No More Learning

CHARLES.
Shall I indeed withstand mine enemies?

JOHANNA.
France I will lay submissive at thy feet!

CHARLES.
And Orleans, say'st thou, will not be surrendered?

JOHANNA.
The Loire shall sooner roll its waters back.

CHARLES.
Shall I in triumph enter into Rheims?

JOHANNA.
I through ten thousand foes will lead you there.

[The knights make a noise with their lances and shields,
and evince signs of courage.

DUNOIS.
Appoint the maiden to command the host!
We follow blindly whereso'er she leads!
The Holy One's prophetic eye shall guide,
And this brave sword from danger shall protect her!

LA HIRE.
A universe in arms we will not fear,
If she, the mighty one, precede our troops.
The God of battle walketh by her side;
Let her conduct us on to victory!

[The knights clang their arms and step forward.

CHARLES.
Yes, holy maiden, do thou lead mine host;
My chiefs and warriors shall submit to thee.
This sword of matchless temper, proved in war,
Sent back in anger by the Constable,
Hath found a hand more worthy. Prophetess,
Do thou receive it, and henceforward be----

JOHANNA.
No, noble Dauphin! conquest to my liege
Is not accorded through this instrument
Of earthly might. I know another sword
Wherewith I am to conquer, which to thee,
I, as the Spirit taught, will indicate;
Let it be hither brought.

CHARLES.
Name it, Johanna.

JOHANNA.
Send to the ancient town of Fierbois;
There in Saint Catherine's churchyard is a vault
Where lie in heaps the spoils of bygone war.
Among them is the sword which I must use.
It by three golden lilies may be known,
Upon the blade impressed. Let it be brought
For thou, my liege, shalt conquer through this sword.

CHARLES.
Perform what she commands.

JOHANNA.
And a white banner,
Edged with a purple border, let me bear.
Upon this banner let the Queen of Heaven
Be pictured with the beauteous Jesus child
Floating in glory o'er this earthly ball.
For so the Holy Mother showed it me.

CHARLES.
So be it as thou sayest.

JOHANNA (to the ARCHBISHOP).
Reverend bishop;
Lay on my head thy consecrated hands!
Pronounce a blessing, Father, on thy child!

[She kneels down.

ARCHBISHOP.
Not blessings to receive, but to dispense
Art thou appointed. Go, with power divine!
But we are sinners all and most unworthy.

[She rises: a PAGE enters.

PAGE.
A herald from the English generals.

JOHANNA.
Let him appear, for he is sent by God!

[The KING motions to the PAGE, who retires.



SCENE XI.

The HERALD. The same.

CHARLES.
Thy tidings, herald? What thy message! Speak!

HERALD.
Who is it, who for Charles of Valois,
The Count of Pointhieu, in this presence speaks?

DUNOIS.
Unworthy herald! base, insulting knave!
Dost thou presume the monarch of the French
Thus in his own dominions to deny?
Thou art protected by thine office, else----

HERALD.
One king alone is recognized by France,
And he resideth in the English camp.

CHARLES.
Peace, peace, good cousin! Speak thy message, herald!

HERALD.
My noble general laments the blood
Which hath already flowed, and still must flow.
Hence, in the scabbard holding back the sword,
Before by storm the town of Orleans falls,
He offers thee an amicable treaty.

CHARLES.
Proceed!

JOHANNA (stepping forward).
Permit me, Dauphin, in thy stead,
To parley with this herald.

CHARLES.
Do so, maid!
Determine thou, for peace, or bloody war.

JOHANNA (to the HERALD).
Who sendeth thee? Who speaketh through thy mouth?

HERALD.
The Earl of Salisbury; the British chief.

JOHANNA.
Herald, 'tis false! The earl speaks not through thee.
Only the living speak, the dead are silent.

HERALD.
The earl is well, and full of lusty strength;
He lives to bring down ruin on your heads.

JOHANNA.
When thou didst quit the British army he lived.
This morn, while gazing from Le Tournelle's tower,
A ball from Orleans struck him to the ground.
Smilest thou that I discern what is remote?
Not to my words give credence; but believe
The witness of thine eyes! his funeral train
Thou shalt encounter as you goest hence!
Now, herald, speak, and do thine errand here.

HERALD.
If what is hidden thou canst thus reveal,
Thou knowest mine errand ere I tell it thee.

