THE CHAPLAIN. Certainly England for the English goes without saying: it is the simple law of nature. But this woman denies to England her legitimate conquests, given her by God because of her peculiar fitness to rule over less civilized races for their own good. I do not understand what your lordships mean by Protestant and Nationalist: you are too learned and subtle for a poor clerk like myself. But I know as a matter of plain commonsense that the woman is a rebel; and that is enough for me. She rebels against Nature by wearing man’s clothes, and fighting. She rebels against The Church by usurping the divine authority of the Pope. She rebels against God by her damnable league with Satan and his evil spirits against our army. And all these rebellions are only excuses for her great rebellion against England. That is not to be endured. Let her perish. Let her burn. Let her not infect the whole flock. It is expedient that one woman die for the people. WARWICK [_rising_] My lord: we seem to be agreed. CAUCHON [_rising also, but in protest_] I will not imperil my soul. I will uphold the justice of the Church. I will strive to the utmost for this woman’s salvation. WARWICK. I am sorry for the poor girl. I hate these severities. I will spare her if I can. THE CHAPLAIN [_implacably_] I would burn her with my own hands. CAUCHON [_blessing him_] Sancta simplicitas! ------------------------------------------------------------------------ SCENE V _The ambulatory in the cathedral of Rheims, near the door of the vestry. A pillar bears one of the stations of the cross. The organ is playing the people out of the nave after the coronation. Joan is kneeling in prayer before the station. She is beautifully dressed, but still in male attire. The organ ceases as Dunois, also splendidly arrayed, comes into the ambulatory from the vestry._ DUNOIS. Come, Joan! you have had enough praying. After that fit of crying you will catch a chill if you stay here any longer. It is all over: the cathedral is empty; and the streets are full. They are calling for The Maid. We have told them you are staying here alone to pray: but they want to see you again. JOAN. No: let the king have all the glory. DUNOIS. He only spoils the show, poor devil. No, Joan: you have crowned him; and you must go through with it. JOAN [_shakes her head reluctantly_]. DUNOIS [_raising her_] Come come! it will be over in a couple of hours. It’s better than the bridge at Orleans: eh? JOAN. Oh, dear Dunois, how I wish it were the bridge at Orleans again! We lived at that bridge. DUNOIS. Yes, faith, and died too: some of us. JOAN. Isnt it strange, Jack? I am such a coward: I am frightened beyond words before a battle; but it is so dull afterwards when there is no danger: oh, so dull! dull! dull! DUNOIS. You must learn to be abstemious in war, just as you are in your food and drink, my little saint.