Saint Joan

her. La Hire But by all the devils in hell⁠—Oh, God forgive me, what am I saying?⁠—by Our Lady and all the saints, this must be the angel that struck Foul Mouthed Frank dead for swearing. Charles Triumphantly. You see! A miracle. La Hire She may strike the lot of us dead if we cross her. For Heaven’s sake, Archbishop, be careful what you are doing. The Archbishop Severely. Rubbish! Nobody has been struck dead. A drunken blackguard who has been rebuked a hundred times for swearing has fallen into a well, and been drowned. A mere coincidence. La Hire I do not know what a coincidence is. I do know that the man is dead, and that she told him he was going to die. The Archbishop We are all going to die, Captain. La Hire Crossing himself. I hope not. He backs out of the conversation. Bluebeard We can easily find out whether she is an angel or not. Let us arrange when she comes that I shall be the Dauphin, and see whether she will find me out. Charles Yes: I agree to that. If she cannot find the blood royal I will have nothing to do with her. The Archbishop It is for the Church to make saints: let De Baudricourt mind his own business, and not dare usurp the function of his priest. I say the girl shall not be admitted. Bluebeard But, Archbishop⁠— The Archbishop Sternly. I speak in the Church’s name. To the Dauphin. Do you dare say she shall? Charles Intimidated but sulky. Oh, if you make it an excommunication matter, I have nothing more to say, of course. But you haven’t read the end of the letter. De Baudricourt says she will raise the siege of Orleans, and beat the English for us. La Trémouille Rot! Charles Well, will you save Orleans for us, with all your bullying? La Trémouille Savagely. Do not throw that in my face again: do you hear? I have done more fighting than you ever did or ever will. But I cannot be everywhere. The Dauphin Well, that’s something. Bluebeard Coming between the Archbishop and Charles. You have Jack Dunois at the head of your troops in Orleans: the brave Dunois, the handsome Dunois, the wonderful invincible Dunois, the darling of all the ladies, the beautiful bastard. Is it likely that the country lass can do what he cannot do? Charles Why doesn’t he raise the siege, then? La Hire The wind is against him. Bluebeard How can the wind hurt him at Orleans? It is not on the Channel. La Hire It is on the river Loire; and the English hold the bridgehead. He must ship his men across the river and upstream, if he is to take them in the rear. Well, he cannot, because there is a devil of a wind blowing the other way. He is tired of paying the priests to pray for a west wind. What he needs is a miracle. You tell me that what the girl did to Foul Mouthed Frank was no miracle. No matter: it finished Frank. If she changes the wind for Dunois, that may not be a miracle either; but it may finish the English. What harm is there in trying? The Archbishop Who has read the end of the letter and become more thoughtful. It is true that De Baudricourt seems extraordinarily impressed. La Hire De Baudricourt is a blazing ass; but he is a soldier; and if he thinks she can beat the English, all the rest of the army will think so too. La Trémouille To the Archbishop, who is hesitating. Oh, let them have their way. Dunois’ men will give up the town in spite of him if somebody does not put some fresh spunk into them. The Archbishop The Church must examine the girl before anything decisive is done about her. However, since his Highness desires it, let her attend the Court. La Hire I will find her and tell her. He goes out. Charles Come with me, Bluebeard; and let us arrange so that she will not know who I am. You will pretend to be me. He goes out through the curtains. Bluebeard Pretend to be that thing! Holy Michael! He follows the Dauphin. La Trémouille I wonder will she pick him out! The Archbishop Of course she will. La Trémouille Why? How is she to know? The Archbishop She will know what everybody in Chinon knows: that the Dauphin is the meanest-looking and worst-dressed figure in the Court, and that the man with the blue beard is Gilles de Rais. La Trémouille I never thought of that. The Archbishop You are not so accustomed to miracles as I am. It is part of my profession. La Trémouille Puzzled and a little scandalized. But that would not be a miracle at all. The Archbishop Calmly. Why not? La Trémouille Well, come; what is a miracle? The Archbishop A miracle, my friend, is an event which creates faith. That is the purpose and nature of miracles. They may seem very wonderful to the people who witness them, and very simple to those who perform them. That does not matter: if they confirm or create faith they are true miracles. La Trémouille Even when they are frauds, do you mean? The Archbishop Frauds deceive. An event which creates faith does not deceive: therefore it is not a fraud, but a miracle. La Trémouille Scratching his neck in his perplexity. Well, I suppose as you are an archbishop you must be right. It seems a bit fishy to me. But I am no churchman, and don’t understand these matters. The Archbishop You are not a churchman; but you are a diplomatist and a soldier. Could you make our citizens pay war taxes, or our soldiers sacrifice their lives, if they knew what is really happening instead of what seems to them to be happening? La Trémouille No, by Saint Dennis: the fat would be in the fire before sundown. The Archbishop Would it not be quite easy to tell them the truth? La Trémouille Man alive, they