Complete Poetical Works of Robert Southey Page 6

  Of aid from Heaven; for Heaven hath delegated

  A humble Maiden to deliver France. 185

  That holy Maiden asks an audience now;

  And when she promises miraculous things,

  I feel it is not possible to hear

  And disbelieve.”

  Astonish’d by his speech

  Stood Charles. “At one of meaner estimation 190

  I should have smiled, Dunois,” the King replied;

  “But thy known worth, and the tried loyalty

  Of thy father’s house, compel me even to this

  To lend a serious ear. A woman sent 194

  To rescue us, when all our strength hath fail’d!

  A humble Maiden to deliver France!

  One whom it were not possible to hear,

  And disbelieve I.. Dunois, ill now beseems

  Aught wild and hazardous. And yet our state

  Being what it is, by miracle alone 200

  Deliverance can be hoped for. Is my person

  Known to this woman?”

  “That it cannot be,

  Unless it be by miracle made known,”

  Dunois replied; “for she hath never left

  Her native hamlet in Lorraine till now.” 205

  “Here then,” rejoin’d the King, “we have a test

  Easy, and safe withal. Abide thou here;

  And hither by a speedy messenger

  Summon the Prophetess. Upon the throne

  Let some one take his seat and personate 210

  My presence, while I mingle in the train.

  If she indeed be by the Spirit moved,

  That Spirit, certes, will direct her eyes

  To the true Prince whom she is sent to serve:

  But if she prove, as likeliest we must deem, 215

  One by her own imaginations crazed,

  Thus failing and convinced, she may return

  Unblamed to her obscurity, and we

  Be spared the shame of farther loss incurr’d 219

  By credulous faith. Well might the English scoff,

  If on a frantic woman we should rest

  Our last reliance.” Thus the King resolved,

  And with a faith half-faltering at the proof,

  Dunois dispatch’d a messenger, to seek 224

  Beside the banks of Vienne, the mission’d Maid.

  Soon is the court convened: the jewell’d crown

  Shines on a courtier’s head. Amid the train

  The Monarch undistinguish’d takes his place,

  Expectant of the event. The Virgin comes,

  And as the Bastard led her to the throne, 230

  Quick glancing o’er the mimic Majesty,

  With gesture and with look like one inspired

  She fix’d her eye on Charles: “Thou art the King!”

  Then in a tone that thrill’d all hearts, pursued;

  “I come the appointed Minister of Heaven, 235

  To wield a sword before whose fated edge,

  Far, far from Orleans shall the English wolves

  Speed their disastrous flight. Monarch of France!

  Send thou the tidings over all the realm,

  Great tidings of deliverance and of joy; 240

  The Maid is come, the mission’d Maid, whose hand

  Shall in the consecrated walls of Rheims

  Crown thee, anointed King.”

  In wonder mute

  The courtiers heard. Astonish’d Charles exclaim’d,

  “This is indeed the agency of Heaven! 245

  Hard, Maiden, were I of belief,” he said,

  “Did I not now, with full and confirm’d faith,

  Receive thee as a Prophetess raised up

  For our deliverance. Therefore, not in doubt

  Of Providence or thee do I delay 250

  At once to marshal our brave countrymen

  Beneath thy banner; but to satisfy

  Those who at distance from this most clear proof

  Might hear and disbelieve, or yield at best

  A cold assent. These fully to confirm, 255

  And more to make thy calling manifest,

  Forthwith with all due speed I will convene

  The Doctors of Theology, wise men,

  And learned in the mysteries of Heaven.

  By them thy mission studied and approved, 260

  As needs it must, their sanction to all minds

  Will bring conviction, and the sure belief

  Lead on thy favour’d troops to mightiest deeds,

  Surpassing human possibility.”

  Well pleas’d the Maiden heard. Her the King

  leads

  From the disbanding throng, meantime to dwell

  With Mary. Watchful for her Lord’s return 267

  She sat with Agnes? Agnes proud of heart,

  Majestically fair, whose large full eye

  Or flashing anger, or with scornful scowl 270

  Too oft deform’d her beauty. Yet with her

  The lawless idol of the Monarch’s heart,

  The Queen, obedient to her husband’s will,

  Dwelt meekly in accord. With them the Maid

  Was left to sojourn; by the gentle Queen 275

  With cordial affability received;

  By Agnes courteously whose outward show

  Of graciousness concealed an inward awe,

  For while she hoped and trusted through her means

  Charles should’ be re-establish’d in his realm, 280

  She felt rebuked before her.

  Through the land

  Meantime the King’s convoking voice went forth,

  And from their palaces and monasteries

  The theologians came, men who had grown

  In midnight studies grey; Prelates and Priests 285

  And Doctors: teachers grave and with great names,

  Seraphic, Subtile, or Irrefragable,

  By their admiring scholars dignified.

