Saint Joan Segment IV

George Bernard Shaw's 

Saint Joan

(Segment IV)

(Source courtesy: Cliffnotes)

THE PREFACE

Shaw often writes a lengthy preface to his plays for his readers in which he will comment on matters in the play or matters relevant to it. The Preface to Saint Joan is one of Shaw's longer ones and presents again many of his views of the personage of Joan from a more objective point of view. The Preface is divided into forty-one sub-sections, which could be loosely divided into the following categories for discussion:

(A) Sections 1-16: Various Views of the Historical Joan

(B) Sections 17-21: Misrepresentations of Joan in Literature and in Relation to Medieval Society and the Medieval Church

(C) Sections 22-34: The Nature of Joan's Death in Relation to Modern Acts of Inhumanity

(D) Sections 35-41: The Nature of Historical Drama and Saint Joan viewed as a Tragedy

A - Sections 1 – 16: Various Views of the Historical Joan

1.     Joan the Original and Presumptuous

2.     Joan and Socrates

3.     Contrast with Napoleon

4.     Was Joan Innocent or Guilty?

5.     Joan's Good Looks

6.     Joan's Social Position

7.     Joan's Voices and Visions

8.     The Evolutionary Appetite

9.     The Mere Iconography does not Matter

10.  The Modern Education which Joan Escaped

11.  Failures of the Voices

12.  Joan a Galtonic Visualizer

13.  Joan's Manliness and Militarism

14.  Was Joan Suicidal?

15.  Joan Summed Up

16.  Joan's Immaturity and Ignorance

Shaw sees Joan, ironically, as one of the first Protestant martyrs and as a forerunner of equality for women; Joan was burned as a heretic, thus martyred, for two primary reasons: (1) even though Joan never denied the Church and although she constantly turned to it for solace, she was, in essence, the "first Protestant" because she listened to the dictates of her own conscience and her own reasoning rather than to the authority of the Church; (2) she was "the pioneer of rational dressing for women," yet for this so-called unwomanly and, thus, unnatural act, she was burnt at the stake.

Joan was innocent in all things. She was like Socrates in that she was able to humiliate, without intending to do so, all kinds of people in high authority. It is extremely dangerous to publicly expose the ignorance of people in authority, and, for this, Joan and Socrates were put to death. In reality, Joan was a rather unsophisticated country girl who, while uneducated, was far from unintelligent. The fact that she could not read or write (Marie Antoinette could not even spell her own name at Joan's age) does not matter; she did, however, manage to dictate full and comprehensive letters and to understand thoroughly the political and, especially, the military situation in France, and she had the common sense and ability to put her views in action. Since no one would believe that a simple country girl could be so talented, Joan attributed her views to "her voices and visions." To Shaw, "there are people in the world whose imagination is so vivid that when they have an idea it comes to them as an audible voice, sometimes uttered by a visible figure." Thus, Joan is able to intellectually analyze a situation so clearly that her knowledge seems, to her, to come from an outside source when, in reality, it is her own innate, unrecognized genius coming from her intelligence and imagination, tempered by her good common sense, her practical management of military affairs, and her own personal courage and dedication. These are, indeed, the qualities which make for a saint. Ultimately, however, Joan's inability to fathom the complicated structure of the medieval aristocracy or the medieval Church brought about her burning.

B – Sections 17 – 21: Misrepresentations of Joan in Literature and in Relation to Medieval Society and the Medieval Church

17.  The Maid in Literature

18.  Protestant Misunderstandings of the Middle Ages

19.  Comparative Fairness of Joan's Trial

20.  Joan not Tried as a Political Offender

21.  The Church Uncompromised by its Amends

Joan has inspired others to write about her and to ascribe to her all sorts of qualities which are not always historically true, and also to interpret her actions in various ways throughout the centuries. Most of these accounts distort both Joan's life and medieval society as well. From Shakespeare through Voltaire, from Schiller to Mark Twain, and from Anatole France and others, Joan and her trials have been the source for writers to interpret her fate, according to the age in which the writer lived. None, however, have depicted her accurately; all writers are victims of their own prejudices because to understand Joan, one must understand her environment. Shaw says: ". . . to see her in her proper perspective, you must understand Christendom and the Catholic Church, the Holy Roman Empire, and the Feudal System as they existed and were understood in the Middle Ages." At that time, there were no "neutral tribunals"; therefore, neither Joan nor anyone could possibly have received an impartial trial — that is, Joan was tried not as a traitor to her country but as a heretic against God and God's Church. Her judges did not recognize national boundaries, only the Universal Church, and the Church could not tolerate Joan's questioning its authority.

C – Sections 22 - 34: The Nature of Joan’s Death in Relation to Modern Acts of Inhumanity

22.  Cruelty, Modern and Medieval

23.  Catholic Anti-Clericalism

24.  Catholicism not yet Catholic Enough

25.  The Law of Change is the Law of God

26.  Credulity, Modern and Medieval

27.  Toleration, Modern and Medieval

28.  Variability of Toleration

29.  The Conflict between Genius and Discipline

30.  Joan as Theocrat

31.  Unbroken Success Essential in Theocracy

32.  Modern Distortions of Joan's History

33.  History always Out of Date

34.  The Real Joan not Marvellous Enough for Us

Joan's burning at the stake was "just as dozens of less interesting heretics were burnt in her time." Shaw then cites several examples of inhumane and cruel punishments being practiced today. And even though the medieval Church would not tolerate Joan's individualism, the modern world will not tolerate a person who denounces the authority of whoever happens to be in power. The world today is no closer to accepting a genius — or a saint — than was Joan's world. Joan, had she not been captured and burned, would probably have driven the English out of France, and then she would have retired quietly to her country home. However, "the real Joan [has never been] marvelous enough for us," and, therefore, writers have often altered the facts of her life for their own purposes.

D – Sections 35 – 41: The Nature of Historical Drama and Saint Joan viewed as a Tragedy

35.  The Stage Limits of Historical Representation

36.  A Void in the Elizabethan Drama

37.  Tragedy, not Melodrama

38.  The Inevitable Flatteries of Tragedy

39.  Some Well-meant Proposals for the Improvement of the Play

40.  The Epilogue

41.  To the Critics, lest they should feel Ignored

The problems and the "stage limits" of writing a historical play are numerous. Shaw compares Shakespeare's methods and efforts of writing historical dramas with his own. Actually, Shakespeare never attempted to deal with the larger forces of the law and religion and patriotism that cause people to act as they do. Shaw has one advantage over other, earlier writers: He is, chronologically, further away and, therefore, is able to have a more complete view of the Middle Ages. Shaw also maintains that his play is a tragedy, not a melodrama; there are no villains in Saint Joan, only characters caught in their historical period. Likewise, the Epilogue is necessary even though it is not historical. If the play showed Joan burned at the stake, then an Epilogue is needed to show her canonized and, more important, to present a balance between "the tragedy of her execution" and "the comedy of the attempts of posterity to make amends."

