One-Act Plays Part 46

JEANNE. The wreath is here. I did not dream it, then. I saw him come and lay the wreath at my feet. I saw his uniform, and the uniform was not of France. I saw his face, and it was not a Frenchman's face. I heard his voice, and the voice was an English voice. I do not understand. Why should the English bring a wreath to me? I do not want their wreath. I want no favors from an Englishman. I am Jeanne d'Arc.

I am your enemy, you English, whom I made to bite the dust at Orleans and vanquished at Patay. It was I who bore the standard into the cathedral at Rheims when we crowned my Dauphin the anointed King of France, and English Bedford trembled at my name. Burgundians took me at Compiegne. Your English money bought me from them, and your English hatred gave me up to mocking priests to try for sorcery. You called me "Heretic," "Relapsed," "Apostate," and "Idolater," and burnt me for a witch in Rouen market-place. And now do you lay a wreath at Jeanne's feet? And do you think she thanks you? I scorn your wreath. This wreath an English soldier set at Jeanne's feet. I tear it, and I trample on it. [_FRED and PAUL have awakened during this speech. Both are bewildered at first, like men who dream. But as JEANNE is about to tear the wreath FRED interposes._]

FRED. I dunno if I'm awake or asleep, but that there wreath, lady--I say, don't tear it. I don't know nothing about it bar what you've just said, but if any of our blokes put it there, you can take it from me it was kindly meant.

JEANNE. You? Who are you? You're--You're English.

FRED [_apologetically_]. Yus. I'm English. I don't see that I can help it, though. I just happen to be English same as a dawg. I'm sorry if it upsets you, but I'm English all right. And--No. Blimey, I won't apologize for it. I'm English. I'm English, and proud of it. So there!

JEANNE. Why are the English here in France? Why do I see so many of them?

PAUL. Maid--Jeanne--

JEANNE. You! You are not English. You are a soldier of France.

PAUL. I am of France.

JEANNE. Then shame to you, soldier of France! Shame on a Frenchman who can forget his pride of race and make a comrade of an Englishman!

PAUL. Maid, you do not understand.

JEANNE. No. I do not understand. I do not understand treachery. I do not understand baseness, dishonor, and the perfidy of one who has forgotten he is French. The English are the foes of France, and you consort with them. You--

FRED. 'Ere, 'ere, 'alf a mo'. Steady on, lady. You've got to learn something. All that stuff you've just been talking about the Battle of Waterloo. It's a wash-out now. We've cut it out. This 'ere bloke you're grousing at 'e's a friend of mine, and I'll pipe up for a friend when 'e's being reprimanded undeserving.

JEANNE. It is for that I blame a son of France, that he makes friends with you.

FRED. Well, it's your mistake. That's the worst of coming out of history. You're out of date. If I took my great-grandmother on a motor-bus to a picture-show, she'd have the same sort of fit that you've got, only it's worse with you. You're further back. And I'll tell you something. That old French froggy business is dead and gorn.

We've given it up. Time's pa.s.sed when an Englishman thought he could lick two Frenchmen with one hand tied behind his back. It's a back number, lady. Carpentier put the lid on that. You ask Billy Wells. Us blokes and the French, we're feeding out of one another's hands to-day.

JEANNE. I have seen the English and the French together in the streets. They do not fight.

FRED. Lord bless you, no. Provost-marshal wouldn't let 'em, if they wanted a friendly sc.r.a.p.

JEANNE. They fraternize. I have seen them walking arm-in-arm.

FRED. That's natural enough.

JEANNE. Natural, for French and Englis.h.!.+

FRED. Yes, lady, natural. If you'd seen the Frenchies fighting, same as I have, you'd want to walk arm-in-arm with them yourself, and be proud to do it, too.

PAUL. The English, are our brothers, Maid.

FRED. Gorlummy, we're more than that. I've known brothers do the dirty on each other. Us and the French, we're--why, we're _pals_. So that's all right, lady. Just let me put that wreath back where you got it from. I'm sure you'll 'urt someone's feelings if you trample on it.

[_He tries to take wreath, she prevents him._]

JEANNE. When you have shown me why I should accept an English wreath, perhaps I will. So far I've yet to learn why a soldier of France is friendly with an Englishman.

FRED. I can't show you more than this, can I? [_Links arms with PAUL._]

JEANNE. That is not reason.

PAUL [_unlinking his arm_]. Perhaps I can show you reason. I who was born at Domremy.

JEANNE. You come from there! My home?

PAUL. Yes.

JEANNE. You know St. Remy's church and the Meuse and the beech-tree where they said the fairies used to dance. The tree. Is it still there?

PAUL. I do not know.

JEANNE. And the fields! The fields where I kept my father's sheep, and the wolves would not come near when I had charge of them, and the birds came to me and ate bread from my lap. You know those fields of Domremy?

PAUL. I knew them once.

JEANNE. You knew my church. It still is there?

PAUL. Who can say?

JEANNE. Cannot you, who were baptized in it?

PAUL. Jeanne, the Germans came to Domremy. I do not know if anything is left.

JEANNE. The Germans? But the Germans did not count when I lived there.

FRED. No, and they'll count a sight less before so long.

PAUL. They came like a thunderstorm, Jeanne. They swept our men away.

They tore up treaties, and they came through Belgium and ravished it, and took us unawares. They blotted out our frontiers and came on like the tide till even Paris heard the sound of German guns. And then the English came, slowly at first, and just a little late, but not too late, then more and more and all the time more English came. They swept the Germans from the seas and drove their s.h.i.+ps to hide.

Shoulder to shoulder they have fought for France. They hurled the Germans back from Paris, and when their soldiers fell more came and more. Their plowmen and their clerks, their great lords and their scullions, all came to France to fight with us for la patrie. Their women make munitions and--

FRED. Yus. I daresay. Very fine. Only that'll do. We ain't done nothing to make a song about.

PAUL. Our children and our children's children will make songs of what the English did.

FRED. You let 'em. Leave it to 'em. Way I look at it is this, lady.

There's a big swelled-headed bully, and he gets a little fellow down and starts kicking 'im. Well, it ain't manners, and we blokes comes along to teach 'im wot's wot. That's all there is to it.

PAUL. There's more than I could tell in a hundred years, Jeanne.

FRED. Then what's the good of trying?

JEANNE. He tried because he had to make me understand your friends.h.i.+p and all the n.o.ble thought and n.o.ble deed that lie behind this little wreath. [_She raises the wreath._]

FRED [_interposing_]. Oh, I say now, lady, go easy with that wreath, won't you? I--I wouldn't trample it if I were you. Battle of Waterloo's a long time ago.

JEANNE. Don't be afraid.