the victor; she raises her sword to strike, but, fatally for her
peace, she looks twice before she deals the blow. She cannot strike.

Now follows--but in vain for Johanna--the full accomplishment of her
glorious enterprise, in the coronation of the king at Rheims. Contrary
to the obligation of her high mission, she has received into her heart a
human passion. Her peace is gone. Here the poet, in order to express the
rapid alternations of feeling to which she is a prey, breaks from the
even tenor of blank verse into a lyrical effusion of remarkable beauty
and pathos. She is sought for to take her part in the ceremony of the
coronation; it is now with a feeling of horror that she receives into
her hands the sacred banner, which she had borne triumphantly to so many
victories.

Amongst the crowd who have flocked from all parts to witness the
ceremony, are the family of Johanna, and her old lover Raimond. Her
father Thibaut is also there. He has come to save, if yet possible, his
child from perdition, whom he still persists in thinking under the
influence of wicked spirits, and to have wrought all her wonders by the
aid of diabolic enchantments. Now, therefore, when the king, after his
coronation, turns towards Johanna, and, in the presence of all his
nobility, addresses her as the deliverer of France, this melancholy
father rushes forward to reproach and to blaspheme his child. She,
heartstricken, and conscious of a secret error, though of a quite
different kind from what is laid to her charge, receives in submissive
silence, as the chastisement of heaven, the strange inculpations of her
parent:--

"_Thibaut, to the King_. Thou deem'st thyself deliver'd by
God's power. Thou art abused--this people of France are
blinded! Thou art deliver'd by the devil's craft!

_Dunois_. Does this man rave?

_Thibaut_. Not I, but thou art raving; All these, the wise
archbishop at their head, Rave, in believing that the voice
of heaven Speaks in this wicked girl. Mark, if she dare
Maintain, before her father's face, the juggle With which
she cheats the people and her king. In the name of the Holy
Trinity! Speak! I conjure thee! Dost thou serve with saints,
And with the pure in heart?

[_A universal silence. Every eye
is strained towards Johanna, who stands motionless._

_Sorel_. God! she is mute!

_Thibaut_. So must she be