JOHANNA.
It boots me not to know it. But do thou
Give ear unto my words! This message bear
In answer to the lords who sent thee here.
Monarch of England, and ye haughty dukes,
Bedford and Gloucester, regents of this realm!
To heaven's high King you are accountable
For all the blood that hath been shed. Restore
The keys of all the cities ta'en by force
In opposition to God's holy law!
The maiden cometh from the King of Heaven
And offers you or peace or bloody war.
Choose ye! for this I say, that you may know it:
To you this beauteous realm is not assigned
By Mary's son;--but God hath given it
To Charles, my lord and Dauphin, who ere long
Will enter Paris with a monarch's pomp,
Attended by the great ones of his realm.
Now, herald, go, and speedily depart,
For ere thou canst attain the British camp
And do thine errand, is the maiden there,
To plant the sign of victory at Orleans.

[She retires. In the midst of a general movement,
the curtain falls.




ACT II.

Landscape, bounded by rocks.



SCENE I.

TALBOT and LIONEL, English generals, PHILIP, DUKE OF BURGUNDY,
FASTOLFE, and CHATILLON, with soldiers and banners.

TALBOT.
Here let us make a halt beneath these rocks,
And pitch our camp, in case our scattered troops,
Dispersed in panic fear, again should rally.
Choose trusty sentinels, and guard the heights!
'Tis true the darkness shields us from pursuit,
And sure I am, unless the foe have wings,
We need not fear surprisal. Still 'tis well
To practice caution, for we have to do
With a bold foe, and have sustained defeat.

[FASTOLFE goes out with the soldiers.

LIONEL.
Defeat! My general, do not speak that word.
It stings me to the quick to think the French
To-day have seen the backs of Englishmen.
Oh, Orleans! Orleans! Grave of England's glory!
Our honor lies upon thy fatal plains
Defeat most ignominious and burlesque!
Who will in future years believe the tale!
The victors of Poictiers and Agincourt,
Cressy's bold heroes, routed by a woman?

BURGUNDY.
That must console us. Not by mortal power,
But by the devil have we been o'erthrown!

TALBOT.
The devil of our own stupidity!
How, Burgundy? Do princes quake and fear
Before the phantom which appals the vulgar?
Credulity is but a sorry cloak
For cowardice. Your people first took flight.

BURGUNDY.
None stood their ground. The flight was general.

TALBOT.
'Tis false! Your wing fled first. You wildly broke
Into our camp, exclaiming: "Hell is loose,
The devil combats on the side of France! "
And thus you brought confusion 'mong our troops.

LIONEL.
You can't deny it. Your wing yielded first.

BURGUNDY.
Because the brunt of battle there commenced.

TALBOT.
The maiden knew the weakness of our camp;
She rightly judged where fear was to be found.

BURGUNDY.
How? Shall the blame of our disaster rest
With Burgundy?

LIONEL.
By heaven! were we alone,
We English, never had we Orleans lost!

BURGUNDY.
No, truly! for ye ne'er had Orleans seen!
Who opened you a way into this realm,
And reached you forth a kind and friendly hand
When you descended on this hostile coast?
Who was it crowned your Henry at Paris,
And unto him subdued the people's hearts?
Had this Burgundian arm not guided you
Into this realm, by heaven you ne'er had seen
The smoke ascending from a single hearth!

LIONEL.
Were conquests with big words effected, duke,
You, doubtless, would have conquered France alone.

BURGUNDY.
The loss of Orleans angers you, and now
You vent your gall on me, your friend and ally.
What lost us Orleans but your avarice?
The city was prepared to yield to me,
Your envy was the sole impediment.

TALBOT.
We did not undertake the siege for you.

BURGUNDY.
How would it stand with you if I withdrew
With all my host?

LIONEL.
We should not be worse off
Than when, at Agincourt, we proved a match
For you and all the banded power of France.

BURGUNDY.
Yet much you stood in need of our alliance;
The regent purchased it at heavy cost.

TALBOT.
Most dearly, with the forfeit of our honor,
At Orleans have we paid for it to-day.

BURGUNDY.
Urge me no further, lords. Ye may repent it!
Did I forsake the banners of my king,
Draw down upon my head the traitor's name,
To be insulted thus by foreigners?
Why am I here to combat against France?
If I must needs endure ingratitude,
Let it come rather from my native king!

TALBOT.
You're in communication with the Dauphin,
We know it well, but we soon shall find means
To guard ourselves 'gainst treason.

BURGUNDY.
Death and hell!
Am I encountered thus? Chatillon, hark!
Let all my troops prepare to quit the camp.
We will retire into our own domain.

