John withdraws grumbling. Joan Darc, overwhelmed with terror, has fallen back upon the straw and represses her sobs. After the jailer's withdrawal she slightly regains courage, rises partly and the dialogue proceeds:
Joan Darc – "Pardon my weakness, Father. Oh, the mere thought of such a horrible death – the thought of mounting a pyre!" (She does not finish the sentence, and sobs violently.)
Canon Loyseleur – "By placing before you the frightful fate reserved to you, in case you are snared, I wished to put you upon your guard against your enemies."
Joan Darc (wiping her tears, and in an accent of profound gratitude) – "God will reward you, good Father, for the great pity you show me, a stranger to you."
Canon Loyseleur – "You are no stranger to me, Joan. I know you are one of the glories of France! The elect of the Lord! Now listen to the rest of what I have to say to you. I am in a hurry to complete my advice before I am dragged away from here. If, deceived by their perfidious suggestions, you should answer your judges that you believe you saw your saints appear before you, that you believe you heard their voices, instead of resolutely affirming that you saw them with your eyes and heard them with your ears, St. Catherine, St. Marguerite and the archangel St. Michael, sent to you by the Lord – "
Joan Darc – "It is the truth, Father. I shall tell what I saw and heard. I have never lied."
Canon Loyseleur – "The truth must be boldly confessed, in the face of the judges. You must answer them: 'Yes, I have seen these supernatural beings with my eyes; yes, I have heard their marvelous voices with my ears.' Then, dear child, despite all its ill will, the tribunal, unable to catch the slightest hesitation in your words, will be forced to recognize that you are a sacred virgin, the elect, the inspired of heaven. And however perverse, however devoted to the English your judges may be, they will find themselves forced to absolve you and set you free."
Joan Darc (yielding to hope) – "If all that is needed to be saved is to tell the truth, then my deliverance is certain. Thanks to God and to you, good Father. Thanks for your friendly advice!"
Canon Loyseleur – "If circumstantial details are asked for upon the form and shape of your apparitions, refuse to answer. They might be able to draw from your words some improper meaning. Limit yourself to the pure and simple affirmation of the reality of your visions and revelations."
Outside of the cell the noise of numerous steps is heard, together with the rattle of arms and the words: "To your posts! To your posts! Here is the captain of the tower!"
Canon Loyseleur (listens and says to Joan in great hurry) – "It is the captain. Perhaps the jailer will carry out his threat, and take me away from you, dear daughter. There is but one means for us to meet again. Demand of the captain permission to have me as your confessor. He will not dare to decline. I shall then be able to hold to your lips the sacred wafer, the bread of the angels."
The door opens with a great noise. A captain enters, followed by John and other keepers.
The Captain (pointing to the canon) – "Take that tonsured old scamp to another cell, and keep him on a fast."
Canon Loyseleur – "Sir captain, I pray you, allow me to remain near Joan, my daughter in God."
The Captain – "If the witch is your daughter, then you must be Satan in person."
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."
Canon Loyseleur (following the jailer) – "Courage, noble Joan! Courage, my daughter! Remember what I told you! May the holy name of God be ever glorified." (He goes out.)
Joan Darc (with tears in her eyes) – "May God guard me from forgetting your advice. May the Lord preserve you, good Father!" (She drops exhausted upon the straw.)
The Captain (to John) – "Remove the irons from the prisoner. She is to be taken upstairs. The tribunal is in session."
Joan Darc (rises and shivers involuntarily) – "So soon!"
The Captain (with a savage laugh) – "At last I see you tremble, witch! Your bravery came from the devil!"
Joan Darc smiles disdainfully. John and another jailer approach her to remove the irons that hold her by the feet and by the waist. She trembles with disgust and becomes purple with shame at the touch of these men's hands while they remove the irons from her limbs and body. Wounded not in her vanity but in her dignity at the thought of appearing before her judges in torn garments she says to the captain:
Joan Darc – "Sir, I have in that little trunk some linen and other clothes. Please order your men out for a few minutes in order that I may dress myself."
The Captain (bursting out laughing) – "By the devil, your patron! If you want to change your clothes, change them before us, and instead of a few minutes, I shall let you have all the time that you may want for your toilet. I would even help you, if you wish it, my pretty witch!"
Joan Darc (blushing with confusion, and with a firm voice) – "Let us be gone to the tribunal. May God help me. You are truly severe in refusing so slight a favor to a prisoner."
