ROBERT [_feeling that he has lost ground, brings down his two fists squarely on the table, and inflates his chest imposingly to cure the unwelcome and only too familiar sensation_] Now listen to me. I am going to assert myself. JOAN [_busily_] Please do, squire. The horse will cost sixteen francs. It is a good deal of money; but I can save it on the armor. I can find a soldier’s armor that will fit me well enough: I am very hardy; and I do not need beautiful armor made to my measure like you wear. I shall not want many soldiers: the Dauphin will give me all I need to raise the siege of Orleans. ROBERT [_flabbergasted_] To raise the siege of Orleans! JOAN [_simply_] Yes, squire: that is what God is sending me to do. Three men will be enough for you to send with me if they are good men and gentle to me. They have promised to come with me. Polly and Jack and— ROBERT. Polly!! You impudent baggage, do you dare call squire Bertrand de Poulengey Polly to my face? JOAN. His friends call him so, squire: I did not know he had any other name. Jack— ROBERT. That is Monsieur John of Metz, I suppose? JOAN. Yes, squire. Jack will come willingly: he is a very kind gentleman, and gives me money to give to the poor. I think John Godsave will come, and Dick the Archer, and their servants John of Honecourt and Julian. There will be no trouble for you, squire: I have arranged it all: you have only to give the order. ROBERT [_contemplating her in a stupor of amazement_] Well, I am damned! JOAN [_with muffled sweetness_] No, squire: God is very merciful; and the blessed saints Catherine and Margaret, who speak to me every day [_he gapes_], will intercede for you. You will go to paradise; and your name will be remembered for ever as my first helper. ROBERT [_to the steward, still much bothered, but changing his tone as he pursues a new clue_] Is this true about Monsieur de Poulengey? STEWARD [_eagerly_] Yes, sir, and about Monsieur de Metz too. They both want to go with her. ROBERT [_thoughtful_] Mf! [_He goes to the window, and shouts into the courtyard_] Hallo! You there: send Monsieur de Poulengey to me, will you? [_He turns to Joan_]. Get out; and wait in the yard. JOAN [_smiling brightly at him_] Right, squire. [_She goes out_]. ROBERT [_to the steward_] Go with her, you, you dithering imbecile. Stay within call; and keep your eye on her. I shall have her up here again. STEWARD. Do so in God’s name, sir. Think of those hens, the best layers in Champagne; and— ROBERT. Think of my boot; and take your backside out of reach of it.