  They met convened at Chinon, to the place

  Of judgement, in St. Katharine’s fane assign’d. 290

  The floor with many a monumental stone

  Was spread, and brass-ensculptured effigies

  Of holy abbots honour’d in their day,

  Now to the grave gone down. The branching arms

  Of many a ponderous pillar met aloft, 295

  Wreath’d on the roof emboss’d. Through storied

  panes

  Of high arch’d windows came the tinctured light;

  Pure water in a font beneath reflects

  The many-colour’d rays; around that font

  The fathers stand, and there with rites ordain’d 300

  And signs symbolic strew the hallowing salt,

  Wherewith the limpid water, consecrate,

  So taught the Church, became a spell approved

  Against the fiends of Satan’s fallen crew;

  A licit spell of mightier potency 305

  Than e’er the hell-hags taught in Thessaly;

  Or they who sitting on the rifled grave,

  By the blue tomb-fire’s lurid light dim seen,

  Share with the Gouls their banquet.

  This perform’d,

  The Maid is summon’d. Round the sacred font,

  Mark’d with the mystic tonsure and enrobed 311

  In sacred vests, a venerable train,

  They stand. The delegated Maid obeys

  Their summons. As she came, a blush suffused

  Her pallid cheek, such as might well beseem 315

  One mindful still of maiden modesty,

  Though to her mission true. Before the train

  In reverent silence waiting their sage will,

  With half-averted eye she stood composed.

  So have I seen a single snow-drop rise 320

  Amid the russet leaves that hide the earth.

  In early spring, so seen it gently bend

  In modest loveliness alone amid

  The waste of winter.


  By the Maiden’s side

  The Son of Orleans stood, prepared to vouch 325

  That when on Charles the Maiden’s eye had fix’d,

  As led by power miraculous, no fraud,

  Nor juggling artifice of secret sign

  Dissembled inspiration. As he stood

  Steadily viewing the mysterious rites, 330

  Thus to the attentive Maid the President

  Severely spake.

  “If any fiend of Hell

  Lurk in thy bosom, so to prompt the vaunt

  Of inspiration, and to mock the power

  Of God and holy Church, thus by the virtue 335

  Of water hallowed in the name of God

  Adjure I that foul spirit to depart

  From his deluded prey.”

  Slowly he spake

  And sprinkled water on the virgin’s face.

  Indignant at the unworthy charge the Maid 340

  Felt her cheek flush, but soon, the transient glow

  Fading, she answer’d meek.

  “Most holy Sires,

  Ye reverend Fathers of the Christian church,

  Most catholic! I stand before you here

  A poor weak woman; of the grace vouchsafed, 345

  How far unworthy, conscious; yet though mean,

  Innocent of fraud, and call’d by Heaven to be

  It’s minister of aid. Strange voices heard,

  The dark and shadowing visions of the night,

  And feelings which I may not dare to doubt, 350

  These portents make me certain of the God

  Within me; He who to these eyes reveal’d

  My royal Master, mingled with the crowd

  And never seen till then. Such evidence

  Given to my mission thus, and thus confirm’d 355

  By public attestation, more to say,

  Methinks, would little boot,.. and less become

  A silly Maid.”

  “Thou speakest,” said the Priest,

  “Of dark and shadowing visions of the night

  Canst thou remember, Maid, what vision first 360

  Seem’d more than fancy’s shaping? From such tale,

  Minutely told with accurate circumstance,

  Some judgement might be form’d.”

  The Maid replied:

  “Amid the mountain vallies I had driven

  My father’s flock. The eve was drawing on, 365

  When by a sudden storm surprised, I sought

  A chapel’s neighbouring shelter; ruin’d now,

  But I remember when its vesper bell

  Was heard among the hills, a pleasant sound,

  That made me pause upon my homeward road, 370

  Awakening in me comfortable thoughts

  Of holiness. The unsparing soldiery

  Had sack’d the hamlet near, and none was left

  Duly at sacred seasons to attend

  St Agnes’ chapel. In the desolate pile 375

  I drove my flock, with no irreverent thoughts,

  Nor mindless that the place on which I trod

  Was holy ground. It was a fearful night!

  Devoutly to the virgin Saint I pray’d, 379

  Then heap’d the wither’d leaves which autumn winds

  Had drifted in, and laid me down upon them,

  And sure I think I slept. But so it was

  That, in the dead of night, Saint Agnes stood

  Before mine eyes, such and so beautiful

  As when, amid the house of wickedness, 385

  The Power whom with such fervent love she served

  Veil’d her with glory. And I saw her point

  To the moss-grown altar, and the crucifix

  Half hid by weeds and grass;.. and then I thought

  I could have wither’d armies with a look, 390

  For from the present Saint such divine power

  I felt infused.... ‘T was but a dream perhaps.

  And yet methought that when a louder peal

  Burst o’er the roof, and all was left again

  Utterly dark, the bodily sense was clear 395

  And accurate in every circumstance

  Of time and place.”

