(Calling to GUARDS.) Assemble King James’s escort.

(To JAMES.) You will swear allegiance to my son.

My son. Little Prince Henry. Heir to the thrones of England and France. He’s still chewing his own fingers and burping milk but he is most definitely your future King, James.

You’ll send him the gold Scotland owes and you’ll bring no war against him, ever. Now kneel.

JAMES. Are you dying?

HENRY. I just lost a battle, didn’t I? Bit of a giveaway when you think about it.

And now we all know. You can’t even win a fight with a dying man. So shut up and do exactly what I say or I’ll fucking haunt you.

JAMES. Why didn’t you tell me!?

HENRY. I tried. I don’t think you were paying proper attention, James.

GUARD. Your escort stands ready, James Stewart.

HENRY. It’s time. There’s no more time. And everything has come to ruin. Just do what I told you. You’re right. They’ve seen the truth now.

Their King hasn’t got the strength of a blind kitten. Keep reminding them that you’re ours, you are England. The fear of my ghost might keep them off you for a while.

JAMES. I know how to be a king.

HENRY. Yes, you’ve had eighteen years to study that, haven’t you? You can fake it for a while if you put your mind to it. If you remember the education I gave you here today.

HENRY staggers.

Oh Christ, the fire’s in my gut. It’s burning me already.

JAMES tries to support him.

Get off me. I can stand. They can’t see me fall. Not yet.

JAMES starts to exit.

Will you light a candle for me?

JAMES. Yes.

HENRY. Thank you. What are you waiting for?… Fuck off.

HENRY collapses.

GUARDS run and carry him off.

A Castle in England, the Hall

A SCRIBE is tailing JOAN, writing furiously. A SERVANT hovers, poised to take her orders.

JOAN is seventeen years old.

JOAN (rapid, urgent). Two pigs, two bullocks, a dozen hens.

One beast roasted, the others in parts…

Five pounds of salt for what we don’t eat.

A hundred loaves. Oat flour and wheat. Harder to chew but the flour won’t last till February if we use all the wheat now.

(Instructing the SERVANT.) So we use the honey and we use ALL the butter. ALL of it.

SERVANT ONE. Yes, my lady, but…

JOAN. Oh! And… and… I was down the home farm last night and if they don’t shift those cattle onto the far field by the river there won’t be any butter at all, so get down there, tell the cattleman to get them onto green grass and tell him I know why he’s not taking orders on it and tell him I do know his job better than he does and if he doubts it I can come down there with a three-foot cudgel and make my argument with that!

SERVANT ONE. Yes, my lady, but…

JOAN. Why are you still standing here! Go!