SUMMARY AND ANALYSIS

SCENE I

The scene takes place in the spring of the year 1429 A.D. in the castle of Captain Robert de Baudricourt, a "handsome and physically energetic" man with "no will of his own." Sir Robert is blustering about because there are no eggs. His steward maintains that it is an "act of God" and that the hens will not lay because "there is a spell on us: we are bewitched . . . as long as The Maid is at the door." Sir Robert is thunderstruck that The Maid from Lorraine is still outside because he dismissed her two days ago, but we hear that she will not leave ("she is so positive") until Sir Robert grants her an interview. In a blustering manner, he goes to the window and orders her to come up.

When Joan enters, she is seen to be a sixteen- or seventeen-year-old able-bodied country girl. She immediately informs Sir Robert that he is ordered to give her a horse, armor, and some soldiers, and that he must send her to the Dauphin. Sir Robert is offended that anyone would dare to give him orders, and he is astonished to find out that the "lord" who sent the orders is the "Lord of Heaven." He immediately assumes that the girl is mad. She then tells him exactly the costs of the armor and the horses and that she will not need many soldiers because the Dauphin will provide her with enough soldiers to "raise the siege of Orleans." The voices of Saints Catherine and Margaret have spoken to her and told her that this is to be so. Furthermore, she lets Sir Robert know that some of his noblemen, such as Bertrand de Poulengey (Polly) is anxious to go with her. Hearing this, Sir Robert dismisses The Maid and sends for "Polly."

Sir Robert first chastises Polly about a possible sexual liaison, but he is completely assured that nothing of the sort exists. Nevertheless, The Maid, states Sir Robert, is a "country girl," a "bourgeoise," and is apparently mad. Poulengey, however, reviews the military position: The English (along with their French allies, the Burgundians) hold over half of France; the Dauphin is trapped "like a rat in a corner" and does nothing; even The Bastard (Dunois) cannot save Orleans; thus, what is needed is a miracle: As Poulengey says, "We want a few mad people now. See where the sane ones have landed us!" When Poulengey volunteers to pay for the horse, Sir Robert begins to waver and thus sends once more for The Maid.

When questioned, Joan maintains that she is following the instructions of her "voices" (which she will not further discuss) which tell her that the English "are only men" and that they must be forced to return to "their own country and their own language." She asserts that Sir Robert will live to see the day "when there will not be an English soldier on the soil of France" and when there will be one king — "God's French one."

Sir Robert is finally convinced; he believes that the troops and, ultimately, the Dauphin "might swallow" Joan's conviction and her dedication; maybe even the Dauphin might take courage from Joan's determination. At least, it is worth a try. He thus orders Joan to go to Chinon under Poulengey's escort; she is given a soldier's armor, and she dashes off ecstatically. Sir Robert then admits that "There is something about her." The scene ends with the hens "laying like mad."

Analysis

In the opening scene, some very important aspects of Joan's character are revealed. First, she is seen as a strong-willed person who goes straight to the heart of matters. In contrast, Sir Robert de Baudricourt is described as a person "with no will of his own"; thus, this opening scene shows Joan being able to firmly assert her own will in a direct, forthright, and candid manner. In other words, Joan is an iron-willed woman who very easily dominates Sir Robert, who is seen as a man of many doubts and no strong convictions. As the Steward says of Joan: "Sir, she is so positive." Second, immediately after Joan speaks of her mission as being from God, Sir Robert immediately declares her to be mad. Thus, until her death, the matter of Joan's voices are connected with her sanity and will, of course, become the instrument of her death at the stake. Furthermore, Joan's seeming connection with the supernatural is seen in a rather comic (melodramatic) use of Sir Robert's hens not laying eggs until The Maid has her way. Also, in the discussion between Sir Robert and Polly, we are told that sex has no part in The Maid's demeanor. Since many of Joan's detractors have insinuated a sexual attraction and since, later on, Joan is accused of sexual perversion by wearing men's clothes, Shaw immediately let us know that his Joan does not rely upon sex for her basic appeal. In contrast, Shaw's Joan is essentially asexual throughout the drama.

The subject of miracles is also introduced. A saint is one who is most often associated with a miracle of some sort, and when the situation in France is evaluated, then only a miracle can save France. But, again, the question of Joan's sanity is raised. The irony here is that a saint, by very definition, is not a normal person — a saint is indeed an exceptional (or abnormal) person. Thus, Shaw is very careful to introduce many of his main themes into this first scene. For example, Joan is later to be tried and condemned upon the validity of the "voices" which she hears, and, here, Sir Robert introduces the first skepticism about the voices:

JOAN: . . . you must not talk to me about my voices.

ROBERT: . . . How do you mean? Voices?

JOAN: I hear voices telling me what to do. They come from God.

ROBERT: They come from your imagination.

Consequently, Joan must be abnormal: She is a country girl of seventeen who hears voices which tell her to shed her female clothing and live with and lead an army of men against the powerful English forces. Her duty is, thus, to drive the English out by uniting the French forces which, until now, have lacked discipline, direction, and inspired leadership. It is this very inspiration which will ultimately make Joan so successful — even though later it is often iterated that she could instinctively grasp battle tactics and strategic placements of artillery. At the end of the scene, even Sir Robert takes up the general statement, "There is something about her."

Theatrically, Shaw opens and closes the scene with the melodramatic device of the absurd pseudo-miracle of the eggs. This is ultimately a true comment because most people, once convinced that a person is a saint, will then attribute all sorts of "miracles" to the person.

SCENE II

The scene is set in the antechamber of the throne room of the Dauphin's castle in Chinon. The Archbishop of Rheims and la Trémouille are discussing the huge sums of money that the Dauphin has borrowed from them, and yet the Dauphin is still on the verge of poverty when young Gilles de Rais, better known as Bluebeard, enters and reports that The Maid has had a tremendous effect on the common soldiers; this is confirmed by Captain La Hire, who believes that Joan must be "an angel dressed as a soldier," especially since she has overcome impossible odds even to get to Chinon.

