THE EXECUTIONER [_stepping from behind the bed curtains on Charles’s right, the bed being between them_] She is more alive than you, old man. Her heart would not burn; and it would not drown. I was a master at my craft: better than the master of Paris, better than the master of Toulouse; but I could not kill The Maid. She is up and alive everywhere. THE EARL OF WARWICK [_sallying from the bed curtains on the other side, and coming to Joan’s left hand_] Madame: my congratulations on your rehabilitation. I feel that I owe you an apology. JOAN. Oh, please dont mention it. WARWICK [_pleasantly_] The burning was purely political. There was no personal feeling against you, I assure you. JOAN. I bear no malice, my lord. WARWICK. Just so. Very kind of you to meet me in that way: a touch of true breeding. But I must insist on apologizing very amply. The truth is, these political necessities sometimes turn out to be political mistakes; and this one was a veritable howler; for your spirit conquered us, madam, in spite of our faggots. History will remember me for your sake, though the incidents of the connection were perhaps a little unfortunate. JOAN. Ay, perhaps just a little, you funny man. WARWICK. Still, when they make you a saint, you will owe your halo to me, just as this lucky monarch owes his crown to you. JOAN [_turning from him_] I shall owe nothing to any man: I owe everything to the spirit of God that was within me. But fancy me a saint! What would St Catherine and St Margaret say if the farm girl was cocked up beside them! _A clerical-looking gentleman in black frockcoat and trousers, and tall hat, in the fashion of the year 1920, suddenly appears before them in the corner on their right. They all stare at him. Then they burst into uncontrollable laughter._ THE GENTLEMAN. Why this mirth, gentlemen? WARWICK. I congratulate you on having invented a most extraordinarily comic dress. THE GENTLEMAN. I do not understand. You are all in fancy dress: I am properly dressed. DUNOIS. All dress is fancy dress, is it not, except our natural skins? THE GENTLEMAN. Pardon me: I am here on serious business, and cannot engage in frivolous discussions. [_He takes out a paper, and assumes a dry official manner_]. I am sent to announce to you that Joan of Arc, formerly known as The Maid, having been the subject of an inquiry instituted by the Bishop of Orleans— JOAN [_interrupting_] Ah! They remember me still in Orleans. THE GENTLEMAN [_emphatically, to mark his indignation at the interruption_]—by the Bishop of Orleans into the claim of the said Joan of Arc to be canonized as a saint— JOAN [_again interrupting_] But I never made any such claim. THE GENTLEMAN [_as before_]—the Church has examined the claim exhaustively in the usual course, and, having admitted the said Joan successively to the ranks of Venerable and Blessed,— JOAN [_chuckling_] Me venerable!