  Attentive to her words

  Thus the Priest answer’d:

  “Brethren ye have heard

  The woman’s tale. Behoves us now to ask

  Whether of holy Church a duteous child 400

  Before our court appears, so not unlike

  Heaven might vouchsafe its gracious miracle;

  Or misbelieving heretic whose thoughts,

  Erring and vain, easily might stray beyond 404

  All reason, and conceit strange dreams and signs

  Impossible. Say, woman, from thy youth

  Hast thou, as rightly mother Church demands,

  Confess’d at stated times thy secret sins,

  And, from the priestly power conferr’d by Heaven,

  Sought absolution?”

  “Father,” she replied,

  “The forms of worship in mine earlier years 411

  Waked my young mind to artificial awe,

  And made me fear my GOD. Warm with the glow

  Of health and exercise, whene’er I pass’d

  The threshold of the house of prayer, I felt 415

  A cold damp chill me; I beheld the tapers

  That with a pale and feeble glimmering

  Dimm’d the noon-light; I heard the solemn mass,

  And with strange feelings and mysterious dread

  Telling my beads, gave to the mystic prayers 420

  Devoutest meaning. Often when I saw

  The pictured flames writhe round a penanced soul,

  I knelt in fear before the Crucifix

  And wept and pray’d, and trembled, and adored

  A GOD of Terrors. But in riper years, 425

  When as my soul grew strong in solitude,

  I saw the eternal energy pervade

  The boundless range of nature, with the sun

  Pour life and radiance from his flamey path,

  And on the lowliest flowret of the field 430

  The kindly dew-drops shed. And then I felt

  That HE who form’d this goodly frame of things

  Must needs be good, and with a FATHER’S name

  I call’d on HIM, and from my burthen’d heart

  Pour’d out the yearnings of unmingled love. 435

  Methinks it is not strange then, that I fled

  The house of prayer, and made the lonely grove

  My temple, at the foot of some old oak

  Watching the little tribes that had their world

  Within its mossy bark; or laid me down 440

  Beside the rivulet whose murmuring

  Was silence to my soul, and mark’d the swarm

  Whose light-edged shadows on the bedded sand

  Mirror’d their mazy sports,.. the insect hum,

  The flow of waters, and the song of birds 445

  Making a holy music to mine ear:

  Oh! was it strange, if for such scenes as these,

  Such deep devoutness, such intense delight

  Of quiet adoration, I forsook

  The house of worship? strange that when I felt

  How GOD had made my spirit quick to feel 451

  And love whate’er was beautiful and good,

  And from aught evil and deform’d to shrink

  Even as with instinct;.. father I was it strange

  That in my heart I had no thought of sin 455

  And did not need forgiveness?”

  As she spake

  The Doctors stood astonish’d, and some while

  They listen’d still in wonder. But at length

  A Monk replied,

  “Woman, thou seem’st to scorn

  The ordinances of our holy Church; 460

  And, if I rightly understand thy words,

  Nature, thou say’st, taught thee in solitude

  Thy fe
elings of religion, and that now

  Masses and absolution and the use

  Of the holy wafer, are to thee unknown. 465

  But how could Nature teach thee true religion,

  Deprived of these? Nature doth lead to sin,

  But ’tis the Priest alone can teach remorse,

  Can bid St Peter ope the gates of Heaven,

  And from the penal fires of purgatory 470

  Set the soul free. Could Nature teach thee this?

  Or tell thee that St. Peter holds the keys,

  And that his successor’s unbounded power

  Extends o’er either world? Although thy life

  Of sin were free, if of this holy truth 475

  Ignorant, thy soul in liquid flames must rue

  It’s error.”

  Thus he spake; applauding looks

  Went round. Nor dubious to reply the Maid

  Was silent

  “Fathers of the holy Church,

  If on these points abstruse a simple maid 480

  Like me should err, impute not you the crime

  To self-will’d reason, vaunting its own strength

  Above eternal wisdom. True it is

  That for long time I have not heard the sound

  Of mass high-chaunted, nor with trembling lips 485

  Partook the holy wafer: yet the birds

  Who to the matin ray prelusive pour’d

  Their joyous song, methought did warble forth

  Sweeter thanksgiving to Religion’s ear

  In their wild melody of happiness, 490

  Than ever rung along the high-arch’d roofs

  Of man:.. yet never from the bending vine

  Pluck’d I its ripen’d clusters thanklessly,

  Or of that God unmindful, who bestow’d 494

  The bloodless banquet Ye have told me, Sirs,

  That Nature only teaches man to sin!

  If it be sin to seek the wounded lamb,

  To bind its wounds, and bathe them with my tears,

  This is what Nature taught! No, Fathers, no!

  It is not Nature that doth lead to sin: 500

  Nature is all benevolence, all love,

  All beauty! In the greenwood’s quiet shade

  There is no vice that to the indignant cheek

  Bids the red current rush; no misery there;

  No wretched mother, who with pallid face 505

  And famine-fallen hangs o’er her hungry babes,

  With such a look, so wan, so woe-begone,

  As shall one day, with damning eloquence,

  Against the oppressor plead!... Nature teach sin!

  Oh blasphemy against the Holy One, 510

  Who made us in the image of Himself,