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The CBS Radio Workshop dedicated to Man'simagination, The Theater of the Mind.
Tonight, The Eternal Joan The storyof Jean Dark as provided by historians,
novelists, and playwrights of different nationalitiesand points of view, narrated on tape
by Lewis Cronenberger, author, playwrightand critic, and dramatized by Henry E.
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Fritch with Elspeth Eric as Joan aPSI righten Margaret has been pay for
her only saying lood, God done, mercy on her worn the world after
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the wording of the burn her tothe end. Make way, make quay
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was a heretic take away for theCascavanna. Await the native fries Hey,
you see what it says, areaway rod or captain, heretic, relaxed
apostate, I doll it her mercythe eighties. We'll be easy, good
name mad Way. We are burninga Saints. This was the old market
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square in the French city of onthe morning of the thirtieth of May fourteen
thirty one. The occasion was theburning of a young peasant girl not much
past her nineteenth birthday. Her namewas Jeannette. Her family name was Dark,
first without an apostrophe, then withone, after Joan had got her
family a noble we now know heras John Dark, or in the English
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equivalent, Joan of Arc. Joandied of fearful death on that pleasant May
morning, more than five centuries ago. She was tied to a wooden stake,
standing on a pile of kindling andfirewood, and slowly charred. She
had first been excommunicated by her church. We, having seen and weighed all
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there is to see and way,have said and decreed that, in the
simulation of your revelations and deparitions,you have been pernicious, seductive, presumptuous
of light belief, rash superstitious,a witch, a blessphever of God,
a despiser of Him in his sacraments, a prevaricator of the These your actual
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quotations from the official record of thetrial of Joan of Arc before an ecclesiastical
accorded rule, arrying gravely at ourfaith, and by this means having rashly
trespassed against God and the Holy Church. Therefore we denounced she was a rotten
member which must be cast out andgiven over to the secular power. The
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secular power to which Joan was givenover by her own countrymen, that is,
the English Army of occupation did noteven take the trouble to hold a
trial or to make formal charges.Her sentence took less than a minute.
What now, priest, are yougoing to keep us here to dinner?
Take her Jesus? Yes, ofcourse. A kind English soldier broke a
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stick in half and tied it togetherin the form of a cross. Joan
kissed the makeshift emblem and clutched ittightly to her body. A short time
later she was dead. Yet onlytwenty five years later, Joan was cleared
of all the accusations that had beenbrought against her, and she was officially
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declared a saint in nineteen twenty.More than forty thousand statues have been erected
to her in France alone, plusmany others in other lands, including our
own United States. Why thousands ofbooks and plays has been written about her
in various languages. Why here isour own Samuel Clemens. Caesar carried conc
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west far, but he did itwith the trained and confident veterans of Rome,
and he was a trained soldier himself. Napoleon swept away the disciplined armies
of Europe. But he also wasa trained soldier, and he began his
work with Patriot battalions. Inspired bythe miracle working new breath of liberty.
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Joam, a mere child in years, ignorant, unlettered, a poor village
girl, unknown and without influence,found a great nation lying in chains,
helpless and hopeless under an alien domination. Its king was cowed, resigned,
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and preparing to flee the country.And Joan laid hands upon this nation,
this corpse, and it rose andfollowed her. But this point alone is
not enough to explain the universal appealwhich Joan the Maid has had for all
the world, yes, even forthe Marquesas islanders in the Pacific, who
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to this day are convinced that theEnglish ate Joan. Or else why would
they have wanted to roast her.There's little doubt about the bare facts,
since fortunately complete records of Joan's longtrials have come down to us. But
for the touchstones of human understanding,we have to turn to those who have
tried to interpret Joan on the basisof individual insight. Her historians, novelists
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and playwrights of different nationalities and pointsof view, I'll start at the beginning.
It's always nicer at the beginning.I'll begin with my father's house,
when I was still very small.I'm in the meadow now, watching my
sheep. It's the first time Ihear the voices after the evening Angelus.
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That was the voice of Joan herself, describing her first experience with the mystic
powers that controlled the rest of hershort life. The scene is taken from
The Clay the Lark, written byJean Arnui of France and adopted by Lydian
Hellman. I still wear my hairin a thick braid. I'm not thinking
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of anything. I know only thatGod is good, and that He keeps
me pure and safe. In thislittle corner of the earth near Domrim,
this one little piece which has notyet been destroyed by the English invaders.
I live here, happy with myfather, my mother and my brothers.
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Then suddenly someone behind me touched myshoulder. I know very well there is
no one behind me. I turn. There is a great blinding light.