CHAPTER III
THE INQUISITION
The ecclesiastical tribunal before which Joan Darc is to appear is assembled in the ancient chapel of the old Castle of Rouen. The vaults overhead, the walls, the pillars, are blackened with age. It is eight in the morning. The pale light of this winter morn, chilly and foggy, penetrates to the vast nave through a single ogive window, cut into the thick wall behind the platform where the clerical judges are seated under the presidency of Bishop Peter Cauchon. To the left of the tribunal is a table at which the registrars are placed. Their duty is to keep the minutes of the questions and answers. Facing this table is the seat of Peter of Estivet, the institutor of the process. Nothing could be more sinister than the aspect of these men. In order to keep out the cold, they are clad in long furred robes with hoods down and almost completely covering their faces. Their backs are turned to the solitary window from which the only light, and that a weak one, enters the place. Thus they are wholly in the shade. A slight reflection of greyish light fringes the top of their black hoods and glides over their shoulders.
The judges have numerous substitutes to take their places when needed. The priests of the University of Paris are partly reserved for the other sessions. Here are the names of the infamous priests present at this first session. Their names should be inscribed in letters of blood and consigned to eternal execration:
Peter of Longueville, Abbot of the Holy Trinity of Fecamp; John Hulot of Chatillon, Archdeacon of Evreux; James Guesdon of the Order of Minor Friars; John Lefevre, Augustinian monk; Maurice of Quesnay, priest and professor of theology; William Leboucher, priest and doctor of canon law; William of Conti, Abbot of the Trinity of Mount St. Catherine; Bonnel, Abbot of Cormeilles; John Garin, Archdeacon of French Vexin; Richard of Gronchet, canon of the collegiate of Saussaye; Peter Minier, priest and bachelor of theology; Raoul Sauvage, of the Order of St. Dominic; Robert Barbier, canon of Rouen; Denis Gastinel, canon of Notre Dame-la-Ronde; John Ledoux, canon of Rouen; John Basset, canon of Rouen; John Brouillot, chanter of the Cathedral of Rouen; Aubert Morel, canon of Rouen; John Colombelle, canon of Rouen; Laurent Dubust, priest and licentiate of canon law; Raoul Auguy, canon of Rouen; Andre Marguerie, Archdeacon of Petit-Coux; John Alespee, canon of Rouen; Geoffroy of Crotoy, canon of Rouen; Gilles of Les Champs, canon of Rouen; John Lemaitre, vicar and Inquisitor of the faith; finally, Nicolas Loyseleur, canon of Rouen, who completely hides his face under his hood.
The registrars, Thomas of Courcelles, Manchon and Taquel Bois-Guillaume, are at their table ready to take down the proceedings. Canon Peter of Estivet, the institutor of the process, is in his seat. The other members of the ecclesiastical tribunal have taken their places.
Bishop Peter Cauchon (rising) – "My very dear brothers: Peter of Estivet, institutor of the process against Joan the Maid, will concisely state our petition. Listen attentively."
Canon Peter of Estivet (rises, takes a parchment from the table and reads) – "'We, Peter Cauchon, Bishop of Beauvais by the grace of God, metropolitan of the town and diocese of Rouen, have convoked you, our very dear brothers, in the name of the venerable and very reverend chapter of the cathedral to examine and judge the facts hereinafter set forth.
"'To the author and consummator of the faith, our Lord Jesus Christ, greeting.
"'A certain woman, commonly named Joan the Maid, has been taken and made a prisoner at Compiegne, within the jurisdiction of our diocese of Beauvais, by the soldiers of our very Christian and Serene Master Henry VI, King of England and of the French.
"'The said woman being strongly suspected by us of heresy, and our duty in the premises being to investigate her on her faith, we have requisitioned and demanded that the said woman be delivered and sent to us. We, Bishop, being informed by public rumor of the acts and deeds of the said Joan, acts and deeds that assail not only our faith but the faith of France and of all christendom, and wishing to proceed in this matter with all speed yet deliberately, have decreed that the said Joan shall be summoned to appear before us and be interrogated concerning her acts and deeds, as well as upon matters that concern the faith, and we have cited her to appear before us in the chapel of the Castle of Rouen, on this twentieth day of February, 1431, at eight o'clock in the morning, in order that she may answer the charges brought against her.'" (The institutor resumes his seat.)
