Saint Joan

The Church holds out its arms to you. Joan Despairing. Oh, it is true: it is true: my voices have deceived me. I have been mocked by devils: my faith is broken. I have dared and dared; but only a fool will walk into a fire: God, who gave me my common sense, cannot will me to do that. Ladvenu Now God be praised that He has saved you at the eleventh hour! He hurries to the vacant seat at the scribes’ table, and snatches a sheet of paper, on which he sets to work writing eagerly. Cauchon Amen! Joan What must I do? Cauchon You must sign a solemn recantation of your heresy. Joan Sign? That means to write my name. I cannot write. Cauchon You have signed many letters before. Joan Yes; but someone held my hand and guided the pen. I can make my mark. The Chaplain Who has been listening with growing alarm and indignation. My lord: do you mean that you are going to allow this woman to escape us? The Inquisitor The law must take its course, Master de Stogumber. And you know the law. The Chaplain Rising, purple with fury. I know that there is no faith in a Frenchman. Tumult, which he shouts down. I know what my lord the Cardinal of Winchester will say when he hears of this. I know what the Earl of Warwick will do when he learns that you intend to betray him. There are eight hundred men at the gate who will see that this abominable witch is burnt in spite of your teeth. The Assessors Meanwhile. What is this? What did he say? He accuses us of treachery! This is past bearing. No faith in a Frenchman! Did you hear that? This is an intolerable fellow. Who is he? Is this what English Churchmen are like? He must be mad or drunk, etc., etc. The Inquisitor Rising. Silence, pray! Gentlemen: pray silence! Master Chaplain: bethink you a moment of your holy office: of what you are, and where you are. I direct you to sit down. The Chaplain Folding his arms doggedly, his face working convulsively. I will not sit down. Cauchon Master Inquisitor; this man has called me a traitor to my face before now. The Chaplain So you are a traitor. You are all traitors. You have been doing nothing but begging this damnable witch on your knees to recant all through this trial. The Inquisitor Placidly resuming his seat. If you will not sit, you must stand: that is all. The Chaplain I will not stand. He flings himself back into his chair. Ladvenu Rising with the paper in his hand. My lord: here is the form of recantation for The Maid to sign. Cauchon Read it to her. Joan Do not trouble. I will sign it. The Inquisitor Woman: you must know what you are putting your hand to. Read it to her, Brother Martin. And let all be silent. Ladvenu Reading quietly. “I, Joan, commonly called The Maid, a miserable sinner, do confess that I have most grievously sinned in the following articles. I have pretended to have revelations from God and the angels and the blessed saints, and perversely rejected the Church’s warnings that these were temptations by demons. I have blasphemed abominably by wearing an immodest dress, contrary to the Holy Scripture and the canons of the Church. Also I have clipped my hair in the style of a man, and, against all the duties which have made my sex specially acceptable in heaven, have taken up the sword, even to the shedding of human blood, inciting men to slay each other, invoking evil spirits to delude them, and stubbornly and most blasphemously imputing these sins to Almighty God. I confess to the sin of sedition, to the sin of idolatry, to the sin of disobedience, to the sin of pride, and to the sin of heresy. All of which sins I now renounce and abjure and depart from, humbly thanking you Doctors and Masters who have brought me back to the truth and into the grace of our Lord. And I will never return to my errors, but will remain in communion with our Holy Church and in obedience to our Holy Father the Pope of Rome. All this I swear by God Almighty and the Holy Gospels, in witness whereto I sign my name to this recantation.” The Inquisitor You understand this, Joan? Joan Listless. It is plain enough, sir. The Inquisitor And it is true? Joan It may be true. If it were not true, the fire would not be ready for me in the marketplace. Ladvenu Taking up his pen and a book, and going to her quickly lest she should compromise herself again. Come, child: let me guide your hand. Take the pen. She does so; and they begin to write, using the book as a desk. J.E.H.A.N.E. So. Now make your mark by yourself. Joan Makes her mark, and gives him back the pen, tormented by the rebellion of her soul against her mind and body. There! Ladvenu Replacing the pen on the table, and handing the recantation to Cauchon with a reverence. Praise be to God, my brothers, the lamb has returned to the flock; and the shepherd rejoices in her more than in ninety and nine just persons. He returns to his seat. The Inquisitor Taking the paper from Cauchon. We declare thee by this act set free from the danger of excommunication in which thou stoodest. He throws the paper down to the table. Joan I thank you. The Inquisitor But because thou hast sinned most presumptuously against God and the Holy Church, and that thou mayest repent thy errors in solitary contemplation, and be shielded from all temptation to return to them, we, for the good of thy soul, and for a penance that may wipe out thy sins and bring thee finally unspotted to the throne of grace, do condemn thee