The Dauphin, twenty-six years old, enters with a letter about Joan from Sir Robert de Baudricourt, a letter which is bandied about as the Archbishop and the Chamberlain (la Trémouille) bully and intimidate the Dauphin, refusing to let him see The Maid especially since she isnot a respectable person. After some more arguing, Bluebeard offers a challenge: He will pretend to be the Dauphin, and if The Maid cannot distinguish royalty from common blood, then she is a pretender; if she can, then she must be heaven-sent. They all then argue about the siege of Orleans and why the highly touted, respected, and beloved bastard, Dunois, cannot do anything with his military forces. It is agreed that a miracle is indeed needed. When Bluebeard and the Dauphin leave to prepare for the impersonation, the Archbishop and the Chamberlain discuss the nature of miracles. For the Archbishop, a miracle is any "event which creates faith." Furthermore, the Archbishop asserts that the Church alone must decide what is good for the souls of men: ". . . the Church must . . . nourish their faith by poetry." Thus, when The Maid correctly ferrets out the hidden Dauphin, the Archbishop will know how it is done, but if the others think it is a miracle, then let that be their thrill.

The curtains to the antechamber are drawn, revealing the full depth of the throne room, with various members of the royal court assembled. Joan, dressed as a soldier and with cropped hair, is admitted, and she creates an immediate sense of hilarity among the ladies because of her attire. Joan, however, is not at all embarrassed, and when Bluebeard tries to deceive her, she readily dismisses him and goes into the crowd to discover the Dauphin. She drags him from the crowd and tells him that she has been sent to free France of the English and to crown him king in the Cathedral at Rheims. When the Archbishop is consulted on this matter, he is soon convinced that Joan is indeed pious, and he asks everyone to leave The Maid alone with the Dauphin.

Alone, Charles (the Dauphin) confesses his fright and his miserable condition. The others enjoy fighting. On the contrary, however, Charles is "quiet and sensible," and he doesn't "want to kill people." He simply wishes to be left alone to live peacefully. Joan counters that she will "put courage into thee" even though the Dauphin doesn't want courage; he wants to sleep in a comfortable bed and not live in continual terror of being killed or wounded. Charles wants Joan to mind her own business and let him mind his. Joan, however, gradually begins to instill courage and patriotism in him as she tells him forcefully that she will crown him king in Rheims. In resounding rhetoric, Joan promises him that the English will be defeated and France will become holy and the Dauphin will rule. Suddenly, inspired by Joan's faith and enthusiasm, the Dauphin recalls the members of his court and announces that he has given command of the army to The Maid to do with as she likes. As the Chamberlain moves threateningly forward, asserting that he is the commander of the army, Joan pushes the frightened Dauphin forward. He snaps his finger in the Chamberlain's face as Joan draws her sword, kneels, and cries out: "Who is for God and His Maid? Who is for Orleans with me?" All of the knights draw their swords in support of The Maid as the Archbishop gives a sign of blessing to all gathered here.

Analysis

Again, the "supernatural" aspect of Joan's character is emphasized in the miraculous changes which she has wrought among the common soldiers, even causing the most hardened soldiers to give up their cursing until La Hire believes her to be an "angel dressed as a soldier." The view of the common people toward Joan will never waver, and in the Epilogue, we find out that the common people adored her in spite of the Church's condemnation. One essential objection to Joan is again stated by the Archbishop when he maintains that she is not arespectable woman because "she does not wear women's clothes," and, thus, she is "unwomanly." The issue of Joan's clothes will become central to her trial and will play a significant part in her condemnation. But of larger importance, war has always been the business of men; this is the announced theme of Homer's Iliad and of Virgil's Aeneid, and here, we have a young country girl of seventeen usurping the prerogatives of mature, experienced soldiers, but then, the Dauphin is no "manly" man — that is, he needs someone to order him about, as Joan will do.

When the Archbishop, in discussing miracles, maintains that a miracle is any event which creates faith, he has unintentionally described Joan's entire life and her actions; yet this view is completely overlooked at her trial when all of her accomplishments are debunked.

The first two scenes function as studies in contrast. Whereas Sir Robert de Baudricourt possesses great enthusiasm yet lacks a basic understanding of the nature of martial affairs, the courtiers, on the other hand, have a complete and total perception of what needs to be done, but they have no dedication, no spirit. They are rendered into inertia; they are paralyzed by their own self-interest. This is best seen through the Dauphin, who detests war, who wants to be left alone, and who resents the idea that he was born into kingship. Thus, the fact that Joan can inspire such an insipid person attests to her "miraculous" powers of persuasion and leadership.

Finally, this scene introduces part of the rationale by which Joan is ultimately condemned to the stake. In a theological sense, Joan will ultimately be condemned because she prefers to obey her inner voices rather than obey the authority of the Church. In this scene, the Archbishop introduces the idea that "the Church has to rule for the good of their souls . . . the Church must . . . nourish their faith by poetry." In other words, the individual must always yield to the authority of the Church, and Joan is the epitome of the Protestants who prefer to believe in their own consciences rather than in the Church's authority.

SCENE III

This scene is set on the south bank of the Loire River, near Orleans, about seven weeks later. Dunois, better known as The Bastard, is seen pacing up and down the river bank, calling on the west wind to blow in his direction, for he constantly observes his pennon (the flag on his lance) blowing the wrong way. A page enters, and Dunois immediately inquires as to the whereabouts of The Maid, who suddenly arrives in full armor. Immediately, the west wind stops blowing, but Dunois is too occupied to notice. Upon identifying Dunois as "The Bastard of Orleans," Joan wonders why they are on this side of the river when the English and Orleans are on the other side. She wants to cross the bridge immediately and attack the English forces. Dunois explains that older and wiser military experts say such a tactic simply cannot be done, but Joan dismisses the experts as "fatheads"; she is determined to take immediate, decisive action. When Dunois mentions that her soldiers will not follow her into the mouth of almost certain death, she asserts: "I will not look back to see whether anyone is following me." She then informs Dunois that she will charge the fort and will be the first up the ladder, and she dares him to follow her. Dunois responds that they must sail up river and attack the English from the rear, but, first, they "must wait until God changes the wind." He then asks Joan to go to church and pray for an east wind. They leave to find a church, but, suddenly, the page notices that the wind has changed, and he calls The Maid and The Bastard back. Dunois thinks that God has indeed spoken, and thus he says that if Joan will lead the armies, he will pledge his allegiance to her.

Analysis

In this short scene, Dunois is presented as the darling, romantic hero whose opening speech on the west wind characterizes him as a Soldier Poet. He will make a fitting complement to The Maid, Joan. As a romantic, Dunois thinks that Joan is "in love with war"; earlier, the Archbishop had said that Joan was in love with religion. In reality, Joan is in love with neither; she is simply following her dedication (or her voices). The greatness of Joan is shown in this scene in the simple but moving manner by which she is able to convert such seasoned soldiers as Dunois, who is, of course, the realistic soldier who evaluates the tactical difficulties of the situation before moving into action. Joan, in contrast, moves immediately — by inspiration.