Bishop Peter Cauchon – "Introduce the accused before the tribunal."
Two beadles in black gowns leave the chapel and speedily re-enter leading Joan. Once so resolute, so serene in those days of battle when, cased in her white armor and riding her charger, she dashed upon the enemy, her standard in her hand, the martial maid now shivers with fear at the sight of this tribunal of priests half hidden in the shadow of the chapel and their faces barely visible under their hoods – silent, motionless, like black phantoms. She recalls the words and the advice of Canon Loyseleur, whose presence among her judges she does not remotely suspect. The recollection of his words and advice at once give her heart and fill her with fear. By pretending to give her the means of escaping the snare spread for her, the canon had also informed her that the tribunal was predetermined to deliver her to the pyre. This thought upsets and frightens the prisoner, already weakened by so many sorrows and trials. She feels her knees shake at the first steps that she takes into the chapel, and forced to lean upon the arm of one of the beadles, she halts for a moment. At the sight of the young girl, now hardly nineteen, still so beautiful despite her pallor, thinness and tattered clothes, the ecclesiastical judges contemplate her with somber curiosity, but experience neither concern nor pity for the heroine of so many battles. From the political and religious viewpoint, she is to them an enemy. Their animosity towards her smothers all human sentiment in their breasts. Her great deeds, her genius, her glory irritate them all the more seeing they are conscious of the abominable crime in which they are about to share through ambition, orthodox fanaticism, cupidity and partisan hatred. Presently controlling her emotions, Joan Darc takes courage and advances between the two beadles. They lead her to the foot of the tribunal, and withdraw. She dares not raise her eyes to her judges, respectfully takes off her hat which she keeps in her hand, inclines herself slightly forward, and remains standing before the platform.
Bishop Cauchon (rising) – "Joan, approach (she draws nearer). Our duty as protectors and upholders of the Christian faith, with the aid of our Lord Jesus Christ, compels us to warn you in all charity that, in order to hasten your trial and the peace of your soul, you must tell the truth, the whole truth. In short, answer without subterfuge to our interrogatories. You are to swear on the Holy Scriptures to tell the truth. (To one of the beadles) Bring a missal."
The beadle brings a missal and presents it to Joan.
Bishop Cauchon – "Joan, down on your knees. Swear on that missal to tell the truth."
Joan Darc (mistrustful) – "I know not what you mean to interrogate me upon, sir. You may put such questions to me that I may be unable to answer."
Bishop Cauchon – "You shall swear that you will sincerely answer the questions that we shall put to you concerning your faith – and other things."
Joan Darc (kneels down and puts both her hands on the missal) – "I swear to tell the truth."
Bishop Cauchon – "What are your given names?"
Joan Darc – "In Lorraine I was called Jeannette. Since my arrival in France I have been called Joan. That is my name."
Bishop Cauchon – "Where were you born?"
Joan Darc – "In the village of Domremy, in the valley of Vaucouleurs."
Bishop Cauchon – "What are the names of your father and your mother?"
Joan Darc (with deep emotion) – "My father is named James Darc, my mother Isabelle Romée. These are the names of my dear parents."
Bishop Cauchon – "In what place were you baptized?"
Joan Darc – "In the church of Domremy."
Bishop Cauchon – "Who were your god-father and god-mother?"
Joan Darc – "My god-father's name was John Linguet, my god-mother's Sybille." (At the recollections invoked by this name a tear rolls down her cheek.)
Bishop Cauchon – "This woman claimed to have seen fairies. Did she not pass in the region for a soothsayer and sorceress?"
Joan Darc (with a firmer voice) – "My god-mother was a good and wise woman."
Bishop Cauchon – "What priest baptized you at your birth?"
Joan Darc – "Master John Minet, our curate, a holy man."
Bishop Cauchon – "How old are you?"
Joan Darc – "Nearly nineteen."
Bishop Cauchon – "Do you know your Pater Noster?"
Joan Darc – "My mother taught it to me, and I recite it mornings and evenings." (She sighs.)
Bishop Cauchon – "Will you pledge yourself not to flee from the Castle of Rouen, under pain of passing for a heretic?"
Joan Darc (remains silent for a moment and reflects; by degrees she regains her self-assurance; she answers in a firm voice) – "I shall not take that pledge. I will not promise not to seek to flee, if the opportunity offers."
