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 before that awful name Which, in the depth of hell itself, is fear'd. She—she a saint! she sent from God! No, in a cursed spot—our magic tree Where devils from of yore their Sabbath keep—Has all this been contrived; there did she sell Her soul to the eternal Fiend, to be With brief vain-glory honour'd in this world. Bid her stretch forth her arm, and ye will see The punctures by which hell has mark'd its own.
Burgundy. Horrible! Yet must the father be believed Who thus against his own child testifies.
Dunois. No, no, the madman shall not be believed Who in his own child vilifies himself.
Sorel to Johanna. O speak! break this disastrous silence! we Believe in thee. We have firm trust in thee. One word from thy own mouth, one only word, Shall be enough. But speak! Denounce, confound This hideous accusation. Do but say That thou art innocent, and we believe it.