Canon Loyseleur—"What is the matter, my dear daughter? You seem to tremble!"
Joan Darc (with a shiver)—"Oh, Father! May God stand by me! Thanks to Him, I never knew fear! (She covers her face with her hands in terror.) I, burned! Oh, Lord God! Burned! What a frightful death!"
Canon Loyseleur—"You are well justified in your fears. The purpose of the tribunal is to send you to the pyre."
Joan Darc (in a smothered voice)—"And yet they are priests! What harm have I done them? Why do they persecute me?"
Canon Loyseleur—"Oh, my daughter, do not blaspheme that sacred name of priest by applying it to those tigers who thirst for blood."
Joan Darc—"Pardon me, Father!"
Canon Loyseleur (in a voice of tender commiseration)—"Sweet and dear child, need you fear a word of blame from my mouth? No, no. It was but a generous impulse of indignation that carried me away against those new Pharisees who conspire to kill you, as their predecessors years ago conspired to kill Jesus our Redeemer! I am a clerk of theology. I know the manner in which such tribunals as you are about to face are wont to proceed. I know your life; the glorious voice of your fame has informed me of your noble deeds."
Joan Darc (dejectedly)—"Oh, if I had only remained home sewing and spinning. I would not now be in imminent danger of death!"
Canon Loyseleur—"Come, daughter of God, no weakness! Did not the Lord tell you by the voice of two of His saints and of His archangel: 'Go, daughter of God! Go to the aid of the King. You will deliver Gaul'?"
Joan Darc—"Yes, Father."