[CHATILLON goes out.

LIONEL.
God speed you there! Never did Britain's fame
More brightly shine than when she stood alone,
Confiding solely in her own good sword.
Let each one fight his battle for himself,
For 'tis eternal truth that English blood
Cannot, with honor, blend with blood of France.



SCENE II.

The same. QUEEN ISABEL, attended by a PAGE.

ISABEL.
What must I hear? This fatal strife forbear!
What brain-bewildering planet o'er your minds
Sheds dire perplexity? When unity
Alone can save you, will you part in hate,
And, warring 'mong yourselves, prepare your doom? --
I do entreat you, noble duke, recall
Your hasty order. You, renowned Talbot,
Seek to appease an irritated friend!
Come, Lionel, aid me to reconcile
These haughty spirits and establish peace.

LIONEL.
Not I, madame. It is all one to me.
'Tis my belief, when things are misallied,
The sooner they part company the better.

ISABEL.
How? Do the arts of hell, which on the field
Wrought such disastrous ruin, even here
Bewilder and befool us? Who began
This fatal quarrel? Speak! Lord-general!
Your own advantage did you so forget,
As to offend your worthy friend and ally?
What could you do without his powerful arm?
'Twas he who placed your monarch on the throne,
He holds him there, and he can hurl him thence;
His army strengthens you--still more his name.
Were England all her citizens to pour
Upon our coasts, she never o'er this realm
Would gain dominion did she stand alone;
No! France can only be subdued by France!

TALBOT.
A faithful friend we honor as we ought;
Discretion warns us to beware the false.

BURGUNDY.
The liar's brazen front beseemeth him
Who would absolve himself from gratitude.

ISABEL.
How, noble duke? Could you so far renounce
Your princely honor, and your sense of shame,
As clasp the hand of him who slew your sire?
Are you so mad to entertain the thought
Of cordial reconcilement with the Dauphin,
Whom you yourself have hurled to ruin's brink?
His overthrow you have well nigh achieved,
And madly now would you renounce your work?
Here stand your allies. Your salvation lies
In an indissoluble bond with England?

BURGUNDY.
Far is my thought from treaty with the Dauphin;
But the contempt and insolent demeanor
Of haughty England I will not endure.

ISABEL.
Come, noble duke? Excuse a hasty word.
Heavy the grief which bows the general down,
And well you know misfortune makes unjust.
Come! come! embrace; let me this fatal breach
Repair at once, ere it becomes eternal.

TALBOT.
What think you, Burgundy? A noble heart,
By reason vanquished, doth confess its fault.
A wise and prudent word the queen hath spoken;
Come, let my hand with friendly pressure heal
The wound inflicted by my angry tongue.

BURGUNDY.
Discreet the counsel offered by the queen!
My just wrath yieldeth to necessity.

ISABEL.
'Tis well! Now, with a brotherly embrace
Confirm and seal the new-established bond;
And may the winds disperse what hath been spoken.

[BURGUNDY and TALBOT embrace.

LIONEL (contemplating the group aside).
Hail to an union by the furies planned!

ISABEL.
Fate hath proved adverse, we have lost a battle,
But do not, therefore, let your courage sink.
The Dauphin, in despair of heavenly aid,
Doth make alliance with the powers of hell;
Vainly his soul he forfeits to the devil,
For hell itself cannot deliver him.
A conquering maiden leads the hostile force;
Yours, I myself will lead; to you I'll stand
In place of maiden or of prophetess.

LIONEL.
Madame, return to Paris! We desire
To war with trusty weapons, not with women.

TALBOT.
GO! go! Since your arrival in the camp,
Fortune hath fled our banners, and our course
Hath still been retrograde. Depart at once!

BURGUNDY.
Your presence here doth scandalize the host.

ISABEL (looks from one to the other with astonishment).
This, Burgundy, from you? Do you take part
Against me with these thankless English lords?

BURGUNDY.
Go! go! The thought of combating for you
Unnerves the courage of the bravest men.

ISABEL.
I scarce among you have established peace,
And you already form a league against me!

TALBOT.
Go, in God's name. When you have left the camp
No devil will again appal our troops.

ISABEL.
Say, am I not your true confederate?
Are we not banded in a common cause?

TALBOT.
Thank God! your cause of quarrel is not ours.
We combat in an honorable strife.

BURGUNDY.
A father's bloody murder I avenge.
Stern filial duty consecrates my arms.

TALBOT.
Confess at once. Your conduct towards the Dauphin
Is an offence alike to God and man.

