I.

CHARCOAL-BURNER and his WIFE.

CHARCOAL-BURNER.
This is a fearful storm, the heavens seem
As if they would vent themselves in streams of fire;
So thick the darkness which usurps the day,
That one might see the stars. The angry winds
Bluster and howl like spirits loosed from hell.
The firm earth trembles, and the aged elms
Groaning, bow down their venerable tops.
Yet this terrific tumult, o'er our heads,
Which teacheth gentleness to savage beasts,
So that they seek the shelter of their caves,
Appeaseth not the bloody strife of men--
Amidst the raging of the wind and storm
At intervals is heard the cannon's roar;
So near the hostile armaments approach,
The wood alone doth part them; any hour
May see them mingle in the shock of battle.

WIFE.
May God protect us then! Our enemies,
Not long ago, were vanquished and dispersed.
How comes it that they trouble us again?

CHARCOAL-BURNER.
Because they now no longer fear the king,
Since that the maid turned out to be a witch
At Rheims, the devil aideth us no longer,
And things have gone against us.

WIFE.
Who comes here?

SCENE II.

RAIMOND and JOHANNA enter.

RAIMOND.
See! here are cottages; in them at least
We may find shelter from the raging storm.
You are not able longer to endure it.
Three days already you have wandered on,
Shunning the eye of man--wild herbs and root
Your only nourishment. Come, enter in.
These are kind-hearted cottagers.

[The storm subsides; the air grows bright and clear.

CHARCOAL-BURNER.
You seem
To need refreshment and repose--you're welcome
To what our humble roof can offer you!

WIFE.
What has a tender maid to do with arms?
Yet truly! these are rude and troublous times
When even women don the coat of mail!
The queen herself, proud Isabel, 'tis said,
Appears in armor in the hostile camp;
And a young maid, a shepherd's lowly daughter,
Has led the armies of our lord the king.

CHARCOAL-BURNER.
What sayest thou? Enter the hut, and bring
A goblet of refreshment for the damsel.

[She enters the hut.

RAIMOND (to JOHANNA).
All men, you see, are not so cruel; here
E'en in the wilderness are gentle hearts.
Cheer up! the pelting storm hath spent its rage,
And, beaming peacefully, the sun declines.

CHARCOAL-BURNER.
I fancy, as you travel thus in arms,
You seek the army of the king. Take heed!
Not far remote the English are encamped,
Their troops are roamin