“Shame? What is there shameful about it?”
Joan answered in level, passionless tones:
“One may describe it without hunting far for words. I knew of this
poor comedy, my lord, although it was not intended that I should
know. It is to the credit of the devisers of it that they tried to
conceal it–this comedy whose text and impulse are describable in
two words.”
The Chancellor spoke up with a fine irony in his manner:
“Indeed? And will your Excellency be good enough to utter them?”
“Cowardice and treachery!”
The fists of all the generals came down this time, and again the
King’s eye sparkled with pleasure. The Chancellor sprang to his
feet and appealed to his Majesty:
“Sire, I claim your protection.”
But the King waved him to his seat again, saying:
“Peace. She had a right to be consulted before that thing was
undertaken, since it concerned war as well as politics. It is but just
that she be heard upon it now.”
The Chancellor sat down trembling with indignation, and
remarked to Joan:
“Out of charity I will consider that you did not know who devised
this measure which you condemn in so candid language.”
“Save your charity for another occasion, my lord,” said Joan, as
calmly as before. “Whenever anything is done to injure the
interests and degrade the honor of France, all but the dead know
how to name the two conspirators-in-chief–”
“Sir, sire! this insinuation–”
“It is not an insinuation, my lord,” said Joan, placidly, “it is a
charge. I bring it against the King’s chief minister and his
Chancellor.”
Both men were on their feet now, insisting that the King modify
Joan’s frankness; but he was not minded to do it. His ordinary
councils were stale water–his spirit was drinking wine, now, and
the taste of it was good. He said:
“Sit–and be patient. What is fair for one must in fairness be
allowed the other. Consider–and be just. When have you two
spared her? What dark charges and harsh names have you withheld
when you spoke of her?” Then he added, with a veiled twinkle in
his eyes, “If these are offenses I see no particular difference
between them, except that she says her hard things to your faces,
whereas you say yours behind her back.”
He was pleased with that neat shot and the way it shriveled those
two people up, and made La Hire laugh out loud and the other
generals softly quake and chuckle. Joan tranquilly resumed:
“From the first, we have been hindered by this policy of
shilly-hally; this fashion of counseling and counseling and
counseling where no counseling is needed, but only fighting. We
took Orleans on the 8th of May, and could have cleared the region
round about in three days and saved the slaughter of Patay. We
could have been in Rheims six weeks ago, and in Paris now; and
would see the last Englishman pass out of France in half a year.
But we struck no blow after Orleans, but went off into the
country–what for? Ostensibly to hold councils; really to give
Bedford time to send reinforcements to Talbot–which he did; and
Patay had to be fought. After Patay, more counseling, more waste
of precious time. Oh, my King, I would that you would be
persuaded!” She began to warm up, now. “Once more we have our
opportunity. If we rise and strike, all is well. Bid me march upon
Paris. In twenty days it shall be yours, and in six months all
France! Here is half a year’s work before us; if this chance be
wasted, I give you twenty years to do it in. Speak the word, O
gentle King–speak but the one–”
“I cry you mercy!” interrupted the Chancellor, who saw a
dangerous enthusiasm rising in the King’s face. “March upon
Paris? Does your Excellency forget that the way bristles with
English strongholds?”
“That for your English strongholds!” and Joan snapped her fingers
scornfully. “Whence have we marched in these last days? From
Gien. And whither? To Rheims. What bristled between? English
strongholds. What are they now? French ones–and they never cost
a blow!” Here applause broke out from the group of generals, and