Raoul Sauvage (threateningly) – "Your chains will then be doubled, to keep you from escaping."
Joan Darc – "It is allowed to all prisoners to escape from their prison."
Bishop Cauchon (with severity, after consulting in a low voice with several of the judges sitting near him) – "The rebellious words of the said Joan having been heard, we shall particularly commit her to the keeping of the noble John Le Gris, a guardsman of our Sire, the King of England and France, and join to John Le Gris the equerries Berwick and Talbot, English men-at-arms. All the three are hereby charged to keep the prisoner, and we recommend to them not to allow anyone to approach her or to speak with her without our permission. (Addressing himself to the tribunal) Those of our very dear brothers who have any question to put to the accused, are now free to do so."
A Judge – "Joan, do you swear to tell the whole truth? I await your answer."
Joan Darc (with dignity) – "I have sworn; that is enough. I never lie."
The Same Judge – "Did you in your infancy learn to work like the other girls of the fields?"
Joan Darc – "My mother taught me to sew and to spin, and also the labors of the field."
Another Judge – "Did you have a confessor?"
Joan Darc – "Yes, the curate of our parish is my confessor and spiritual guide."
The Same Judge – "Did you confess your revelations to your curate or to any other man of the church?"
Joan Darc – "No, I said nothing upon that."
The priests exchange meaning glances and a few words in a low voice.
The Same Judge – "Why that secrecy towards your curate?"
Joan Darc – "Had I spoken about my apparitions my father and mother would have opposed my undertaking."
Another Judge – "Do you think you committed a sin in leaving your father and your mother, contrary to the precept of the Scriptures – 'Thou shalt honor thy father and mother'?"
Joan Darc – "I never disobeyed them before I left them. But I wrote to them; they pardoned me."
The Same Judge – "Accordingly, you think you can violate without sin the commandments of the church?"
Joan Darc – "God commanded me to go to the aid of Orleans. I would not have been the King's servant had I not departed."
Bishop Cauchon (with a significant look at the judges) – "You claim, Joan, to have had revelations, visions – at what age did that happen to you?"
Joan Darc – "I was then thirteen and a half years old. It was noon, in summer. I had fasted the previous day. I heard the voice, that seemed to proceed from the church. At the same time I saw a great light that dazzled me."
Bishop Cauchon (slowly and weighing every word) – "You say you heard voices – are you quite certain?"
Joan Darc (to herself: Here is the snare that the good priest warned me against – I shall escape it by telling the truth) – "I heard the voices as clearly as I hear yours, Sir Bishop."
Bishop Cauchon – "Do you affirm that?"
Joan Darc – "Yes, sir; because it is the truth."
Bishop Cauchon (lets his eyes travel triumphantly over the tribunal; his gesture is understood; a momentary silence ensues; then to the registrars) – "Have you taken down textually the prisoner's answer?"
A Registrar – "Yes, monseigneur."
A Judge – "And in France, Joan, did you there also hear those voices?"
Joan Darc – "Yes, sir."
Another Judge – "Whence do you suppose came those voices?"
Joan Darc (with an accent of profound conviction) – "The voices came from God."
Another Judge – "What do you know about that?"
Another Judge – "What were the circumstances under which you were captured at Compiegne?"
Another Judge – "Who dictated the letter that you addressed to the English?"
These unrelated and cross questions followed close upon one another for the purpose of confusing Joan.
Joan Darc (after a moment's silence) – "If you all question me at once, sirs, I shall be unable to answer any of you."
Bishop Cauchon – "Well, what makes you believe that the voices you speak about were divine?"
Joan Darc – "They told me to behave like an honest girl, and that with the aid of God I would save France."
A Judge – "Was it revealed to you that if you lost your virginity you would forfeit your luck in war?"
Joan Darc (blushing) – "That was not revealed to me."
The Same Judge – "Was it to the archangel St. Michael that you promised to remain a virgin?"
Joan Darc (with chaste impatience) – "I made my vow to my good saints, St. Marguerite and St. Catherine."
Another Judge – "And so the voices of your saints ordered you to come to France?"
Joan Darc – "Yes, for my own and the King's safety, and to deliver Gaul from the foreign yoke."
Bishop Cauchon – "Did you not at that epoch see the apparition of St. Marguerite and St. Catherine, to whom you attribute the voices, those divine voices according to you?"
