Saint Joan

to 55, being the sort of man whom age cannot wither because he has never bloomed.

The two are in a sunny stone chamber on the first floor of the castle. At a plain strong oak table, seated in chair to match, the captain presents his left profile. The steward stands facing him at the other side of the table, if so deprecatory a stance as his can be called standing. The mullioned thirteenth-century window is open behind him. Near it in the corner is a turret with a narrow arched doorway leading to a winding stair which descends to the courtyard. There is a stout fourlegged stool under the table, and a wooden chest under the window.

Robert	No eggs! No eggs!! Thousand thunders, man, what do you mean by no eggs?
Steward	Sir: it is not my fault. It is the act of God.
Robert	Blasphemy. You tell me there are no eggs; and you blame your Maker for it.
Steward	Sir: what can I do? I cannot lay eggs.
Robert	Sarcastic. Ha! You jest about it.
Steward	No, sir, God knows. We all have to go without eggs just as you have, sir. The hens will not lay.
Robert	Indeed! Rising. Now listen to me, you.
Steward	Humbly. Yes, sir.
Robert	What am I?
Steward	What are you, sir?
Robert	Coming at him. Yes: what am I? Am I Robert, squire of Baudricourt and captain of this castle of Vaucouleurs: or am I a cowboy?
Steward	Oh, sir, you know you are a greater man here than the king himself.
Robert	Precisely. And now, do you know what you are?
Steward	I am nobody, sir, except that I have the honor to be your steward.
Robert	Driving him to the wall, adjective by adjective. You have not only the honor of being my steward, but the privilege of being the worst, most incompetent, drivelling snivelling jibbering jabbering idiot of a steward in France. He strides back to the table.
Steward	Cowering on the chest. Yes, sir: to a great man like you I must seem like that.
Robert	Turning. My fault, I suppose. Eh?
Steward	Coming to him deprecatingly. Oh, sir: you always give my most innocent words such a turn!
Robert	I will give your neck a turn if you dare tell me, when I ask you how many eggs there are, that you cannot lay any.
Steward	Protesting. Oh sir, oh sir⁠—
Robert	No: not oh sir, oh sir, but no sir, no sir. My three Barbary hens and the black are the best layers in Champagne. And you come and tell me that there are no eggs! Who stole them? Tell me that, before I kick you out through the castle gate for a liar and a seller of my goods to thieves. The milk was short yesterday, too: do not forget that.
Steward	Desperate. I know, sir. I know only too well. There is no milk: there are no eggs: tomorrow there will be nothing.
Robert	Nothing! You will steal the lot: eh?
Steward	No, sir: nobody will steal anything. But there is a spell on us: we are bewitched.
Robert	That story is not good enough for me. Robert de Baudricourt burns witches and hangs thieves. Go. Bring me four dozen eggs and two gallons of milk here in this room before noon, or Heaven have mercy on your bones! I will teach you to make a fool of me. He resumes his seat with an air of finality.
Steward	Sir: I tell you there are no eggs. There will be none⁠—not if you were to kill me for it⁠—as long as The Maid is at the door.
Robert	The Maid! What maid? What are you talking about?
Steward	The girl from Lorraine, sir. From Domrémy.
Robert	Rising in fearful wrath. Thirty thousand thunders! Fifty thousand devils! Do you mean to say that that girl, who had the impudence to ask to see me two days ago, and whom I told you to send back to her father with my orders that he was to give her a good hiding, is here still?
Steward	I have told her to go, sir. She won’t.
Robert	I did not tell you to tell her to go: I told you to throw her out. You have fifty men-at-arms and a dozen lumps of ablebodied servants to carry out my orders. Are they afraid of her?
Steward	She is so positive, sir.
Robert	Seizing him by the scruff of the neck. Positive! Now see here. I am going to throw you downstairs.
Steward	No, sir. Please.
Robert	Well, stop me by being positive. It’s quite easy: any slut of a girl can do it.
Steward	Hanging limp in his hands. Sir, sir: you cannot get rid of her by throwing me out. Robert has to let him drop. He squats on his knees on the floor, contemplating his master resignedly. You see, sir, you are much more positive than I am. But so is she.
Robert	I am stronger than you are, you fool.
Steward	No, sir: it isn’t that: it’s your strong character, sir. She is weaker than we are: she is only a slip of a girl; but we cannot make her go.
Robert	You parcel of curs: you are afraid of her.
Steward	Rising cautiously. No, sir: we are afraid of you; but she puts courage into us. She really doesn’t seem to be afraid of anything. Perhaps you could frighten her, sir.
Robert	Grimly. Perhaps. Where is she now?
Steward	Down in the courtyard, sir, talking to the soldiers as usual. She is always talking to the soldiers except when she is praying.
Robert	Praying! Ha! You believe she prays, you idiot. I know the sort of girl that is always talking to soldiers. She shall talk to me a bit. He goes to the window and shouts fiercely through it. Hallo, you there!
A Girl’s Voice	Bright, strong and rough. Is it me, sir?
Robert	Yes, you.
The Voice	Be you captain?
Robert	Yes, damn your impudence, I be captain. Come up here. To the