The voice is grave and sweet.I never heard that kind of voice before
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that day. The voice only said, be a good girl, Joan,
and go often to church. Well, I was good and I did go
often to church, so I didn'tunderstand why the voice spoke that way,
and I was frightened, but Ididn't tell anybody. I don't know why.
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Then came the second time. Itwas the noon angelus. A light
came over the sun and was strongerthan the sun. There he was,
I saw him, an angel ina beautiful white robe that must have been
ironed by someone very careful. Hedidn't tell me his name that day,
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but later I found out he wasMonseigneur, the blessed Saint Michael Joan go
to the aid of the King ofFrance and give him back his kingdom.
But Monseigneur, I am only agirl. I don't even know how to
ride a horse. You will gofirst to Monsieur de Beaudracourt. He will
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give you men's clothes and have youtaken to the Dauphin. Saint Catharine.
Saint Margaret will go along to helpyou. The Dauphin, of course,
was Charles, son and presumably legalheir of the last French king, Charles
the sixth. Charles the father wasgenerally regarded as mad, and had signed
a treaty with England disavowing his sonand recognizing Henry the fifth of England as
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his heir. So seated all ofFrance north of the River Loire, which
gave the English justification for their Frenchcampaigns. The Dauphin was weak, yet
this was the man for whose coronationat Rance as Charles the seventh of France,
Joan was to give her life.Her voices had told her that.
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So Joan received her mission, shedidn't leave her native doray Me right away.
She was seventeen before she felt readyto set out into the unknown world
to help rescue France. For apoetic view of Joan's farewell to her beloved
countryside, there is nobody better toturn to than that German romanticist to end
all romanticists, Friedrich Schiller and hisplay The Maid of Orleans. Farewell ye
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mountains, her beloved glades, loneand peaceful valleys, Fare you well through
you, Johannah. Nevermore maystray.Johannah goes and there returns again. Such
is to me the spirit's high behestto Gall's heroic suns, deliver in springs,
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relieve beleaguered ras and crown ni king, and so instructed by a power
higher than any earthly authority. Jeannettereluctantly left her childhood home and do re
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me to become the maid. Afew months later, in Rance, Jones
saw her great dream come true theDauphin. Her Dauphin was anointed with the
heaven Saint Oil and formerly crowned KingCharles the seventh of France. When Joan
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left home, Papa Jacques and MamaIsabel knew only that their daughter was going
to visit her favorite uncle in thevillage of Bury but Biri was near Vokouler,
the residence of Messire Robert de Baudricour, whom the archangel had directed Joan
to see as the first step inher mission. The actual meeting, when
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it took place, may well havebeen one of the most hilarious interviews of
all time. Here is the versionof Bernard Shaw, whose place Saint Joan
is generally regarded as the classic interpretationof Joan's character and behavior. The loud
voice is that of the captain SireRobert de Baudricourt, but the first voice
is that of his unhappy steward freshout of eggs, Sarah, I tell
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you there are no eggs. Therewill be none, not if you kill
me for it, as long asthe maid is at the door. The
maid? What maid? What areyou talking about? The girl from Lorraine?
Sir, from donry me thirty thousandthunders. I told you to throw
her out. You have fifty menat arms and a dozen lumps of able
bodied servants to carry out my orders. Are they afraid of her? She
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is so positive, sir, positive? Now see here, I'm going to
throw you downstairs. No, sir, please well stop me by being positive.
It's quite easy. Any slot ofa girl can do us, sir,
Sir, you cannot get rid ofher by throwing me out. You
see, sir, you are muchmore positive than I am. But so
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is she. Youll parcel of cursYou are afraid of her? No,
sir, we are afraid of you. But she puts courage into it.
She really doesn't seem afraid of anything. Perhaps you could frighten her, sir.
Perhaps where is she now? Downin the courtyard, sir talking to
the soldiers as usual? He shalltalk to me a bit. Hello,
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you there, come up here,you soldiers, show it away and shove
along quick. She wants to goand be a soldier herself. She wants
you to give her soldiers clothes,armor, Sir, and a soldier.
Good morning, captain, squire.Captain, you were to give me a
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horse and armor and some soldiers andsend me to the Dauphin. Those are
your orders from my lord. Ordersfrom your lord. And who may your
lord be? Go back to himand tell him that I am neither duke
nor peer at his orders. Iam squire of Vrodrical, and I take
no orders except from the key.Yes, all right, my lord is
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the king of heaven. Why thegirl's mad? They all say, I'm
mad till I talk to him,Squire. But you will see that it
is the will of God that youwere to do what he has put in
my mind. It is the willof God that I shall send you back
to your father with orders to putyou under lock and key and thrash the
madness out of you. You thinkyou will, Squire, but you'll find
it all coming quite different. Yousaid you would not see me, but
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here I am. Now listen tome. I am going to assert myself.
