JOANNA [_seizes him by the plume from behind, and tears his helmet violently down, so that his face is exposed: at the same time she lifts her sword with the right hand_]. Suffer what thou soughtest! The Virgin sacrifices thee through me!
[_At this moment she looks in his face; his aspect touches her; she stands immovable, and then slowly drops her arm._
LIONEL. Why lingerest thou, and stayest the stroke of death? My honour thou hast taken, take my life: 'Tis in thy hands to take it; I want not mercy. [_She gives him a sign with her hand to depart._ Fly from _thee_? Owe _thee_ my life? Die rather!
JOANNA [_her face turned away_]. I will not remember that thou owedst Thy life to me.
LIONEL. I hate thee and thy gift. I want not mercy. Kill thy enemy, Who meant to kill thee, who abhors thee!
LIONEL [_approaches her_]. Thou killest every Briton, I have heard, Whom thou subdu'st in battle: why spare me?
JOANNA [_lifts her sword with a rapid movement against him, but quickly lets it sink again, when she observes his face_]. O Holy Virgin!
LIONEL. Wherefore namest thou The Virgin? _She_ knows nothing of thee; Heaven Has nought to say to thee.
JOANNA [_in violent anguish_]. What have I done! My vow, my vow is broke! [_Wrings her hands in despair._
LIONEL [_looks at her with sympathy, and comes nearer_]. Unhappy girl! I pity thee; thou touchest me; thou showedst Mercy to me alone. My hate is going: I am constrain'd to feel for thee. Who art thou? Whence comest thou?
LIONEL. Thy youth, Thy beauty melt and sadden me; thy look Goes to my heart: I could wish much to save thee; Tell me how I may! Come, come with me! Forsake This horrid business; cast away those arms!
LIONEL. Cast them Away, then, and come with me!
LIONEL. Thou mayst be sav'd: come with me! I will save thee. But delay not. A strange sorrow for thee Seizes me, and an unspeakable desire To save thee. [_Seizes her arm._
JOANNA. Ha! Dunois! 'Tis they! If they should find thee!--
JOANNA. I should die, were they to kill thee.
LIONEL. Shall I ever See thee, hear of thee, again?
LIONEL. This sword for pledge that I will see thee!
LIONEL. I yield to force; again I'll see thee. [_Exit._
The introduction of supernatural agency in this play, and the final aberration from the truth of history, have been considerably censured by the German critics: Schlegel, we recollect, calls Joanna's end a 'rosy death.' In this dramaturgic discussion, the mere reader need take no great interest. To require our belief in apparitions and miracles, things which we cannot now believe, no doubt for a moment disturbs our submission to the poet's illusions: but the miracles in this story are rare and transient, and of small account in the general result: they give our reason little trouble, and perhaps contribute to exalt the heroine in our imaginations. It is still the mere human grandeur of Joanna's spirit that we love and reverence; the lofty devotedness with which she is transported, the generous benevolence, the irresistible determination. The heavenly mandate is but the means of unfolding these qualities, and furnishing them with a proper passport to the minds of her age. To have produced, without the aid of fictions like these, a Joanna so beautified and exalted, would undoubtedly have yielded greater satisfaction: but it may be questioned whether the difficulty would not have increased in a still higher ratio. The sentiments, the characters, are not only accurate, but exquisitely beautiful; the incidents, excepting the very last, are possible, or even probable: what remains is but a very slender evil.