ISABEL.
Curses blast him and his posterity!
The shameless son who sins against his mother!

BURGUNDY.
Ay! to avenge a husband and a father!

ISABEL.
To judge his mother's conduct he presumed!

LIONEL.
That was, indeed, irreverent in a son!

ISABEL.
And me, forsooth, he banished from the realm.

TALBOT.
Urged to the measure by the public voice.

ISABEL.
A curse light on him if I e'er forgive him!
Rather than see him on his father's throne----

TALBOT.
His mother's honor you would sacrifice!

ISABEL.
Your feeble natures cannot comprehend
The vengeance of an outraged mother's heart.
Who pleasures me, I love; who wrongs, I hate.
If he who wrongs me chance to be my son,
All the more worthy is he of my hate.
The life I gave I will again take back
From him who doth, with ruthless violence,
The bosom rend which bore and nourished him.
Ye, who do thus make war upon the Dauphin,
What rightful cause have ye to plunder him?
What crime hath he committed against you?
What insult are you called on to avenge?
Ambition, paltry envy, goad you on;
I have a right to hate him--he's my son.

TALBOT.
He feels his mother in her dire revenge!

ISABEL.
Mean hypocrites! I hate you and despise.
Together with the world, you cheat yourselves!
With robber-hands you English seek to clutch
This realm of France, where you have no just right,
Nor equitable claim, to so much earth
As could be covered by your charger's hoof.
--This duke, too, whom the people style the Good,
Doth to a foreign lord, his country's foe,
For gold betray the birthland of his sires.
And yet is justice ever on your tongue.
--Hypocrisy I scorn. Such as I am,
So let the world behold me!

BURGUNDY.
It is true!
Your reputation you have well maintained.

ISABEL.
I've passions and warm blood, and as a queen
Came to this realm to live, and not to seem.
Should I have lingered out a joyless life
Because the curse of adverse destiny
To a mad consort joined my blooming youth?
More than my life I prize my liberty.
And who assails me here----But why should I
Stoop to dispute with you about my rights?
Your sluggish blood flows slowly in your veins!
Strangers to pleasure, ye know only rage!
This duke, too--who, throughout his whole career,
Hath wavered to and fro, 'twixt good and ill--
Can neither love or hate with his whole heart.
--I go to Melun. Let this gentleman,
[Pointing to LIONEL.
Who doth my fancy please, attend me there,
To cheer my solitude, and you may work
Your own good pleasure! I'll inquire no more
Concerning the Burgundians or the English.

[She beckons to her PAGE, and is about to retire.

LIONEL.
Rely upon us, we will send to Melun
The fairest youths whom we in battle take.

[Coming back.

ISABEL.
Skilful your arm to wield the sword of death,
The French alone can round the polished phrase.

[She goes out.



SCENE III.

TALBOT, BURGUNDY, LIONEL.

TALBOT.
Heavens! What a woman!

LIONEL.
Now, brave generals,
Your counsel! Shall we prosecute our flight,
Or turn, and with a bold and sudden stroke
Wipe out the foul dishonor of to-day?

BURGUNDY.
We are too weak, our soldiers are dispersed,
The recent terror still unnerves the host.

TALBOT.
Blind terror, sudden impulse of a moment,
Alone occasioned our disastrous rout.
This phantom of the terror-stricken brain,
More closely viewed will vanish into air.
My counsel, therefore, is, at break of day,
To lead the army back, across the stream,
To meet the enemy.

BURGUNDY.
Consider well----

LIONEL.
Your pardon! Here is nothing to consider
What we have lost we must at once retrieve,
Or look to be eternally disgraced.

TALBOT.
It is resolved. To-morrow morn we fight,
This dread-inspiring phantom to destroy,
Which thus doth blind and terrify the host
Let us in fight encounter this she-devil.
If she oppose her person to our sword,
Trust me, she never will molest us more;
If she avoid our stroke--and be assured
She will not stand the hazard of a battle--
Then is the dire enchantment at an end?

LIONEL.
So be it! And to me, my general. leave
This easy, bloodless combat, for I hope
Alive to take this ghost, and in my arms,
Before the Bastard's eyes--her paramour--
To bear her over to the English camp,
To be the sport and mockery of the host.

BURGUNDY.
Make not too sure.

TALBOT.
If she encounter me,
I shall not give her such a soft embrace.
Come now, exhausted nature to restore
Through gentle sleep. At daybreak we set forth.

[They go out.




SCENE IV.