foe Whom eagerly thy murderous glances seek? This prince is, like thyself, a son of France,—    This hero is thy countryman, thy friend; I am a daughter of thy fatherland. We all, whom thou art eager to destroy, Are of thy friends;—our longing arms prepare To clasp, our bending knees to honor thee. Our sword 'gainst thee is pointless, and that face E'en in a hostile helm is dear to us, For there we trace the features of our king. BURGUNDY. What, syren! wilt thou with seducing words Allure thy victim? Cunning sorceress, Me thou deludest not. Mine ears are closed Against thy treacherous words; and vainly dart Thy fiery glances 'gainst this mail of proof. To arms, Dunois! With weapons let us fight, and not with words. DUNOIS. First words, then weapons, Burgundy! Do words With dread inspire thee? 'Tis a coward's fear, And the betrayer of an evil cause. JOHANNA.    'Tis not imperious necessity Which throws us at thy feet! We do not come As suppliants before thee. Look around! The English tents are level with the ground, And all the field is covered with your slain. Hark! the war-trumpets of the French resound; God hath decided—ours the victory! Our new-culled laurel garland with our friend We fain would share. Come, noble fugitive! Oh, come where justice and where victory dwell! Even I, the messenger of heaven, extend A sister's hand to thee. I fain would save And draw thee over to our righteous cause! Heaven hath declared for France! Angelic powers, Unseen by thee, do battle for our king; With lilies are the holy ones adorned, Pure as this radiant banner is our cause; Its blessed symbol is the queen of heaven. BURGUNDY. Falsehood's fallacious words are full of guile, But hers are pure and simple as a child's. If evil spirits borrow this disguise, They copy innocence triumphantly. I'll hear no more. To arms, Dunois! to arms! Mine ear, I feel, is weaker than mine arm. JOHANNA. You call me an enchantress, and accuse Of hellish arts. Is it the work of hell To heal dissension and to foster peace? Comes holy concord from the depths below? Say, what is holy, innocent, and good, If not to combat for our fatherland? Since when hath nature been so self-opposed That heaven forsakes the just and righteous cause, While hell protects it? If my words are true, Whence could I draw them but from heaven above? Who ever sought me in my shepherd-walks, To teach the humble maid affairs of state? I ne'er have stood with princes, to these lips Unknown the arts of eloquence. Yet now, When I have need of it to touch thy heart, Insight and varied knowledge I possess; The fate of 

 Prev. P 43/81 next