Please do, squire. The horsewill cost sixteen francs. It's a
good deal of money. But Ican save it on the armor. I
shall not want many soldiers. TheDauphin will give me all I need to
raise the siege of Orlians, toraise the siege of Ollio. Yes,
that is what God is sending meto do. Well, I am damned,
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no, squire, God is verymerciful. You will go to paradise
and your name will be remembered asmy first helper. Joan got her horse,
her equipment, and her escort,but when her small party arrived at
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Chenow after a hard ride through threehundred and fifty miles of winter landscape,
she still faced her main problem.How was she, a poor, illiterate
country girl going to get an audiencewith the Dauphin himself. News of her
arrival at Chinaw finally reached even theears of the Dauphin, and Joan was,
in the end admitted to the court. But to make sure that she
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was really divinely inspired, Charles andhis courtiers decided to play a trick on
her. Some one else would siton the throne and pretend to be the
Dauphint, while Charles himself would hidein the crowd of attendants, making himself
inconspicuous. Here are two versions ofwhat happened when Joan entered the royal hall
the Chateau at Cheno. The firstis that of Schiller. As Joan enters,
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she surveys the resplendent hall, thenlooks up at the army commander Dunois,
who in this version is impersonating theDauphinant on his throne. Dunoir welcomes
her, Thou the wondrous me,Dunna Voorleon, Thou wilt tempt Thy God
this place abandoned, which becomes THEE, not to this more mighty one.
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The maid is sent. John walksfirmly towards the Dauphin, who was peering
from behind the back of a knight. She kneels before him. Charles is
understandably surprised. Maiden, Thou ne'erestseen my face before? Whence hast thou
this knowledge THEE I saw when nonebesides say God in Heaven saw THEE bethink
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THEE Dauphin in the bygone night,when all around lay buried in deep sleep,
Thou, from thy couch didst riseand offer up an earnest prayer to
God. Disclose to me my prayer, and I shall doubt no more that
God inspired THEE. Thou didst praythat if there were appended in this crown
unjust possession, or if heavy guiltoccasioned this most lamentable war, God would
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accept THEE as a sacrifice. Havemercy on thy people, and pour forth
upon thy head the chalice of hiswrath, Who Thou mighty one. Whence
comest thou, shall I indeed withstandmine enemies, Frince, I will lay
submissive at thy feet, and leanssayest thou wilt not be surrendered. The
loire shall sooner run its waters back? Shall I in triumphant rass I,
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through ten thousand foes, will leadthee. In the modern aneu a Hellmann
play, the Dauphin is no storybook king. As the scene opens,
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Charles is lolling indolently on his throne, playing with one of those cup and
ball toys that still delight children today. Enter the Archbishop of Rance.
Archbishop, you have arrived just intime. I am on the point of
governing. There is no time forgest your majesty. We are faced with
a dangerous problem of this peasant girl. The people are in love with her,
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They're convinced that God has sent herto you and that she alone can
save France. They think she worksmiracles. I have sympathy for them.
They are as desperate as I am. As for this girl, I have
no curiosity about her. I knowtoo many people as it is, and
a messenger from God doesn't sound veryamusing. But I want to be a
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good king and please my people.Therefore I shall see this girl. I
think I might like to play atrick on her. Let's put a page
upon the throne. Let's clothe himin the royal doublet with the fewest patches.
He'll look better than I do,and let us enjoy the sight of
God's envoy pleading her cause to apage boy. And so, when John
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timidly enters the throne room, it'sa young court attendant who is impersonating the
Dauphin. She sees through the deception, however, just as quickly as she
did in the case of Dunois inSchiller's play. She surveys the crowd and
walks straight to Charles, who triesto run from her. What do you
want, Noboldolphin, I am Joan. The maid the King of Heaven has
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sent me to tell you that youmust be anointed and crowned in the city
of Rance. Well, well thatis splendid, mademoiselle. But Ras is
in the hands of the English,as far as I know. How shall
we get there? We will fightour way there, noble Dolphin. First
we will take all on and thenwe will walk to rans. God told
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me, Noble Dophin, you haven'tcome here to kill me. No,
no, of course not. Youhave an honest face. I've lived so
long with these pirates that I've almostforgotten what an honest face looks like.
