Page:Completepoetical1848sout.djvu/62



Suffering no rival, brooking no control, And executing by unrighteous means The judgments of thine own unlawful will." "But hear me, Maid of Orleans!" he exclaim'd: "Should the wolf enter thy defenceless flock, Were it a crime if thy more mighty force Destroy'd the fell destroyer? If thy hand Had slain a ruffian as he burst thy door Prepared for midnight murder, should'st thou feel The weight of blood press heavy on thy soul? I slew the wolves of state, the murderers Of thousands. Joan! when rusted in its sheath The sword of justice hung, blamest thou the man That lent his weapon for the righteous deed?"

Conrade replied, "Nay, Richemont, it were well To slay the ruffian as he burst thy doors; But if he bear the plunder safely thence, And thou should'st meet him on the future day, Vengeance must not be thine: there is the law To punish; and the law alloweth not, That the accuser take upon himself The judge's part; still less doth it allow That he should execute upon the accused Untried, unheard, a sentence, which so given Becomes, whate'er the case, itself a crime." "Thou hast said wisely," cried the Constable; "But there are guilty ones above the law, Men whose black crimes exceed the utmost bound Of private guilt; court vermin that buzz round, And fly-blow the King's ear, and make him waste, In this most perilous time, his people's wealth And blood; immersed one while in sensual sloth, Heedless though ruin threat the realm they rule; And now projecting some mad enterprise, Sending their troops to sure defeat and shame. These are the men who make the King suspect His wisest, faithfulest, best counsellors; And for themselves and their dependents, seize All places, and all profits; and they wrest To their own ends the statutes of the land, Or safely break them; thus, or indolent, Or active, ruinous alike to France. Wisely thou sayest, warrior, that the Law Should strike the guilty; but the voice of Justice Cries out, and brings conviction as it cries, Whom the laws cannot reach, the dagger should."

The Maid replied, "It seemeth then, O Chief, That reasoning to thine own conviction thus, Thou standest self-acquitted of all wrong, Self-justified, yea, self-approved. I ask not Whether this public zeal hath look'd askaunt To private ends; men easily deceive Others, and oft more easily themselves. But what if one reasoning as thou hast done Had in like course proceeded to the act, One of the people, one of low degree, In whom the strong desire of public good Had grown to be his one sole sleepless thought, A passion, and a madness; raised as high Above all sordid motives as thyself; Beneath such impulses of rivalry And such ambitious projects, as perforce Men will impute to thee? had such a man Stood forth the self-appointed minister To execute his own decrees of death, The law on him had rightfully enforced That sentence, which the Almighty hath enjoin'd Of life for life. Thou, chief, art by thy rank And power exempted from the penalty: What then hast thou exampled, — right and wrong Confounding thus, and making lawless might The judge in its own quarrel? Trust me, chief, That if a people sorely are oppress'd. The dreadful hour of overthrow will come Too surely and too soon! He best meanwhile Performs the sage's and the patriot's part, Who in the ear of rage and faction breathes The healing words of love."                          Thus communed they. Meantime, all panic-struck and terrified, The English urge their flight; by other thoughts Possess'd than when, elate with arrogance, They dreamt of conquest, and the crown of France At their disposal. Of their hard-fought fields, Of glory hardly earn'd, and lost with shame, Of friends and brethren slaughter'd, and the fate Threatening themselves, they brooded sadly, now Repentant late and vainly. They whom fear Erst made obedient to their conquering march, Rise on them in defeat, while they retire, Marking their path with ruin, day by day Leaving the weak and wounded destitute To the foe's mercy; thinking of their home, Though to that far-off prospect scarcely hope Could raise a sickly eye. Oh then what joy Inspired anew their bosoms, when, like clouds Moving in shadows down the distant hill, They saw their coming succors! In each heart Doubt raised a busy tumult; soon they knew The English standard, and a general shout Burst from the joyful ranks: yet came no joy To Talbot: he, with dark and downward brow, Mused sternly, till at length aroused to hope Of vengeance, welcoming his gallant son, He brake a sullen smile. "Son of my age, Welcome young Talbot to thy first of fields. Thy father bids thee welcome, though disgraced, Baffled, and flying from a woman's arm! Yes, by my former glories, from a woman! The scourge of France, the conqueror of men, Flying before a woman! Son of Talbot, Had the winds wafted thee a few days sooner, Thou hadst seen me high in honor, and thy name Alone had scatter'd armies; yet, my son, I bid thee welcome! here we rest our flight, And face again the foe." So spake the chief; And well he counsell'd: for not yet the sun Had reach'd meridian height, when o'er the plain Of Patay, they beheld the troops of France Speed in pursuit. Soon as the troops of France Beheld the dark battalions of the foe Shadowing the distant plain, a general shout Burst from the expectant host, and on they prest, Elate of heart and eager for the fight,