"You have heard your sentence, rise, my daughter."
Joan Darc rises, and pointing to heaven as if taking the spheres for her witness, says in a loud voice and with an accent of crushing reproach to Bishop Cauchon, who remains standing near the edge of the platform above her:
"Bishop! Bishop! I die at your hands!"
Despite his audacity, Peter Cauchon trembles, grows pale, bows his head before the girl's anathema, and hastens to resume his seat near the Cardinal.
Two executioners draw near at the words of the prelate consigning Joan Darc to the secular powers. Each seizes her by an arm and they lead her to the pyre, Isambard following.
"Father," says Joan to the latter, "I wish to have a cross, so as to die contemplating it."
The request being overheard by several English soldiers, they answer:
"You need no cross, relapsed sinner!"
"Witch! To the fagots with you!"
"You only want to gain time!"