This scene also continues with the miraculous nature of Joan's presence. Here, the miracle involves the changing of the wind. Since Dunois has waited for so long for the wind to change and then, suddenly, realizes that it has reversed itself at the very moment that Joan is about to attack, this is proof enough for Dunois that Joan possesses miraculous powers. Therefore, Joan becomes a force like the west wind; in other words, Joan moves forward toward her goal, unconscious of the larger implications. She is simply "blown" toward victory.

SCENE IV

This scene is set in the English camp, as the nobleman Richard de Beauchamp, Earl of Warwick (called simply Warwick) discusses the recent series of unbelievable French victories with his chaplain, de Stogumber. The defeats can be accounted for only by "witchcraft and sorcery." No simple girl could possibly have defeated the English forces unless she were "an accursed witch." Warwick reveals that he is ready to pay a large ransom for the witch so as to burn her.

A page announces the arrival of the Bishop of Beauvais, Peter Cauchon. After Warwick acknowledges that The Maid has now arranged to have Charles crowned at Rheims and that the English are helpless, Warwick offers his view that The Maid is a sorceress who should be denounced to the Inquisition.

De Stogumber is more adamant in his condemnation, citing the numerous victories which Joan has had over the English and her miraculous survivals on the battlefield. Cauchon is not wholly convinced that the French victories were caused by witchcraft: He subtly suggests that some "little of the credit" be given to French leadership, and he cites examples. However, he agrees that The Maid has supernatural powers, but he attributes these powers to the Devil; the Devil, he says, is employing Joan to strike at the very basis of the Catholic Church: ". . . it is as one of the instruments of that design that . . . this girl is inspired, but diabolically inspired." Thus, Joan is not a witch, but, instead, she is a heretic. Cauchon does not believe her accomplishments (her victories) to be miracles but simply that Joan "has a better head on her shoulders" than do the blustering English generals whom she has defeated. However, it is the duty of the Church to save souls, which Cauchon hopes to do: "The soul of this village girl is of equal value with yours or your king's before the throne of God; and my first duty is to save it."

Cauchon, then, in a long diatribe, explains Joan's condemnation. Joan, he says, totally ignores the Church and, furthermore, presumes to bring messages directly from God; likewise, she, and not the Church, will crown Charles. All of her actions are performed without consulting the Church; in short, she acts as though she were the Church, This is heresy in its worst form, and, Cauchon says, it must be "stamped out, burnt out." Cauchon then catalogues a history of heretics from Mahomet down to Joan — heretics, he says, because they listened to their own personal voices and visions instead of listening to the collected wisdom of the Church. What would happen to the Church if all individuals listened to their own consciences rather than to the Church? Cauchon vows to destroy all such heretics.

Warwick, however, is not impressed by these theological arguments. He is not frightened that Joan might become another Mahomet and create another great schism in the Church; instead, he sees a greater danger, one that involves the very basis of the social structure of all Europe. Joan's views would do away with the feudal hierarchy of the aristocracy, a system in which the king is merely first among his peers; she would, instead, create a system in which the king would be responsible to God, ruling "as God's bailiff" and dismissing the rest of the nobility. Under this system, all of the nobility would have to surrender their lands to the king, who would then present them to God (the Church); thus, the king would be ruled by the Church. In addition, the power of the feudal lords now comes from the allegiance of the common people; Joan's new system of social reform would shift that allegiance from the feudal lord directly to the king, leaving the lords without any power. Interestingly, Cauchon, as a churchman, does not find this idea unacceptable.

Cauchon sees that Warwick is not concerned with Joan's effect on the Church but only with the nobility, yet he listens as Warwick points out that Joan's ideas about the peerage (the nobility) and the Church are, to Warwick, basically identical. In both cases, Warwick says, Joan would do away with any person who stood between the average person and that person's allegiance to his God or to his king: "It is the protest of the individual soul against the interference of priest or peer between the private man and his God." Warwick labels this as "Protestantism." Cauchon then extends the analogy to something which he calls "Nationalism." That is, The Maid is trying to instill a sense of national pride into the common people toward their national origins: "France for the French, England for the English, Italy for the Italians . . . and so forth"; this is contrary to the current state of affairs in which the Church's rule is a universal rule-one realm — one kingdom of Christ — and not several divided nations with different rulers and different allegiances.

De Stogumber has been thoroughly confused by this discussion of "Protestant and Nationalist" and simply says that The Maid rebels against nature (by wearing men's clothes), against the Church (by listening to her voices instead of the Church's), and against God (by aligning herself with Satan in witchcraft). Even though de Stogumber has missed the crux of Warwick's and Couchon's arguments, all agree that The Maid must "die for the people."

Analysis

Shaw once said that Saint Joan, as a drama, begins with this fourth scene and that the early scenes were merely "theater." Shaw's statements, of course, must always be taken both seriously andskeptically. As theater, the first three scenes are absolutely essential to setting up the dramatic conflicts on the most basic level. But with this scene, the more complex drama of ideas is introduced, and the conflicts from here to the end of the drama will be the dramatic confrontations of different ideas.

Basically, in this scene, Shaw is again emphasizing Joan's supernatural tendencies. For de Stogumber (who is called a simpleton because the entire discussion about Protestantism and Nationalism is over his head and the final words of the Bishop is to bless de Stogumber as a simpleton: "Sancta simplicitas!"), the English have been defeated over and over again in battles, and thus he can only assume that their defeats are due to the witchcraft of The Maid. The more people who cry "Witch," and the more often the cry is repeated, then the more often it will be believed without judging the validity of the accusation. And it should be firmly noted that Bishop Cauchon does not believe that Joan is a witch; instead, he believes that Joan is something much more dangerous, theologically — that is, she is a heretic.

In reading a drama of ideas such as Saint Joan, an accurate summary of the action is, in itself, a comment or explanation of the meaning of the play. After all, the essence of this act is found in the philosophical, theological, and sociological debate between the representative of the peerage (Warwick) and the representative of the Church (Cauchon). Thus, their arguments (or the argumentation) between them become the dramatic action of this scene, and it is for this reason that Shaw slyly calls this scene the real beginning of Saint Joan.

To restate the arguments as Shaw presents them: Warwick represents the argument for all of the feudal lords — that is, he, Warwick, is the representative for medieval political and social feudalism. In other words, the feudal system was based upon the common people pledging their total allegiance to their immediate lords and then the lords would, in turn, deal with the king. Joan, however, is espousing a concept that the common people should pledge their allegiance directly to the king, thus threatening the existence of the feudal lords. Thus, Warwick, as the representative of feudalism, wants The Maid destroyed so as to preserve the status quo of the feudal system. In other words, it is either destroy Joan the Maid or have Warwick's social system be destroyed by her.

