Joan of Arc Part 20

BED. No more!

Thou dost but aggravate the guilt too clear.

Hear thy dread sentence, and prepare to meet it-- Convicted of the cursed crime of witchcraft, Thou diest at noon to-morrow.

BEAU. This subdues her.

The blood has left her cheek, and as a statue, Transfixed, she stands. One might dispute she breathed But for her quivering lip. See! she would speak, But the words die.

JOAN. The bitter cup is full!

Believed a reprobate and leagued with h.e.l.l, My name, my memory held in destestation!

Die as accursed of Heaven! (_to_ BEAU.) 'Tis false! most false!

And on thy head a deeper crime shall rest, Than this so foul thou lay'st to me--the weight Of guiltless blood. Thou mays't condemn me here; But think, once more before the judgment-seat Of Him who all shall judge, we must again Each other meet. How wilt thou meet me there?

This charge unjust shall scathe thy shudd'ring soul, And sight of me shall blast thy hopes of heaven.

Prince, thou'rt of gallant race.

BED. I'll hear no more.

JOAN. Oh! there are those who on this hour will think With bitterness, when princely honour goads, And n.o.blest blood proves no defence.

BEAU. (_to Bed._) She threatens!

Beware lest some malign, some fatal influence--

JOAN. Blind Man! the dumb e'en now have found a voice To curb injustice. The poor worm itself Will, by its very writhings, plead its wrongs, And show the cruelty of him that crushed it.

Oh! not for life I plead--death hath no terror, Existence scarce one charm to cheat my eyes.

Grant me the doom thou threat'st--nor pa.s.sing sigh, Nor murmur shall escape me; but to die On this most monstrous charge! I kneel to thee And thus would stir the soldier in thy breast, The patriot, the upright man, if not the judge.

[_Kneels to BEDFORD._

BED. We owe the act in justice to ourselves And to our veterans' arms.

JOAN. Welcome that thought. [_Rises._ I have no more to ask: rightly thou sayst.

A woman's hand hath dimmed thy splendid name, And writ upon thy soldier's brow--defeat, And in a woman's blood wash out the stain.

But oh! injurious prince, of this be sure-- Thou never wilt regain what thou hast lost.

The land is free, her chain for ever broken; Nor force of arms nor policy shall wrest The sceptre from the hand that wields it now.

But hark! what means that agonizing shout, That wail of lamentation, noise confused, The braying of the battle? A frantic matricide The mother is become, and drunk with blood Of sons of France, now slakes unnat'ral thirst In the red fountain of her children's veins-- Showing in all her cruelty and rage, From whom she took the cup of retribution.

(_To Bedford._) And thou, thou art disgraced--this unjust deed Shall sully thy fair name to latest time-- Shall wrest from England's son a blush for thee-- A proud acquittal for myself.

SCENE V.

WARWICK. COUNTESS.

COUNT. Hail, lovely May!

Thou month of flowers, sweet hopes and rapt'rous song; Young zephyrs kiss thy steps and scatter bliss.

But how! thou dost not answer, dost not heed me.

WAR. This cheerful sky ill suits this day's proceedings.

The maid this morning is condemned to die.

COUNT. Canst thou not save her? If my Warwick plead, None may resist him.

WAR. Bedford, Burgundy, Have not, my gentle Alice, hearts like thine.

As well might I essay to win, by words, The ravening tiger to relax his hold, When the first taste of blood is on his tongue, As these to mitigate the maiden's doom.

COUNT. She must not die--so young, and, I could say, Although it scents of war, so brave; and, ah!

Perhaps some gallant knight has won her heart.

It must be so! woman was born to love-- The mean, some mean companion to divide Her joys; the n.o.ble, one than self more n.o.ble-- That heavy sigh!

WAR. A hateful task is mine.

The barbarous sentence I must see enforced.

Oh! would we were upon the banks of Avon!--

COUNT. Would that we were! my arm fast lock'd in thine, Not clad in steel, but--

WAR. Hark! the bell has struck That calls me to my duty.

COUNT. I did not hear it.

The wind, more kind than thou, has shook its wings, And the unwelcome sound dispersed in pity.

Nay, thou mayst linger yet.

_Enter ATTENDANT, followed by DU NOIS._

WAR. Whence this intrusion?

DU N. Bid him retire. (_Raises his vizor._)

WAR. Du Nois! what madness brings thee?

DU N. That which hath turned the fate of empires, kings-- Mine now is in thy hands.

WAR. Explain. (I tremble.)

DU N. This is no time for words--less for concealment.

This day--a deed--

WAR. Oh, heaven!

DU N. What wouldst venture For sake of yon sweet form should ill a.s.sail her?

WAR. My life were worthless in such cause.

DU N. Couldst see her Dragged from thy arms to meet a horrid death?

WAR. Earth's potentates combined should fail to part us.

DU N. Warwick! there was a time when ice had bound These lips, and easier 'twere to die than speak.

I felt ashamed it should be thought I loved; But now, with equal agony and pride, I own--I love.--

WAR. The maid! unhappy friend!

DU N. Thou hast not, then, forgot thy former pledge-- The pledge thou gav'st, when from my hands redeemed, "Should ever need be thine--remember Warwick."