still to love him!        [JOHANNA turns away with aversion. Thou hatest him?—No, no, thou only canst Not love him:—how could hatred stir thy breast! Those who would tear us from the one we love, We hate alone; but none can claim thy love. Thy heart is tranquil—if it could but feel——     JOHANNA. Oh, pity me! Lament my hapless fate! SOREL. What can be wanting to complete thy joy? Thou hast fulfilled thy promise, France is free, To Rheims, in triumph, thou hast led the king, Thy mighty deeds have gained thee high renown, A happy people praise and worship thee; Thy name, the honored theme of every tongue; Thou art the goddess of this festival; The monarch, with his crown and regal state, Shines not with greater majesty than thou! JOHANNA. Oh, could I hide me in the depths of earth! SOREL. Why this emotion? Whence this strange distress? Who may to-day look up without a fear If thou dost cast thine eyes upon the ground! It is for me to blush, me, who near thee Feel all my littleness; I cannot reach The lofty virtue, thy heroic strength! For—all my weakness shall I own to thee? Not the renown of France, my Fatherland, Not the new splendor of the monarch's crow, Not the triumphant gladness of the crowds, Engage this woman's heart. One only form Is in its depths enshrined; it hath no room    For any feeling save for one alone:    He is the idol, him the people bless, Him they extol, for him they strew these flowers, And he is mine, he is my own true love! JOHANNA. Oh, thou art happy! thou art blessed indeed! Thou lovest, where all love. Thou may'st, unblamed Pour forth thy rapture, and thine inmost heart, Fearless discover to the gaze of man! Thy country's triumph is thy lover's too. The vast, innumerable multitudes, Who, rolling onward, crowd within these walls, Participate thy joy, they hallow it; Thee they salute, for thee they twine the wreath, Thou art a portion of the general joy; Thou lovest the all-inspiring soul, the sun,    And what thou seest is thy lover's glory! SOREL (falling on her neck). Thou dost delight me, thou canst read my heart! I did thee wrong, thou knowest what love is, Thou tell'st my feelings with a voice of power. My heart forgets its fear and its reserve, And seeks confidingly to blend with thine——     JOHANNA (tearing herself from her with violence). Forsake me! Turn away! Do not pollute Thyself by longer intercourse with me! Be happy! go—and in the deepest night Leave me to hide my infamy, my woe! SOREL. Thou frighten'st me, I understand thee not, I ne'er have understood thee—for from me Thy dark mysterious being still was veiled. Who may divine 

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