Likewise, Cauchon is the representative of the Universal Church, and the hierarchy of the Church is on a parallel with that of the feudal lords (in medieval times, they were referred to as the Lords Spiritualand the Lords Temporal). As a bishop in the Church, Cauchon interprets for the common people — that is, he acts as an intercessory between the people and God. If The Maid has her way, then the common people would be able to talk directly to God and would therefore render the Church useless. Furthermore, if The Maid has her way, the common people would begin to give their allegiance to nations — rather than yielding themselves to the Universal Church; once allegiances are split, then the Church loses much of its power.

The irony here is that neither Cauchon nor Warwick is sympathetic for the other's reasons for wanting Joan destroyed, but since Joan represents a threat to both the existence of feudalism and to the authority of the Church, they both agree, separately, that she must be destroyed. On the comic level, de Stogumber simply wants her destroyed without understanding any of the philosophical reasons for the necessity of her death.

SCENE V

This scene is set inside the door of the Cathedral at Rheims, where the Dauphin has just been coronated King Charles VII. Joan is seen kneeling before one of the "stations of the cross." Dunois enters, hoping to bring Joan outside and present her to the masses who are calling for her, but Joan says that she wants Charles, the new king, "to have all the glory." In a discussion between them, Dunois reveals that Joan, while adored by the common soldiers and the masses, does not have many friends at Court. When Joan fails to comprehend the Court's animosity toward her, Dunois explains that she has constantly proven herself superior to important and influential men, and now she, and not the Archbishop, is responsible for crowning Charles; these important personages resent being revealed as incompetent. If this be the case, Joan says, she will return to her farm after she has taken Paris. When Dunois warns her that many would prefer that Paris (that is, the enemy) would take her, Joan explains that it is this type of wickedness which makes her rely on her voices, which gives her the confidence to keep going. Her discussion of her voices tends to unnerve Dunois, who would think that she were crazy were it not for her very sensible and logical reasons for her battle strategy.

Bluebeard and La Hire enter as Charles complains about the weight of his coronation robes and the rancid smell of the holy oil. When he hears that The Maid plans to return home, he is greatly pleased, which, in turn, discourages Joan. As she is talking with the others, she suddenly tells Dunois: "Before I go home, let's take Paris." This deeply distresses and horrifies the king, who wants an immediate treaty andno more fighting. As Joan becomes impatient with the king, the Archbishop enters and tries to restrain Joan's impetuosity. When Joan speaks rather sharply to the Archbishop, he reprimands her for disregarding the authority of the Church and for having clothed herself in the "sin of pride," inviting just punishment for her excessive pride. Joan asserts that her voices are her own authority, and she recalls the many triumphs which she has effected. She asserts simply: "You don't know how to begin a battle, and you don't know how to use your cannons. And I do."

Dunois interrupts to acknowledge that while God was on her side earlier, the time of miracles is now over; it is now time to rely on military experience. Furthermore, Joan never concerns herself with costs, supplies, and manpower. Dunois then points out that if Joan is captured, there is no one who will come forward to ransom or rescue her, that even he himself will not sacrifice one soldier's life for her, but she asserts that France (that is, the Crown) will ransom her. Charles immediately denies this, especially since expenses of this dreadful coronation which she forced on him have taken his last cent. When she puts her trust in the Church to aid her, the Archbishop warns her that "they will drag you through the streets and burn you as a witch," that Peter Cauchon knows his business of convicting a heretic. Joan is dumbfounded. She has acted only as God has instructed her to act; she cannot believe that the Church will not protect her now. When the Archbishop accuses her of being "proud and disobedient," Joan protests, asking how she could be disobedient when she has faithfully obeyed her voices — the voices that "come from God." When the Archbishop asserts that the "voices" are only the "echoes of your own willfulness," Joan simply points out one basic truth: Her voices have always been right, and all of her earthly counsels have always been wrong. The Archbishop ignores this fact and gives her a last warning: If Joan continues to follow her judgment rather than the Church's, she will be disowned by the Church (the Archbishop), by the Crown (King Charles), and by the Army (Dunois): "You will stand alone: absolutely alone."

Joan then confronts her earthly compatriots and plaintively cries out that she has always been alone on this earth — in the same way that France is alone and bleeding, and in the same way that God Himself is alone. She hoped to find friends of God in the court of France because God is a friend of everyone, but she now knows that as the loneliness of God is His strength, so too, shall her loneliness be her strength. In God's name, she says, she now has the strength to confront the enemy until she dies. She will go to the common people who love her and, there, will gain enough strength from their love to comfort her for the hatred which these men of power hold for her; then, if she is indeed burnt at the stake, she will go through the fire to the hearts of the common people forever and ever. She departs, saying: "God be with me."

At first, all are silenced; then Bluebeard remarks that The Maid is "quite impossible." Dunois says that, personally, he would jump into a river fully armored to rescue her, but if she were caught by the enemy in a foolish campaign, he would "leave her to her doom." La Hire, however, is inspired to follow her — even to Hell. The Archbishop is disturbed in his judgment, and Charles wishes only that Joan would be quiet and go home.

Analysis

After Scene Four set up the intellectual ideas and forces working against Joan, Scene Five returns to the personage of Joan herself and presents her at the decisive turning point in her life — her determination to rely upon the authority of her voices rather than accept the authority of the Church and the other earthly advisers or counselors.

In the opening of this scene, we see Joan refusing to accept the accolades of the crowd and, instead, being submissive and praying for guidance. When Dunois speaks of Joan's enemies, we see into the mind of a genius who is unable to comprehend the animosity which others feel toward her — especially since she is simply trying to help them. Like Socrates of ancient Greece who questioned people so as to show them their ignorance and was thus resented and put to death, so Joan cannot understand it when the people whom she has helped now resent her help; even after Dunois explains to Joan that most people do not like to be shown up as being incompetent, she cannot comprehend other people's hatred for her. Joan, in her innocence, has done only what is good for France. But note that even her strongest defender is troubled when Joan speaks of her "voices"; she can only justify the voices because, through them, she is able to give perfectly logical reasons for her many victories. She has proven over and over again to be a better general on the battlefield than is the most experienced professional, but then she states simply, "You don't know how to begin a battle and I do, and you don't know how to use your cannons. And I do." This is a simple statement of fact, but the Archbishop interprets this to be a sin of excessive pride (or the Greekhubris), and the others condemn her for this type of statement. They refuse to acknowledge that Joan has superior military acumen.