Are there many people who have honestfaces? Many? Sir, No,
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I never see them. All right, start boring me. Tell me that
I ought to be a great king? Yes, johns Then John gets what
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she wants, her army, herappointment, and a dazzling white suit of
armor especially made for her. John'seffect upon the English troops, who had
been just about invincible until she appeared, is described by Schuler the voices of
those of English soldiers, except forthe rather heartrending lament of their commander to
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John Talbot, the Maitan in thecamp impossibly cannot be How comes she in
the camp? Why for? Theearth. The devil aid enough, why
well dead, then they heed me? Not? They stay off with my
call. The sacred bones of disciplineare loose, cannot rally eve the smallest
troop, who wish she them?The irresistible, the great inspiring goddess,
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who hath turned at once the titlebattle and transformed the lion's bold, a
herd of timid deer, A womansnatched from me. All marshal fame and
mangle coms th general fight well,as we know. The army with which
Joan took the field did liberate Orleans, and within a few months had cleared
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the road to Rance so that theDauphin could be properly consecrated King of France.
Joan's army then turned to liberate Paris, but the siege of Paris was
called off. Joan, wounded forthe third time in a year, was
captured some months later by Burgundian soldiers, who were then allied with the English.
The Burgundian sold her to the Englishcommand for ten thousand French pounds,
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a sum normally paid only for thehighest nobles. The English, in turn
handed Joan over to a French ecclesiasticalcourt convened in English occupied Ruon for trial
on charges of sorcery, witchcraft,or anything else that would lead to excommunication.
The idea was that once Joan hadbeen convicted on any such charge by
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her own countrymen, the English wouldbe free to condemn an executor for the
damage she had caused them. Andthat's the way it worked out. Joan,
commonly called the Maid, having beencaptured within our diocese of Beauvay,
and having been surrendered, despatched,given and delivered to us as a person
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vehemently suspected of hensy. After weeksof badgering, Joan, exhausted and terrified
of death by fire, finally puther mark to a paper which she was
unable to read, admitting all thesins charged against her and forswearing them for
the future. She even resumed femaleclothing for a short time, But when
she found out that her promise toquit ale would mean only life imprisonment on
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a diet of bread and water,the bread of sorrow and the water of
affliction, as the judges put it, she decided that she preferred a swifter
death. However horrible. Bernard Shawdescribes her so called relapse like this.
They told me. You were fools. You promised me my life, but
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you lied. You think that lifeis nothing but not being stone dead.
It is not the bread and water. I fear. Bread has no sorrow
for me, and water no affliction. But to shut me from the light
of the sky and the sight ofthe fields and flowers, to chain my
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feet, to make me breathe foul, damp darkness, and keep me from
everything that brings me back to thelove of God. I could do without
my war horse. I could dragabout in a skirt. I could let
the banners and the trumpets, andthe knights and soldiers pass me and leave
me behind as they leave the otherwomen. If only I could still hear
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the wind and the trees, thelocks and the sunshine, the young lambs
crying through the healthy frost, andthe blessed church bells. But without these
things I cannot live what I am. I will not denounce, but I
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have done, I will not deny, And we still have from Joan what
is perhaps the most touching answer evergiven to a life and death question in
the history of inquisition. Joan,do you now believe yourself to be in
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a state of grace? If Iam not. May God put me there?
If I am, may God sokeep me. That was Joan of
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Arc. Did anyone ever understand her? Do we understand her today? Perhaps?
Sean and Nui said it best.You cannot explain Joan anymore than you
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can explain the tiniest flower growing thewayside. There's just a little living flower
that has always known, ever sinceit was a microscopic seed, how many
petals it would have and how bigthey would grow, exactly how blue its
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blue would be, and how itsdelicate scent would be compounded. There is
just the phenomenon of Joan, asthere is the phenomenon of a daisy,
or the sky or a bird.What pretentious creatures men are? If that
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is not enough for them? Youhave been listening to the CBS Radio Workshop
and The Eternal Joan, a treatmentof the Joan of Art story written by
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Henry E. Fritch with elspeth Ericas Joan and Lewis Cronenberger, drama critic
for Time Magazine as tape narrator.The Eternal Joan was produced and directed by
Paul Roberts. Music composed and conductedby Alexander Steinert included into night's cast were
Alan Hewitt as Boudrecour and Jack Manningas the Dauphin. Also heard were John
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Gibson, Daniel Loco, Bob Dryden, Louis van Ruten, Roger Di coven
Ed, Prentiss, Guy Repp,Ellen Muir, Gladys Holland and Ruth Tobin.
This is Bob Hyde inviting you tojoin us next week when from Hollywood
we'll present a portrait of Paris,a word picture of the French capital,
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recorded by David Schoenbrunn, chief ofthe Paris Bureau of CBS News America listens
most to the CBS Radio network.