JOAN OF ARC.

THE TENTH BOOK.

THUS to the martyrs in their country's cause
The Maiden gave their fame; and when she ceased,
Such murmur from the multitude arose,

As when at twilight hour the summer breeze
Moves o'er the elmy vale. There was not one
Who mourn'd with feeble sorrow for his friend,
Slain in the fight of freedom; or if chance
Remembrance with a tear suffused the eye,
The patriot's joy shone through.

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And now the rites Of sepulture perform'd, the hymn to Heaven They chaunted. To the town the Maid return'd, Dunois, with her, and Richemont, and the man Conrade, whose converse most the Virgin loved. They of pursuit and of the future war

Sat communing; when loud the trumpet's voice 15 Proclaim'd a herald's coming.

"To the Maid,"

Such was his errand, "and to thee, Dunois,
Son of the chief he loved, Du Chastel sends

Greeting. The aged warrior hath not spared
All active efforts to partake your toil,
And serve his country; and though late arrived,
He share not in the fame your arms acquire
His heart is glad that he is late arrived,
And France preserved thus early. He were here
To join your host, and follow the pursuit,
But Richemont is his foe. To that high Lord
Thus says my master: We, though each to each
Be hostile, are alike the embattled sons

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Of our dear country. Therefore do thou join
The conquering troops, and prosecute success; 30
I will the while assault what guarded towns
Bedford yet holds in Orleannois: one day,
Perhaps the Constable of France may learn
He wrong'd Du Chastel."

As the herald spake,

Richemont's cheek redden'd, partly with a sense 35

Of shame, and partly anger half supprest. "Say to thy master," eagerly he said,

"I am the foe of those court parasites Who poison the King's ear.

Him who shall serve

Our country in the field, I hold my
Such may Du Chastel prove."

friend:

So said the chief,

And pausing as the herald went his way,
Turn'd to the Virgin : "If I guess aright,
It is not from a friendly tongue's report,
That thou hast heard of me."

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Dissembling not 45

The unwelcome truth, "Yes, chieftain !" she replied, "Report bespeaks thee haughty, violent,

Suffering no rival, brooking no controul,
And executing by unrighteous means
The judgements of thine own unlawful will.”

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"But hear me, Maid of Orleans !" he exclaim'd : "Should the wolf enter thy defenceless flock, Were it a crime if thy more mighty force Destroy'd the fell destroyer? If thy hand Had slain a ruffian as he burst thy door Prepared for midnight murder, should'st thou feel The weight of blood press heavy on thy soul? I slew the wolves of state, the murderers Of thousands. Joan! when rusted in its sheath The sword of justice hung, blamest thou the man That lent his weapon for the righteous deed?" 61

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Conrade replied, "Nay, Richemont, it were well To slay the ruffian as he burst thy doors; But if he bear the plunder safely thence, And thou should'st meet him on the future day, Vengeance must not be thine: there is the law To punish; and the law alloweth not, That the accuser take upon himself The judge's part; still less doth it allow That he should execute upon the accused Untried, unheard, a sentence, which so given

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Becomes, whate'er the case, itself a crime."

"Thou hast said wisely," cried the constable;

"But there are guilty ones above the law,

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Men whose black crimes exceed the utmost bound Of private guilt; court vermin that buzz round, And fly-blow the King's ear, and make him waste,

In this most perilous time, his people's wealth And blood; immersed one while in sensual sloth, Heedless though ruin threat the realm they rule; And now projecting some mad enterprize, Sending their troops to sure defeat and shame. These are the men who make the King suspect His wisest, faithfullest, best counsellors;

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And for themselves and their dependents, seize 85
All places, and all profits; and they wrest
To their own ends the statutes of the land,
Or safely break them; thus, or indolent,
Or active, ruinous alike to France.
Wisely thou sayest, warrior, that the Law

Should strike the guilty; but the voice of Justice
Cries out, and brings conviction as it cries,
Whom the laws cannot reach, the dagger should."

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The Maid replied, "It seemeth then, O chief, That reasoning to thine own conviction thus, Thou standest self-acquitted of all wrong, Self-justified, yea, self-approved. I ask not Whether this public zeal hath look'd askaunt To private ends; men easily deceive Others, and oft more easily themselves. But what if one reasoning as thou hast done Had in like course proceeded to the act, One of the people, one of low degree, In whom the strong desire of public good Had grown to be his one sole sleepless thought, 105 A passion, and a madness; raised as high Above all sordid motives as thyself;

Suffering no rival, brooking no controul,
And executing by unrighteous means
The judgements of thine own unlawful will."

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"But hear me, Maid of Orleans !" he exclaim'd: "Should the wolf enter thy defenceless flock, Were it a crime if thy more mighty force Destroy'd the fell destroyer? If thy hand Had slain a ruffian as he burst thy door Prepared for midnight murder, should'st thou feel The weight of blood press heavy on thy soul? I slew the wolves of state, the murderers Of thousands. Joan! when rusted in its sheath The sword of justice hung, blamest thou the man That lent his weapon for the righteous deed?" 61

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Conrade replied, "Nay, Richemont, it were well To slay the ruffian as he burst thy doors; But if he bear the plunder safely thence, And thou should'st meet him on the future day, Vengeance must not be thine: there is the law To punish; and the law alloweth not, That the accuser take upon himself The judge's part; still less doth it allow That he should execute upon the accused Untried, unheard, a sentence, which so given

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Becomes, whate'er the case, itself a crime."

"Thou hast said wisely," cried the constable;

"But there are guilty ones above the law,

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Men whose black crimes exceed the utmost bound Of private guilt; court vermin that buzz round, And fly-blow the King's ear, and make him waste,