Shaw, in emphasizing Joan's sin as being a sin of hubris, as the Archbishop constantly reiterates, seems to be implying that Joan is of the stature of the ancient Greek subjects of tragedy, people such as Oedipus, or Agamemnon, and others. And whereas such great tragic figures as Oedipus and Hamlet had to stand alone against overwhelming odds, thus Joan too knows that she must now stand alone. Her refusal to listen to the earthly counsels (which have always been wrong) and her insistence upon listening to her own private voices (which have always been right) cut her off from France, from the Church, and from the Army. Whereas the Archbishop and others see her as proud and disobedient, yet her pride lies in the fact that she believes absolutely in her voices and in the very common-sensical reality of her own victories. As she told Dunois earlier, her voices come to her as a sort of poetry through the bells of the churches at times when she is silent and receptive to the voices; likewise, they could come to others if only others would also be receptive to them. In this point, Joan is the true mystic, believing that what is mystic to herself is available to everyone — if only they would be receptive.

In her powerful and climactic speech on being alone and on the subject of loneliness itself, Joan realizes that her responsibility is to a higher power than is represented by any of these earthly counselors. As is always the case with the genuine saint, Joan realizes that she is "alone on earth." In asserting her aloneness, Joan has now cut herself off from all of the powers of France, and she must now stand alone, with only the love of the common people to give her strength.

SCENE VI

This scene is set in a great hall arranged for a trial, with a circular table surrounding a rough wooden stool for the prisoner. Approximately nine months have elapsed since Joan's capture, and, as we learn later, Warwick has ransomed Joan from her captors and has turned her over to the ecclesiastical court to be tried for heresy. Warwick, who is forbidden to be present at an ecclesiastical trial, has come to inquire of "Pious Peter" Cauchon about the progress of the trial. The court has already held six public and nine private examinations, and there seems to be no progress. Cauchon introduces Warwick to the Inquisitor (Brother John Lemaitre), a seemingly mild, elderly man, and to the chief prosecutor, Canon John D'Estivet. The Inquisitor informs Warwick that all evidence is in, and they are ready to proceed. Warwick is informed that all that is desired by Joan's judges is to save her soul, but he demands Joan's death as a political necessity; ironically, The Maid herself is her own worst enemy: Every time she speaks, she convicts herself with blasphemies.

As Warwick departs, the court assembles. De Stogumber and Canon de Courcelles protest to the court that their sixty-four meticulously drawn-up charges have been reduced to only twelve indictments. The Inquisitor, backed by Cauchon, explains that the court is not interested in "trumpery issues." The "great main issue" is heresy, and all of the wild, silly accusations about magic serve only to confuse the issues.

At this point, a young priest, Ladvenu, wonders if Joan's heresy is due only to her simplicity. The Inquisitor answers in the longest speech in the drama, asserting that heresy often begins with simple people who are often generous, lovable, humble, and charitable, people who are "saintly simpletons"; heresy, he says, begins when a simple woman rejects her clothes for the dress of a man and continues until this "vain and ignorant person" sets up her own judgment against that of the Church and attempts to interpret God's will, believing always "honestly and sincerely that [her] diabolical inspiration is divine." Furthermore, The Maid is pious and chaste, but "diabolical pride and natural humility are side by side in her." He admonishes her judges that they must avoid being either too cruel or too sympathetic toward her: "Remember only that justice comes first." Cauchon agrees with the Inquisitor, and he reminds the court of the great danger called "Protestantism," in which private individuals set up their own private judgments against the collected wisdom of the Church, thus threatening the "mighty structure of Catholic Christendom."

Joan is brought in, chained by the ankles and showing the strain of the long imprisonment and harsh treatment. She is immediately attacked on some minor points by prosecutor D'Estivet. When Joan balks at swearing to tell the truth once more (for the tenth time), she is threatened with physical torture. After more time is wasted on trifles, Bishop Cauchon then asks Joan the essential question: "Will you submit your case to the inspired interpretation of the Church Militant?" Joan agrees to obey the Church only if it does not ask her to deny the heavenly origin of her voices; furthermore, if the Church bids her to do something contrary to God's command, she cannot consent. This assertion causes extreme consternation among her accusers, who consider it heresy to even think that the Church couldsuggest something contrary to God.

When Ladvenu pleads with Joan to accept the authority of the Church, Joan maintains that she has never disobeyed the Church, only that God must be served first, and she believes herself to be in a state of grace with God. Courcelles wonders if this was so when she stole the Bishop's horse, a silly question which causes disorder in the court. D'Estivet then charges Joan with having "intercourse with evil spirits" and of dressing like a soldier. Joan defends her voices as heavenly voices, and she explains impatiently the necessity of her dress in plain common sense terms: It would be foolish to live among soldiers while dressed as a woman, and, furthermore, in an enemy prison, it would be even more foolhardy to wear petticoats. As Joan continues to make impatient and pert or sarcastic replies, she is reminded that the Executioner is standing directly behind her, a man who confirms that the stake is ready for Joan's immediate burning. Joan finds herself in desperate despair: She is terrified of burning at the stake, but she asserts that her voices promised her that she should not be burnt. Ladvenu and Cauchon use her fears to make her confess that her voices have betrayed her: She finally agrees that her voices have deceived her because "only a fool will walk into a fire"; God would not expect her to go to the stake. Her judges are triumphant and immediately bring her "a solemn recantation of heresy" to sign. De Stogumber interrupts the proceedings and denounces the court, asserting that eight hundred Englishmen wait outside, ready to burn The Maid. When de Stogumber is quieted, Ladvenu reads to Joan the recantation which renounces her voices as false and states that she embraces the Church for bringing her to salvation, and, in addition, that she pledges total allegiance to the authority of the Church. Ladvenu guides her hand to sign the document, and Joan is pronounced free from the danger of excommunication, but because she has sinned most presumptuously, she is sentenced to spend the rest of her life in solitary confinement and perpetual imprisonment, living on only bread and water.

Upon hearing her sentence, Joan immediately denounces the recantation document, dreading imprisonment in a rat-infested hole more than the flames of the stake. She tears her confession to shreds and denounces the assembled court as fools. She cries out that she is not frightened of bread and water, but only of being shut away in darkness, of being denied the light of the sky, the sights of the fields; living in chains forever, she says, is impossible. To keep her from the very forces of life is the counsel of the Devil, for she, she states, is keeping God's counsel. She pronounces the court to be unfit for her to live among them. The Inquisitor and Cauchon immediately pronounce her "a relapsed heretic," and they state that she must be cast out and abandoned. Joan is brutally hurried to the stake, followed by Ladvenu, who will be by her side for her last confession. When the flames can be seen inside, Cauchon says that he wants to stop the burning because of some technical irregularities, but the Inquisitor stops him, explaining that the Church proceeded in perfect order, and it is the English who are guilty of irregularities. This fact might be useful in the future because of the innocence of The Maid. The Inquisitor then explains that Joan was innocent because she understood nothing about the proceedings; she was merely crushed by the Church and the Law.

