Saint Joan by George Bernard Shaw

Orleans, 29 April, 1429. Dunois, aged 26, is pacing up and down a patch of ground on the south bank of the silver Loire, commanding a long view of the river in both directions. He has had his lance stuck up with a pennon, which streams in a strong east wind. His shield with its bend sinister lies beside it. He has his commander's baton in his hand. He is well built, carrying his armor easily. His broad brow and pointed chin give him an equilaterally triangular face, already marked by active service and responsibility, with the expression of a good-natured and capable man who has no affectations and no foolish illusions. His page is sitting on the ground, elbows on knees, cheeks on fists, idly watching the water. It is evening; and both man and boy are affected by the loveliness of the Loire.

DUNOIS [halting for a moment to glance up at the streaming pennon and shake his head wearily before he resumes his pacing] West wind, west wind, west wind. Strumpet: steadfast when you should be wanton, wanton when you should be steadfast. West wind on the silver Loire: what rhymes to Loire? [He looks again at the pennon, and shakes his fist at it] Change, curse you, change, English harlot of a wind, change. West, west, I tell you. [With a growl he resumes his march in silence, but soon begins again] West wind, wanton wind, wilful wind, womanish wind, false wind from over the water, will you never blow again?