Art thou the wondrous maiden----

JOHANNA (interrupts him, regarding him with dignity).

b.a.s.t.a.r.d of Orleans, thou wilt tempt thy G.o.d!

This place abandon, which becomes thee not!

To this more mighty one the maid is sent.

[With a firm step she approaches the KING, bows one knee before him, and, rising immediately, steps back.

All present express their astonishment, DUNOIS forsakes his seat, which is occupied by the KING.

CHARLES.

Maiden, thou ne'er hast seen my face before.

Whence hast thou then this knowledge?

JOHANNA.

Thee I saw When none beside, save G.o.d in heaven, beheld thee.

[She approaches the KING, and speaks mysteriously.

Bethink thee, Dauphin, in the bygone night, When all around lay buried in deep sleep, Thou from thy couch didst rise and offer up An earnest prayer to G.o.d. Let these retire And I will name the subject of thy prayer.

CHARLES.

What! to Heaven confided need not be From men concealed. Disclose to me my prayer, And I shall doubt no more that G.o.d inspires thee.

JOHANNA.

Three prayers thou offeredst, Dauphin; listen now Whether I name them to thee! Thou didst pray That if there were appended to this crown Unjust possession, or if heavy guilt, Not yet atoned for, from thy father's times, Occasioned this most lamentable war, G.o.d would accept thee as a sacrifice, Have mercy on thy people, and pour forth Upon thy head the chalice of his wrath.

CHARLES (steps back with awe).

Who art thou, mighty one? Whence comest thou?

[All express their astonishment.

JOHANNA.

To G.o.d thou offeredst this second prayer: That if it were his will and high decree To take away the sceptre from thy race, And from thee to withdraw whate'er thy sires, The monarchs of this kingdom, once possessed, He in his mercy would preserve to thee Three priceless treasures--a contented heart, Thy friend's affection, and thine Agnes' love.

[The KING conceals his face: the spectators express their astonishment. After a pause.

Thy third pet.i.tion shall I name to thee?

CHARLES.