Joan Darc – "Yes, sir."
Bishop Cauchon (deliberately) – "You are certain of having seen the apparition?"
Joan Darc – "I saw my dear saints as clearly as I see you, sir."
Bishop Cauchon – "You affirm that?"
Joan Darc – "I affirm it upon my salvation."
Renewed and profound silence among the judges; several of them take notes; others exchange a few words in a low voice.
A Judge – "By what sign did you recognize those whom you call St. Catherine and St. Marguerite to have been saints?"
Joan Darc – "By their saintliness."
Bishop Cauchon – "And the archangel St. Michael appeared before you?"
Joan Darc – "Yes, sir; several times."
A Judge – "How is he clad?"
Joan Darc (recollecting the advice of Canon Loyseleur) – "I do not know."
The same Judge – "You refuse to answer? Was the angel perhaps quite nude?"
Joan Darc (blushing) – "Do you imagine God has not the wherewithal to clothe him?"
Bishop Cauchon – "Your language is quite bold. Do you consider yourself under the protection of God?"
Joan Darc – "If I am not, may God place me there. If I am, may He keep me there. (In a loud and strong voice:) But remember this: You are my judges, you assume a grave responsibility in accusing me. As to myself, the burden is light."
These noble words, pronounced by the martial maid in the conviction of her innocence, and indicative of her mistrust of her judges, announce a change in her spirit, a fortitude not there when the interrogatory commenced. She had secretly invoked her "voices" and they had answered – "Go on; fear not; answer the wicked priests boldly; you have nothing to reproach yourself with; God is with you; He will not forsake you." Strengthened by these thoughts and hope, the heroine raises her head; her pale and handsome face is now slightly colored; her large black eyes fix themselves boldly upon the Bishop; she realizes that he is her mortal enemy. The ecclesiastical judges remark the increasing assurance of the accused, who but a moment before was so timid and so dejected. The transformation augurs well for their projects. In the pride of her exaltation, Joan Darc may, and is bound to, drop admissions that she would have kept secret had she remained reserved, timid and mistrustful. Despite his wickedness, the Bishop feels rebuked by the eyes of Joan. He drops his hypocritical face, turns away his eyes and continues the interrogatory in a faltering voice.
Bishop Cauchon – "So, then, Joan, it was by order of your voices that you went to Vaucouleurs in search of a certain captain named Robert of Baudricourt, who furnished you with an escort to take you to the King, to whom you promised to raise the siege of Orleans?"
Joan Darc – "Yes, sir, you speak truly."
Bishop Cauchon – "Do you admit having dictated a letter addressed to the Duke of Bedford, Regent of England, and other illustrious captains?"
Joan Darc – "I dictated the letter at Poitiers, sir."
Bishop Cauchon – "In that letter you threatened the English with death?"
Joan Darc – "Yes; if they did not return to their own country, and if they persisted in heaping trials upon trials on the poor people of France, in ravaging the country, in burning the villages."
Bishop Cauchon – "Was not that letter written by you under the invocation of our Lord Jesus Christ and of His immaculate Mother, the holy Virgin?"
Joan Darc – "I ordered the words 'Jesus and Mary' to be placed in the form of a prayer at the head of the letters that I dictated. Was that wrong?"
Bishop Cauchon (does not answer; looks askance at the judges; several of these enter on their tablets the last answer of the accused, an answer that seems to be of extreme gravity judging from their hurry to note it) – "How did you sign the letters that you dictated?"
Joan Darc – "I do not know how to write. I placed my cross in God as a signature at the foot of the parchment."
This second answer, no less dangerous than the first, is likewise noted down with great zest by the priests. A profound silence follows. The Bishop seems to interrogate the registrars with his looks, and to ask them whether they have finished writing down the words of the accused.
Bishop Cauchon – "After several battles you forced the English to raise the siege of Orleans?"
Joan Darc – "My voices advised me. I fought – and God gave us the victory."
A Judge – "If those voices are of St. Marguerite and St. Catherine, these saints must hate the English."
Joan Darc – "What God hates they hate; what He loves they love."
Another Judge – "Come, now; God loves the English, seeing He has so long rendered them victorious and they conquered a part of France."
Joan Darc – "He undoubtedly left them to the punishment of their cruelty."
Another Judge – "Why should God have chosen a girl of your station rather than some other person to vanquish them?"
