Joan of Arc Part 21

I claim it now.

WAR. Name ought I can concede, But spare, oh, spare what honour must forbid Du Nois to ask, or Warwick grant.

[_Going,_

DU N. Stay! hear me!

Give but the word, the countersign agreed, And by the holy fount of truth I swear No blood of thine shall flow this day through me.

Nay, more, if ought of blame attach to thee, I swear to place myself in Bedford's power.

Let me not plead in vain. By all that justice, By all that mercy, all that pity wakes, By all that thou hast sworn of love to woman, Grant my request!

WAR. Cease! cease! a cruel strife Thou raisest in my breast.

[_Countess kneels to WARWICK._

DU N. Ah! see who pleads!

Canst thou resist that look? By this joint act--

WAR. Du Nois, my Alice, rise--spare me this trial.

DU N. End this suspense.

WAR. It must not, cannot be.

Witness, O Heaven! what this denial costs.

But honour's laws forbid what feeling prompts-- The friend would grant--the soldier must deny.

[_Going, he returns._ Wouldst see her once again--here is my signet-- Thou needst not pity less than I. Farewell.

[_Exeunt._

DU N. Cut off from ev'ry hope!--friend, foe alike-- Has Heaven itself forgotten to be just?

Oh, curse of courage, impotence of strength, Panting to dare the worst, denied the means.

But I shall see her once again--Oh, joy!

Oh, agony! can ye indeed thus meet?

SCENE VI.--_Prison._

JOAN.

JOAN. How in its terrors hath the tempest raged!

'Tis misery's privilege alone to hear The crash of warring elements unmoved, And coldly tranquil press the iron couch.

These drops are but the remnant of the storm, Cast by the pitying spirit as he fled, His work of vengeance done, his fury quenched.

So fall the tears of fond regret, that bathe The mourner's cheek, when time hath partly soothed her; Large but not frequent, sad but not acute, Sure proof of anguish past, not sorrow nigh.

And see, the young dawn from the sable couch Of her more ancient spouse, now softly steals, All bright and lovely, though in tears bedewed, Silent to watch the rising beams of him Beneath whose glance she melts, but must not wed.

Her love is set too high, and night, all foul, As he appears in her averted eyes, Again shall clasp her in his chilly arms, And loathing claim her his. Her fate is mine, And death, cold death, the bridegroom by whose side I soon shall rest.

_Enter DU NOIS._

DU N. This then is thy abode!

This iron bed thy couch, this straw thy pillow!

JOAN. Whose voice----

DU N. Knowst me not, Joan?

JOAN. Du Nois! thou here?

Oh say, what brings thee to this sad abode?

Alas! has evil too befallen thee?

DU N. The anguish of a mind that ne'er has learnt To bear a load exertion may not soothe.

My life was set to see thee once again, Though in the gloom, the horrors of a prison.

JOAN. Thou dost not deem me then accursed, forsaken, Stained with foulest crime?

DU N. Thee cursed, forsaken!

Oh, yes! thou'rt cursed indeed with too much merit, And greater crime is none.

JOAN. By thee acquitted!

Oh! happiness! oh! unexpected bliss!

I yet possess a friend!

DU N. (Burst, heart, thy bonds!) Doth friendship's sacred garb clothe friendship only?

Recall the past, remember Orleans' walls, The battles fought, the warring perils shared, The blessings joined--how have I wounded thee?

JOAN. I stand upon the confines of the grave, And must not, dare not think upon the past.

The reed hath bounds, and by the tempest spared, May sink beneath an insect. I've borne much, And this unlooked-for kindness overpowers me.

But one request.

DU N. Name it--give me some share In thee, though in the giving it must cease.

JOAN. The seal of death is on me now. This chain, the king-- 'Twill tell its own sad tale--but say to him-- No--down throbbing heart--farewell. Oh! leave me!

Yet let me gaze once more upon a friend, Ere I and earthly comfort part for ever.

Thou'lt sometimes think of me when I am gone, And midst the shouts of victory, perhaps, Will hear the voice, will see the form of her Who often shared those triumphs by thy side,-- Wilt mark the vacant place with kindly sorrow?

Once more I'll press this valiant hand--and then-- Farewell, for ever.

_Enter COUNTESS._

COUNT. Du Nois.

DU N. Ha! who calls?

COUNT. Behold this scroll: here read what you would know.

Haste! haste! from Warwick I have stol'n unseen, And trait'rous been to him whom most I love, In love's own cause.

DU N. And thou, for this disloyalty, Shall be absolved--this pure and holy act Shall win approval e'en from Heaven itself, And plead for thee when other deeds may fail thee.

COUNT. Blame not my Warwick for his stern resolve:-- Firm as he is, he has a tender heart.

Had not his face been buried in his arm, To hide the tears he shed, I had not thus Escaped him unperceived.

DU N. Yet is there hope.

Ah! say, couldst thou be plucked from this dread fate.

JOAN. Delude me not with erring thought of bliss, Nor yet deceive thyself--ere morrow's dawn The dews will bathe the spot where earthly suff'ring Hath found an end. No hand, though brave as thine, Can pluck me from it.