_Chinon, in Touraine. An end of the throne-room in the castle, curtained off to make an antechamber. The Archbishop of Rheims, close on 50, a full-fed political prelate with nothing of the ecclesiastic about him except his imposing bearing, and the Lord Chamberlain, Monseigneur de la Trémouille, a monstrous arrogant wineskin of a man, are waiting for the Dauphin. There is a door in the wall to the right of the two men. It is late in the afternoon on the 8th of March, 1429. The Archbishop stands with dignity whilst the Chamberlain, on his left, fumes about in the worst of tempers._ LA TRÉMOUILLE. What the devil does the Dauphin mean by keeping us waiting like this? I dont know how you have the patience to stand there like a stone idol. THE ARCHBISHOP. You see, I am an archbishop; and an archbishop is a sort of idol. At any rate he has to learn to keep still and suffer fools patiently. Besides, my dear Lord Chamberlain, it is the Dauphin’s royal privilege to keep you waiting, is it not? LA TRÉMOUILLE. Dauphin be damned! saving your reverence. Do you know how much money he owes me. THE ARCHBISHOP. Much more than he owes me, I have no doubt, because you are a much richer man. But I take it he owes you all you could afford to lend him. That is what he owes me. LA TRÉMOUILLE. Twentyseven thousand: that was his last haul. A cool twentyseven thousand! THE ARCHBISHOP. What becomes of it all? He never has a suit of clothes that I would throw to a curate. LA TRÉMOUILLE. He dines on a chicken or a scrap of mutton. He borrows my last penny; and there is nothing to shew for it. [_A page appears in the doorway_]. At last! THE PAGE. No, my lord: it is not His Majesty. Monsieur de Rais is approaching. LA TRÉMOUILLE. Young Bluebeard! Why announce him? THE PAGE. Captain La Hire is with him. Something has happened, I think. _Gilles de Rais, a young man of 25, very smart and self-possessed, and sporting the extravagance of a little curled beard dyed blue at a clean-shaven court, comes in. He is determined to make himself agreeable, but lacks natural joyousness, and is not really pleasant. In fact when he defies the Church some eleven years later he is accused of trying to extract pleasure from horrible cruelties, and hanged. So far, however, there is no shadow of the gallows on him. He advances gaily to the Archbishop. The page withdraws._ BLUEBEARD. Your faithful lamb, Archbishop. Good day, my lord. Do you know what has happened to La Hire? LA TRÉMOUILLE. He has sworn himself into a fit, perhaps. BLUEBEARD. No: just the opposite. Foul Mouthed Frank, the only man in Touraine who could beat him at swearing, was told by a soldier that he shouldnt use such language when he was at the point of death. THE ARCHBISHOP. Nor at any other point. But was Foul Mouthed Frank on the point of death? BLUEBEARD. Yes: he has just fallen into a well and been drowned. La Hire is frightened out of his wits.