D’ESTIVET. Sir: I am the Promoter; and it has been my painful duty to present the case against the girl; but believe me, I would throw up my case today and hasten to her defence if I did not know that men far my superiors in learning and piety, in eloquence and persuasiveness, have been sent to reason with her, to explain to her the danger she is running, and the ease with which she may avoid it. [_Suddenly bursting into forensic eloquence, to the disgust of Cauchon and the Inquisitor, who have listened to him so far with patronizing approval_] Men have dared to say that we are acting from hate; but God is our witness that they lie. Have we tortured her? No. Have we ceased to exhort her; to implore her to have pity on herself; to come to the bosom of her Church as an erring but beloved child? Have we— CAUCHON [_interrupting drily_] Take care, Canon. All that you say is true; but if you make his lordship believe it I will not answer for your life, and hardly for my own. WARWICK [_deprecating, but by no means denying_] Oh, my lord, you are very hard on us poor English. But we certainly do not share your pious desire to save The Maid: in fact I tell you now plainly that her death is a political necessity which I regret but cannot help. If the Church lets her go— CAUCHON [_with fierce and menacing pride_] If the Church lets her go, woe to the man, were he the Emperor himself, who dares lay a finger on her! The Church is not subject to political necessity, my lord! THE INQUISITOR [_interposing smoothly_] You need have no anxiety about the result, my lord. You have an invincible ally in the matter: one who is far more determined than you that she shall burn. WARWICK. And who is this very convenient partisan, may I ask? THE INQUISITOR. The Maid herself. Unless you put a gag in her mouth you cannot prevent her from convicting herself ten times over every time she opens it. D’ESTIVET. That is perfectly true, my lord. My hair bristles on my head when I hear so young a creature utter such blasphemies. WARWICK. Well, by all means do your best for her if you are quite sure it will be of no avail. [_Looking hard at Cauchon_] I should be sorry to have to act without the blessing of the Church. CAUCHON [_with a mixture of cynical admiration and contempt_] And yet they say Englishmen are hypocrites! You play for your side, my lord, even at the peril of your soul. I cannot but admire such devotion; but I dare not go so far myself. I fear damnation. WARWICK. If we feared anything we could never govern England, my lord. Shall I send your people in to you? CAUCHON. Yes: it will be very good of your lordship to withdraw and allow the court to assemble. _Warwick turns on his heel, and goes out through the courtyard. Cauchon takes one of the judicial seats; and D’Estivet sits at the scribes’ table, studying his brief._ CAUCHON [_casually, as he makes himself comfortable_] What scoundrels these English nobles are!