You call me an enchantress, and accuse Of hellish arts. Is it the work of hell To heal dissension and to foster peace? Comes holy concord from the depths below? Say, what is holy, innocent, and good, If not to combat for our fatherland? Since when hath nature been so self-opposed That heaven forsakes the just and righteous cause, While hell protects it? If my words are true, Whence could I draw them but from heaven above? Who ever sought me in my shepherd-walks, To teach the humble maid affairs of state? I ne'er have stood with princes, to these lips Unknown the arts of eloquence. Yet now, When I have need of it to touch thy heart, Insight and varied knowledge I possess; The fate of empires and the doom of kings Lie clearly spread before my childish mind, And words of thunder issue from my mouth. BURGUNDY (greatly moved, looks at her with emotion and astonishment). How is it with me? Doth some heavenly power Thus strangely stir my spirit's inmost depths? This pure, this gentle creature cannot lie! No, if enchantment blinds me, 'tis from heaven. My spirit tells me she is sent from God.

Johanna Monologue from The Maid of Orleans: A Tragedy

Rehearse Johanna's monologue