As the Inquisitor and Cauchon leave to witness the burning, Warwick enters and is soon followed by de Stogumber, who staggers like a demented person to the prisoner's stool and sobs uncontrollably. When asked what the matter is, he blubbers out that he did not know what he was doing and did not know how horrible death by burning was. He is thankful that The Maid asked for a cross because an English soldier was able to give her two sticks tied together for her final consolation. De Stogumber says that he feels that he is damned, and he is admonished to control himself just as Ladvenu enters, carrying a cross which he held for The Maid to see during her last moments of life; he says that he climbed onto the burning pyre, but that Joan sent him back, admonishing him of the danger to himself. Ladvenu cannot understand how Joan could, at such a time, think of the safety of others unless she were with God.

When de Stogumber rushes out to pray among Joan's ashes, Warwick sends Ladvenu to look after the Chaplain. Then, unexpectedly, the Executioner comes to report that the execution is complete. Warwick wants assurance that no relics remain that could be sold; the Executioner, however, reports that Joan's heart would not burn, but that all the rest of her remains are at the bottom of a river. When verbally assured that he has heard the last of The Maid, Warwick, with a wry smile, wonders if he has truly heard the last of Joan of Arc.

Analysis

The very setting of this scene is intensely dramatic. Joan is placed on a rough wooden stool surrounded by her adversaries — with no one to defend her except herself and her innocence; her denial of a defense counsel is a contradiction of modern law, and of particular note here is the fact that all representatives of the Church maintain that she needs no defense because they all want to save her soul; this statement and all like it must be viewed as cruelly ironical and hypocritical because after Joan is convicted, the Inquisitor acknowledges that she was completely innocent. Likewise, the title "saint" in the play's title, as well as Joan's subsequent rehabilitation, puts the audiences completely on Joan's side against the prosecutor. Of course, the Inquisitor knows from the beginning that Joan is innocent. This is Shaw's point. As with Warwick, who knows that Joan has not deliberately plotted to destroy the feudal system, but that her innocent statements are damning and that The Maid must die for political reasons, the Inquisitor also knows that Joan's innocence is more dangerous than any calculated plot against the Church itself.But, if the Church allowed people to follow their own simple consciences and their innocent instincts, feelings that "seemingly" come directly from God, then the entire structure of the Church would be undermined. Joan, in her innocence, has no desire to destroy the Church, but in following the purity of her own voices (that is, her own conscience), she becomes the greatest possible threat to the authority of the Church — for if everyone followed the dictates of their own conscience, then the entire structure of the Church would collapse. Consequently, the beginning of Joan's entire damnation occurs when the Church's representatives ask her if she will forgo her own opinions (her voices) and accept the judgments of the Church as completely authoritative.

The Inquisitor, in his long speech, points out that great heresies occur when simple, innocent people like Joan begin to trust in their own consciences rather than listen to the authority of the Church. The Church can exist only when it has total authority, and it must stamp out any dissent or "Protestantism." The existence of the Church is more important than the life of a simple country maid. If Joan is allowed to live, then other, also innocent country people might begin to trust their own personal judgments and ignore the Church's interpretations and authority. Consequently, Joan must die for the sake of preserving the status quo of the feudal system of the authority of the Church. Anyone, however innocent, must die if that person tries to set up "the private judgment of the single erring mortal against the considered wisdom and experience of the Church." Consequently, as the Inquisitor points out, Joan in her innocence constantly condemns herself, especially in such statements as the following: "In case the Church should bid me to do anything contrary to the command I have from God, I will not consent to it, no matter what it may be." This statement is enough to hang her since she has openly asserted that the Church might indeed suggest something contrary to God, and the further implication is that Joan, a simple maid, can interpret God's message better than can the Church. This is indeed "Protestantism."

Dramatically, Shaw plays off his simple spokesman for truth against his crafty, ambiguous characterizations of the representatives of the Church. For example, the Inquisitor is presented as a kindly old gentleman who professes a deep concern over the personal welfare of The Maid. But behind the Inquisitor's facade is an iron mind which knows that Joan is innocent, that she is not in league with the Devil, and that her failure to intellectually understand the charges will condemn her in spite of her innocence. But like Warwick, the Inquisitor knows that Joan must be sacrificed for the sake of the authority of the Church. Thus, behind the kindly facade is the determined mind of the Executioner. Likewise, the greatest dramatic change occurs in the character of de Stogumber. In earlier scenes, as well as here, de Stogumber is presented as a comic figure. His ferocity in demanding that The Maid be convicted and burnt as a witch is therefore dramatically contrasted to the change in his character after witnessing the actual burning of The Maid; now, his early ferocity and hatred turn inward upon him, and we see him ultimately as a repentant, sobbing hysterical man.

Throughout Joan's testimony, in addition to her common sense, her gentle faith, her innocence, her simplicity, and her transcendent beauty shine through the depressing Inquisition as though it were her saintly halo. Indeed, throughout the entire scene, Joan is seen as a person of great common sense, a person whose answers are so incontrovertible that it makes her questioners seem like fools. Yet even though Joan is right when she tells D'Estivet, "Nobody could be such a fool as to believe" what he has just told her, yet her very answer suggests that she has not the proper respect for the authority of the Church even though the questions of the Church are stupid and foolish. Her explanation about the nature of her dress (one should not dress in feminine finery when one is being guarded by the enemy in a dungeon) depends on basic common sense; yet she is convicted partly on the fact that she refuses to wear fine dresses in her situation. Joan's greatness and the turning point in this scene occur in her defiant act of tearing up her recantation. Here, Joan represents Shaw's dynamic "Life Force" — a force that cannot exist in the confinement of a dungeon hole. For Joan to live without the sky, the church bells, the fields, and, in essence, without freedom is more frightening than burning at the stake. Joan's last act of freedom is to choose death rather than to submit to perpetual imprisonment. And in so choosing death, Joan has set the path for her canonization and her sainthood.

EPILOGUE

The setting in this scene is King Charles' bedchamber, twenty-five years after the last scene. Charles (the former Dauphin) puts aside his book, rings for his servant, and Ladvenu enters, carrying the same cross which he held when The Maid perished at the stake. Now he announces that twenty-five years later, at the court of inquiry for rehabilitation, Joan has been declared innocent of all charges for which she was burned as a heretic. Likewise, her judges have been declared "full of corruption, cozenage, fraud, and malice." Charles, however, is not interested in The Maid, but only in removing the troublesome rumor that he was crowned by a witch and a heretic. Furthermore, he points out that were Joan to return, "they would burn her again within six months . . . so, let The Maid rest." Ladvenu, shocked at this attitude, hastily retreats.

