RAIMOND (pointing to the image of the Virgin).

Yon holy image of the Virgin blest,

Whose presence heavenly peace diffuseth round,

Not Satan's work, leadeth thy daughter here.

THIBAUT.

No! not in vain hath it in fearful dreams

And apparitions strange revealed itself.

For three successive nights I have beheld

Johanna sitting on the throne at Rheims,

A sparkling diadem of seven stars

Upon her brow, the sceptre in her hand,

From which three lilies sprung, and I, her sire,

With her two sisters, and the noble peers,

The earls, archbishops, and the king himself,

Bowed down before her. In my humble home

How could this splendor enter my poor brain?

Oh, 'tis the prelude to some fearful fall!

This warning dream, in pictured show, reveals

The vain and sinful longing of her heart.

She looks with shame upon her lowly birth.

Because with richer beauty God hath graced

Her form, and dowered her with wondrous gifts

Above the other maidens of this vale,

She in her heart indulges sinful pride,

And pride it is through which the angels fell,

By which the fiend of hell seduces man.

RAIMOND.

Who cherishes a purer, humbler mind

Than doth thy pious daughter? Does she not

With cheerful spirit work her sisters' will?

She is more highly gifted far than they,

Yet, like a servant maiden, it is she

Who silently performs the humblest tasks.

Beneath her guiding hands prosperity

Attendeth still thy harvest and thy flocks;

And around all she does there ceaseless flows

A blessing, rare and unaccountable.

THIBAUT.

Ah truly! Unaccountable indeed!

Sad horror at this blessing seizes me!

But now no more; henceforth I will be silent.

Shall I accuse my own beloved child?

I can do naught but warn and pray for her.

Yet warn I must. Oh, shun the Druid tree!

Stay not alone, and in the midnight hour

Break not the ground for roots, no drinks prepare,

No characters inscribe upon the sand!

'Tis easy to unlock the realm of spirits;

Listening each sound, beneath a film of earth

They lay in wait, ready to rush aloft.

Stay not alone, for in the wilderness

The prince of darkness tempted e'en the Lord.

SCENE III.

THIBAUT, RAIMOND, JOHANNA.

BERTRAND enters, a helmet in his hand.

RAIMOND.

Hush! here is Bertrand coming back from town;

What bears he in his hand?

BERTRAND.

You look at me

With wondering gaze; no doubt you are surprised

To see this martial helm!

THIBAUT.

We are indeed!

Come, tell us how you come by it? Why bring

This fearful omen to our peaceful vale?

[JOHANNA, who has remained indifferent during the two

previous scenes, becomes attentive, and steps nearer.

BERTRAND.

I scarce can tell you how I came by it.

I had procured some tools at Vaucouleurs;

A crowd was gathered in the market-place,

For fugitives were just arrived in haste

From Orleans, bringing most disastrous news.

In tumult all the town together flocked,

And as I forced a passage through the crowds,

A brown Bohemian woman, with this helm,

Approached me, eyed me narrowly, and said:

'Fellow, you seek a helm; I know it well.

Take this one! For a trifle it is yours.'

'Go with it to the soldiers,' I replied,

'I am a husbandman, and want no helm.'

She would not cease, however, and went on:

'None knoweth if he may not want a helm.

A roof of metal for the Head just now

Is of more value than a house of stone.'

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