Joan Darc – "Because it pleased the Lord to have the English routed by a poor girl like myself."
The Same Judge – "How much money did your King pay you to serve him?"
Joan Darc (proudly) – "I never asked aught of the King but good arms, good horses, and the payment of my soldiers."
Bishop Cauchon – "When your King put you to the work of war, you ordered a standard to be made for you. What was its material?"
Joan Darc – "It was of white satin." (She drops her head sadly at the recollection of the past glories of her banner, that was so terrible a device to the English, whose prisoner she now is. She smothers a sob.)
Bishop Cauchon – "What figures were painted on it?"
Joan Darc – "Two angels holding a lily stalk. Two symbols; God and the King."
These words are likewise noted down with great zest by the members of the tribunal.
A Judge – "Was your standard frequently renewed?"
Joan Darc – "It was renewed as often as its staff was broken in battle. That happened frequently."
Another Judge – "Did not some of those who followed you have standards made similar to yours?"
Joan Darc – "Some did; others did not."
The Same Judge – "Were those who bore a standard similar to yours lucky in war? Did they rout the English?"
Joan Darc – "Yes, if they were brave, they then triumphed over the English."
Another Judge – "Did your people follow you to battle because they considered you inspired?"
Joan Darc – "I said to them: 'Let us fall bravely upon the English!' I was the first to fall to – they followed me."
The Judge – "In short, your people took you to be inspired of God?"
Joan Darc – "Whether they believed me to be inspired or not, they trusted in my courage."
Bishop Cauchon – "Did you not, when your King was consecrated at Rheims, proudly wave your banner over the prince's head?"
Joan Darc – "No; but alone of all the captains, I accompanied the King into the cathedral with my standard in my hand."
A Judge (angrily) – "Accordingly, while the other captains did not bring their standards to the solemnity, you brought yours!"
Joan Darc – "It had been at the pain – it was entitled to be at the honor."
This sublime answer, of such legitimate and touching pride and bearing the stamp of antique simplicity, strikes the assembled ecclesiastical executioners with admiration. They pause despite their bitter malice towards their victim. These were heroic and scathing words. They told of the price of perils and above all of disenchantment that Joan had paid for her triumph. Aye, she and her glorious standard had been cruelly in pain, poor martyr that she was. Her virginal body was broken by the rude trials of war. She had shed her generous blood on the fields of battle. She had struggled with admirable stubbornness, with mortal anxieties born of the most sacred patriotism, against the treasonable plots of the captains who finally brought on her downfall. She had struggled against the sloth of Charles VII, the poltroon whom with so much pain she dragged from victory to victory as far as Rheims, where she had him consecrated King. Her only recompense was to see her standard "at the honor" of that solemn consecration, from which she expected the salvation of Gaul. Her standard had been at the pain – it was entitled to be at the honor. The astonishment of the ecclesiastics at these sublime words is profound. Deep silence ensues. Bishop Cauchon is the first to break it. Addressing himself to the accused in measured words, an ordinary symptom with him of some lurking perfidy, he asks:
Bishop Cauchon – "Joan, when you entered a town, did not the inhabitants kiss your hands, your feet, your clothes?"
Joan Darc – "Many wished to; and when poor people, women and children, came to me, I feared to grieve them if I repelled them."
This answer is to be used against her; several of the judges note it down, while a sinister smile plays around the lips of Bishop Cauchon; he proceeds:
Bishop Cauchon – "Did you ever hold a child at the baptismal font?"
Joan Darc – "Yes; I held a child at the holy font of Soissons, and two others at St. Denis. These are the only ones to whom I have been god-mother."
Bishop Cauchon – "What names did you give them?"
Joan Darc – "To the boy the name of Charles, in honor of the King of France; to the girls the name of Joan, because the mothers so wished it."
These words, that charmingly depict the enthusiasm which the martial maid inspired among the people, and the generosity that she showed towards Charles, are to be a further charge against her. Several judges note them down.
Bishop Cauchon – "A mother at Lagny asked you to visit her dying child, did she not?"
Joan Darc – "Yes, but the child had been brought to the Church of Notre-Dame. Young girls of the town were on their knees at the door and prayed for the child. I knelt down among them, and I also prayed to God for His blessing upon the child."
Canon Loyseleur (from under his completely lowered hood and disguising his voice) – "Which of the two Popes is the real Pope?"