The king again rings for his servant, but the candles go out, and in a flash of lightening, a silhouette is seen and the voice of Joan is heard. She assures Charles that he is dreaming, and she wants to know what has happened in the last twenty-five years. Charles is pleased to report that Joan forced him to become a man; he is now Charles the Victorious, and furthermore, just today, Joan has been vindicated and her judges have been condemned. Joan accepts the information without emotion, saying ironically, "They were as honest a lot of poor fools as ever burned their betters." Charles thinks The Maid should thank him for bringing about justice, but suddenly Peter Cauchon appears between them, contradicting the king. Cauchon complains bitterly of the dishonors done to him: He was excommunicated, and his body was dug up and flung into the sewer — all in order to praise Joan. Cauchon claims that he was "pure of heart" and that he was just, merciful, and faithful. King Charles merely observes that "it is always you good men that do the big mischiefs," whereas he, the king, has simply been serving France. Joan wonders then if the English are really gone, and immediately Dunois, The Bastard, appears to assure Joan that he kept his word: The English are gone. Dunois tells Joan that the French forces won by fighting by Joan's strategies, and he is sorry that he didn't come to her defense and prevent "the priests from burning her."

As the clock strikes, a rough, strange voice is heard "trolling an improvised tune," and a coarse, ruffian-like English soldier appears. He announces that he has come straight from Hell where they give him one day off each year because of one good deed which he has performed. He is about to call it "the silliest thing you ever heard of" when Joan breaks in to explain that this is the soldier who gave her two sticks tied together as a cross when she was about to be burned. The soldier then explains that Hell is not so bad — some "tip top company . . . emperors and popes and kings and all sorts" are to be found there.

Again the door opens, and an old, white-haired priest enters. It is de Stogumber, who has never recovered from witnessing Joan's burning at the stake. He now wanders around aimlessly, exhorting people to be kind to one another. When de Stogumber fails to recognize Joan because he thinks Joan is burnt and dead, the Executioner appears, announcing that Joan is more alive than de Stogumber because Joan's heart would not burn and her spirit is "up and alive everywhere." Warwick then suddenly enters to congratulate Joan on her rehabilitation and explains that the burning was nothing personal, but only a purely political necessity.

Suddenly, a stranger appears, dressed in the fashion of 1920, and therefore eliciting uncontrollable laughter from others for his comic dress. He ignores their frivolous behavior, however, and reads from a recent proclamation that Joan The Maid has now been canonized and elevated to sainthood and that a memorial service to Saint Joan shall be celebrated every thirtieth of May, on the anniversary of her burning. Suddenly, visions of statues of Joan are seen in front of cathedrals, and all kneel to offer Joan praise; then, one by one, each of them tells of how various sectors of society praise her.

Joan interrupts their praise by reminding them that as a saint, she can effect miracles; therefore, she asks them whether or not she should come back to life as a living woman and return to them. This very thought causes immense consternation, and with apologies and excuses, they all state that they prefer that she remain dead. Then they all slip quietly away, leaving her alone with the soldier who gave her the crude cross made of two sticks. As the soldier begins to try to comfort Joan, the stroke of midnight summons him back to Hell. As the rays of white radiant light enfold Joan, she asks God when the world will be ready to receive His saints: "How long, O Lord, how long?"

Analysis

The Epilogue takes place twenty-five years after the main events of the play and is called an Epilogue (and not Scene VII) because it exists in the world of dreams or fantasies, and it projects certain views of Joan after her death and her reactions to these events.

During the twenty-five years, actions have been underway to reverse Joan's conviction, and the scene opens on the day that the reversal has finally been accomplished. Thus, the Epilogue confirms only what the audience has long known. However, the Epilogue is encompassed by a single idea — first, King Charles VII maintains in his opening remarks that were The Maid to return to life, she would be burned again within six months. And the final closing remark of The Maid, after each person has totally rejected the idea of her reappearance, is her question: "How long, O Lord, how long?" — that is, how long will it be before the world will be ready to accept its saints (and its geniuses).

Furthermore, what is not dramatically stated but implied is the reason behind Joan's "rehabilitation." Part of the matter must be accredited to the secular arm of the nation — that is, the Dauphin was crowned by Joan, and now he has become King Charles the Victorious; consequently, it is a sore spot, a blotch on his kinghood that he received his crown from the hands of a convicted witch and a burned heretic. How much, then, the reversal of Joan's conviction was due to political expediency is not solved but, instead, only intimated.

What is also implied in this scene is that in addition to Joan's innocence is the fact that her death could have been avoided. But the world is never willing to accept the distracting aspects of the saint or the genius, and only after that genius is dead does the world realize what it has rejected. Ultimately, Shaw is criticizing his own society for not accepting his own rather radical ideas, ideas that were radical during Shaw's time, but ideas that are now more readily accepted.

As each of the people who once praised Joan for her actions during her life now desert her when she offers to return to earth, we hear the above idea reiterated. Cauchon maintains that Joan is better off dead because, even today, "mortal eyes cannot distinguish the saint from the heretic." The others also find ways of convincing Joan to avoid returning to this world. And, finally, Joan is left alone with the English soldier, ironically the one whom she was left alone with at the stake, and he cannot fully understand her plight and, instead, must return to Hell. Joan, then, is still alone, as she was when she spoke of the loneliness of France and the loneliness of God in Scene Five. The final implication is that the world will never be ready to accept its saints or its geniuses.

QUESTIONS

1. Discuss in detail Shaw's view of Saint Joan. How is his view of her different in its historical context or from the way in which others have portrayed her? Does Shaw aim toward historical accuracy?

2. Once Shaw said that the first three scenes were "just theatre to get you interested — now [with Scene Four] the play begins." Discuss, first of all, what Shaw meant by "just theatre," and then discuss what he meant about Scene Four being the real beginning of the drama.

3. What possible meanings, real and ironic, could Shaw mean by entitling his play Saint Joan? Discuss Shaw's possible views toward saints and miracles and voices.

4. Discuss what is meant by the terms "Protestantism" and "Nationalism," as used by Cauchon and Warwick. How do each of the terms threaten either the Church or the aristocracy?

5. Discuss in detail the function of the Epilogue. Consider the play without the Epilogue and how its absence would change the nature of the play.

Prepared by Jacob Eapen Kunnath