Canon Loyseleur—"For pity's sake, do not separate us!"
The Captain (to John)—"Take away this priest of Beelzebub!"
John (brutally to the canon)—"Come, get up! Be quick about it!"
Canon Loyseleur rises painfully from his couch of straw, clanking his chains all he can and uttering lamentable sighs. Joan advances toward the captain as far as her chain will allow her, and says in a sweet and imploring voice:
Joan Darc—"Sir, grant me a favor that never is denied to a prisoner. Allow me to take this holy man for my confessor."
The Captain—"Your confessor shall be the executioner, strumpet!"
Canon Loyseleur (carrying his chained hands to his eyes)—"Oh, sir captain, you are merciless."
John (rudely pushing the canon)—"March! March! You will have time enough to cry in your cell."
Joan Darc—"Sir captain, do not spurn my prayer—allow the good priest to visit me occasionally as my confessor."
The Captain (feigns to be mollified)—"I shall consult the Duke of Warwick upon that. For the present (to John), take the priest of Satan away and thrust him into some other cell."