By means of a flexible blank-verse, plain diction, and free and nervous phrasing, dialogue runs with an easy vigour. It is fired by strong and quickly changing emotion--the incredulity of Charles, the base hostility of la Tremoille, the indignation of Joan's friends, or the amazement and curiosity of the courtiers. But for the most part it remains strictly dramatic poetry; that is to say, raised by several degrees above the level of prose, yet closely fitted to personality. When, however, Joan begins to tell about her life, her quiet country home, and the divine command which bade her save her country, the note deepens. The verse becomes lyrical, burning with the mystical passion which possesses her--a flame, like the grand simplicity of her own nature, white and intensely clear. JOAN. Sire, it was in the spring; one afternoon When I was in a meadow all alone, Lying among the grasses (over head The scurrying clouds were like a flock of sheep, Chased by a sheep-dog); then, all suddenly, I heard a voice--nay, heard I cannot say, There _was_ a voice took hold upon my sense, As if it swallowed up all other sounds In all the world; the birds, the sheep, the bees, The sound of children calling far away, The rustling of the rushes in the stream, Were only like the cloth, whereon appears The gold embroidery, the voice of God. ARCHBISHOP. Did you see aught? JOAN. Yea, see! Our earthly words Cannot express divinity, but like Small vessels over-filled with generous wine, They leave the surplus wasted. If I say, I saw, or heard, that seems to leave untouched The other senses; but indeed, my lords, All of my body seemed transformed to soul. So I should say I _saw_ the voice of God, And _heard_ the light effulgent all around, Nay, heard, and saw, and felt through all of me The radiance of the message of the Lord. Passages like that bring home to us the poetical character of this drama. True, they may remind us that in such a form of the art action is likely to lag: that its movement may be impeded, as toward the end of _Joan of Arc_, by long speeches. On the other hand, they emphasize the peculiar virtue of this kind of drama; the twofold nature of its appeal, and the fact that the two elements are often found concentrated at their highest degree in single scenes of great power. With genius of this type (if genius may be classified in types!), when the dramatic imagination is most vividly alight, it will inevitably kindle poetry of the finest kind.