Chapter II: Aloyse of Castelnau

Charles VII--the "gentle Dauphin" of France and object of the fervent adoration of Joan, who now for several days lay sequestered in the tower of Coudray--soon tired of the interview to which he had summoned his minister, and sought recreation elsewhere. He found it in the company of his mistress, Aloyse of Castelnau. Indolently stretched upon a cushion at her feet he chatted with her. Frail and slight of stature, the prince, although barely twenty-three years of age, was pale, worn-out and unnerved by excesses. Aloyse, on the other hand, in the full splendor of her beauty, soon found occasion to answer a joke of her royal lover on the subject of Joan the Maid. She said smiling:

"Fie, Charles! Fie, you libertine! To hold such language about an inspired virgin who wishes to restore to you the crown of France!"

"If it is to be that way, the ways of the Lord are strange and inscrutable, as our tonsured friends say. To have the crown and kingdom of France turn upon the maidenhood, upon the virginity of a cowherd!"

"Are you still at it?" responded Aloyse, interrupting Charles. "I guess your villainous thoughts regarding the poor girl."

"I ask myself, how could the idea have germinated in the mind of that poor girl of restoring my crown to me!"

"You display very little concern about your kingdom!"

"On the contrary--I think a good deal of my crown. It is the cares of royalty that cause me to speak in that way, my beautiful mistress."

"If the English take Orleans, the key of Touraine and Poitou, and they then invade those provinces, what will then be left to you?"

"You, my charmer! And if I must make the confession, it has often occurred to me that my great-grandfather, King John II, of pious memory, must have recorded among the happy days of his life the one on which he lost the battle of Poitiers--"

"The day when your great-grandfather, taken prisoner by the English, was transported to their own country? You must be crazy, my dear Charles!"

"Without any doubt, I am crazy; but crazy with love for you, my Aloyse! But let us come back to King John, made prisoner at the battle of Poitiers. He is taken to England. He is received with chivalrous courtesy and unheard-of magnificence. A sumptuous palace is assigned to him for prison, and he is invited out to exquisite banquets. The handsomest girls of England are charged to watch him. The forests that are at his disposal teem with game; the fields are vast; the rivers limpid. Thus his time is divided between love, play, the table, fishing, hunting--until he dies of indigestion. While King John was thus peaceably enjoying life in England, what was his son doing, the unhappy Charles V? Driven out of Paris by a vile populace that rose in rebellion at the voice of Marcel, the unhappy Charles the Wise, as he was called, frightened out of his senses by the ferocities of the Jacquerie, beset by the bustle of royalty, broken with the fatigues of war, ever on horseback, ever sleeping on the hard ground, and never sleeping with both eyes shut, living on poor fare and on poorer love, rushing hither and thither over hill and dale, was ever out of breath running after his crown! By the glories of Easter! Do you call that 'wisdom'?"

"He at least had the glory of re-conquering his crown, and indulged the pleasure of executing his enemies."

"Oh, I well understand the happiness of revenge. I abominate those insolent Parisians, those chasers of kings. If I had that accursed town in my power, I would order the most inveterate Burgundians to be hanged. But I would be careful not to establish my residence there, out of fear of fresh seditions. Charles V revenged himself; he reigned, but at the price of what anxieties, torments and incessant civil wars! While his father, King John, was all the while living happily in England, surrounded by abundance and love! To want this, to oppose that in matters of public concern, are intellectual labors that I leave to the Sire of La Tremouille and his fellows of the royal council to rack their brains over. Without alarming myself over the future, my Aloyse, I allow the current to carry me, rocked in your arms. Whatever may happen, I laugh! Long live love!"

"Oh, you do not speak like a King."

"A plague upon royalty! A burning crown of thorns! I'd rather have your white hands weave me a chaplet of myrtle, and fill my cup. If they do, I would gladly see the debris of my throne crumble and vanish. When the English will have conquered the provinces that still are left to me, they will take care of me as they did of my predecessor, King John! So, then, long live wine, idleness and love! If, on the contrary, in His ill will towards me, the Lord has stirred up this raging Maid, who is obstinately set upon restoring to me the crown of my fathers with all its escort of uneasiness, bluster and troubles--let it be! Let my fate be fulfilled! But, I swear to God, I shall budge not one step to insure the success of the warrior maid!"

"Then you have no faith in the inspiration of Joan, the Maid?"

"I have faith in your pretty eyes, for the reason that they keep all their promises; and I have none in the shepherdess. Were it not that I am daily beset with the outcry of people who have the royalty more at heart than I myself, I long ago would have sent her back to her muttons. But the Sire of La Tremouille himself inclines to yielding to these clamors. Some insist on seeing in Joan a divine instrument; others hold that in the desperate state of things we should try to profit by the influence that the Maid may exert over the minds of the soldiers. I am, accordingly, compelled to receive her at court to-day. But the Sire of La Tremouille is of the opinion that a council of matrons should first decide whether the pretty girl really possesses the magic charm with the aid of which I am to reconquer my kingdom."

"Come, Charles! A truce to your villainous jokes!"

"If Diana were your patron you could not be more intractable, my Aloyse! I do not recognize you to-day."

"Ah, I have one more proof of how indolent you are, how cowardly and how neglectful of your own honor. How often have not I said to you: Place yourself at the head of your troops, who are indignant at seeing the King refusing to share their hardships! Take a bold resolve; don your cuirass and go to battle!"

"A pest! My Amazon, you speak at ease of the hardships and perils of war. I am no Caesar--that much is certain!"

"Shameless heart! Miserable coward!"

"I wish to live to love you."

"You make me blush with shame!"

"You blush at being the mistress of the poor 'King of Bourges' as I am called--at reigning over so sorry a kingdom! You would like to reign over the kingdom of all France!"

"Am I wrong in wishing that you should reign gloriously? I wish you were more ambitious."

"Oh, my beloved! Would I, if I again were to become King of France, find the satin of your skin whiter and smoother? wine to taste better? or idleness more agreeable?"

"But glory! Glory!"

"Vanity! Vanity! I never have envied any glory other than that of the great King Solomon, of that valorous hero of six hundred concubines and more than four hundred legitimate wives! But unable to reach the heights of that amorous potentate, I content myself with aspiring after the destiny of King John, my great-grandfather."

"Shame upon you, Charles! Such sentiments are disgraceful, and will prevent a single captain from taking the field for you."

"Oh, those valiant captains who combat my enemies have no thought to my interests. They fight at the head of companies of mercenaries in order to pillage the populace and to recover their own seigniories that have fallen into the hands of the English."

The belle Aloyse was about to answer Charles VII when George of La Tremouille entered the royal apartment after repeatedly knocking at the door. The minister said:

"Sire, everything is ready for the reception of Joan. We await your orders."

"Let us go and receive the Maid! I greatly approve your idea of putting the inspired girl to the test, and finding out if she can pick me out among the courtiers, while Trans will play the role of King. The comedy is to start."