DUNOIS. I know all that. I do not fight in the old way: I have learnt the lesson of Agincourt, of Poitiers and Crecy. I know how many lives any move of mine will cost; and if the move is worth the cost I make it and pay the cost. But Joan never counts the cost at all: she goes ahead and trusts to God: she thinks she has God in her pocket. Up to now she has had the numbers on her side; and she has won. But I know Joan; and I see that some day she will go ahead when she has only ten men to do the work of a hundred. And then she will find that God is on the side of the big battalions. She will be taken by the enemy. And the lucky man that makes the capture will receive sixteen thousand pounds from the Earl of Ouareek. JOAN [_flattered_] Sixteen thousand pounds! Eh, laddie, have they offered that for me? There cannot be so much money in the world. DUNOIS. There is, in England. And now tell me, all of you, which of you will lift a finger to save Joan once the English have got her? I speak first, for the army. The day after she has been dragged from her horse by a goddam or a Burgundian, and he is not struck dead: the day after she is locked in a dungeon, and the bars and bolts do not fly open at the touch of St Peter’s angel: the day when the enemy finds out that she is as vulnerable as I am and not a bit more invincible, she will not be worth the life of a single soldier to us; and I will not risk that life, much as I cherish her as a companion-in-arms. JOAN. I dont blame you, Jack: you are right. I am not worth one soldier’s life if God lets me be beaten; but France may think me worth my ransom after what God has done for her through me. CHARLES. I tell you I have no money; and this coronation, which is all your fault, has cost me the last farthing I can borrow. JOAN. The Church is richer than you. I put my trust in the Church. THE ARCHBISHOP. Woman: they will drag you through the streets, and burn you as a witch. JOAN [_running to him_] Oh, my lord, do not say that. It is impossible. I a witch! THE ARCHBISHOP. Peter Cauchon knows his business. The University of Paris has burnt a woman for saying that what you have done was well done, and according to God. JOAN [_bewildered_] But why? What sense is there in it? What I have done is according to God. They could not burn a woman for speaking the truth. THE ARCHBISHOP. They did. JOAN. But you know that she was speaking the truth. You would not let them burn me. THE ARCHBISHOP. How could I prevent them? JOAN. You would speak in the name of the Church. You are a great prince of the Church. I would go anywhere with your blessing to protect me. THE ARCHBISHOP. I have no blessing for you while you are proud and disobedient. JOAN. Oh, why will you go on saying things like that? I am not proud and disobedient. I am a poor girl, and so ignorant that I do not know A from B. How could I be proud? And how can you say that I am disobedient when I always obey my voices, because they come from God.