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Joan of Arc
Here...
Here, girl.
Sunday, May 8th, 1429. In the morning.
Come here.
Lady Joan.
- Marie wants a word. - What is it?
- I don't know. - Let her come.
Marie!
Lady Joan.
Please touch this rosary.
- What for? - To make it good.
If Dame Jacqueline touches it, it will be just as good.
Impossible. The neighbour's son is dying.
I'd rather you touched it.
Then let us pray together for the boy. Show me the way.
- Lady Joan, shall I take your armour? - When I return.
Goodbye, child.
- Goodbye, all. - Goodbye.
Thursday, September 8th, 1429. Four months later.
Day of the Nativity of the Blessed Virgin Mary.
Is that you, my lord?
You didn't wish to stay in St Denis with His Majesty?
I couldn't stay with the king.
I have come here to learn news as it comes.
I'm no expert, but this day could prove decisive.
Do you think today we'll take Paris there?
I didn't say that. I said that the day
could prove decisive.
Here's Lord Patrice Bernard.
Well, my lord?
My lord, I want to learn news as it comes.
This day could be decisive.
If you believe so, my lord.
I'll tell you why. I have patiently studied
the case of Lady Joan the Maid.
Does she come from God...
Or elsewhere, poor child?
Is she still guided by her voices?
She talks about them less.
Here's Lord de Rais.
My lord, up early today, are we?
You don't seem pleased, marshal, with all these battles.
My word, at this rate, the war will be over in six months.
How will we amuse ourselves?
I'm unlucky.
Do you know what I was told today?
No, my lord.
Lady Joan, have you heard?
Heard what?
Gangs have pillaged a few villages.
But wealthy villages.
To think I missed it! It wasn't far away.
Where, my lord?
A few days' march down the Seine.
It was terrible. They burned men, women, children...
We must go there tomorrow, once Paris is taken.
Those English brigands!
No, Lady Joan,
they weren't English but French.
I see.
The English aren't as violent and stupid.
They wouldn't burn the women first.
What use are they, dead?
But...
the thing is, we can still use them once they're dead, only...
Only...
That's witchcraft.
Are you a wizard, Lord de Rais?
No, my lord. Not yet.
- Let us arm ourselves. - Indeed.
It is not good that Lady Joan should always be ready before us.
Oh my God, I knew the suffering of battle
When the frenzied assailants launched their attack
I knew, oh my God, the suffering of battle
When the frenzied assailants rushed towards us like a flood
The assailants rose up like a river in flood
And we could tell that nothing could withstand them
That nothing could withstand them, neither the wall nor the gate
And that this living flood would drown everything
I myself
I was afraid of the power of this flood
Of this flood
Hammers crushed helmets and skulls
Arrows slid off the iron breastplates
Hammers crushed helmets and skulls
Axes cut into breastplates and flesh
I was a warlord
And all those hammers
Struck and crushed on my orders
I was the lord of the battle, oh God,
Those axes chopped and chopped again
On my orders
I've known the suffering of being the lord of the battle
I've known the suffering
of being the lord of the battle
I've known the suffering
of being the lord of the battle
I also knew the anguish of betrayal
When no one moved before the furious English hordes
When we had to remain sitting in our houses
And see the loathsome lay waste as they saw fit
Or when we had to leave to do battle
And march at the head of potential traitors
I would lead the way and, in the face of the battle,
I knew they were there, following behind
And, waking the unforgotten, ancient lie,
I also knew the anguish of betrayal
But I did not know that anguish
That ugly, dirty, filthy anguish
The anguish of the words
My God
That he spoke just now
The words that he spoke
Can I ever cleanse my soul?
I dare not say the words he spoke
How can I command the attack now?
After what he said victory would be
How can I order him to follow me in the attack?
Him
In the attack
Him
Lady Joan?
It's you, my friend.
I'm here to see what your voices command.
They command nothing.
It's high time you asked.
I can't and won't this morn.
How come?
Human battle is too ugly.
Life in Lorraine is sweet.
I would love to spin and keep the sheep by the Meuse.
I'd spy my home from Vaslin the carter's
and I'd greet my father and mother, so glad to see me.
Don't cry, Lady Joan.
Don't cry so.
Why are you crying? You must be homesick.
I was homesick too.
I cried too. But I don't cry anymore.
You mustn't cry.
We must ply our trade.
You're right, my master. I mustn't cry so.
I mustn't cry.
Each must ply his trade as long as there's work.
Here are the orders.
We'll attack Paris by St Honoré's Gate.
Be at the gate with your culverin.
Very good.
Whatever happens, I refuse to leave before taking Paris.
Understood, Lady Joan.
I'm counting on you. Today will be decisive.
We'll do what we can.
Worry not.
It's Monsieur de Gaucourt.
Monsieur de Gaucourt, take command.
Wait a minute, Joan.
Monsieur de Gaucourt will obey on one condition.
What condition, my lord?
A natural condition, Joan, and easy to fulfil.
Simply assure him
that you are still advised by your voices.
My lord, my voices haven't advised me
but ordered me to hound the English out.
Very well, Joan. That is good.
But we are not asking for so much.
We are simply asking you if, this morning,
your voices ordered you to lead us to Paris.
My lord, my voices ordered me to hound the English out of France.
Paris is in France.
My lord, command the men who go.
Friday, September 9th, 1429. The next morning. The same place.
Good day, my lords.
My lord, I'm still weary.
Yesterday was a tough day. A very tough day.
Is this Lady Joan's first defeat?
Yes, my lord.
The first time that Lady Joan has had what one can call a defeat.
If she's victorious today, we can't condemn her
for yesterday.
Will she succeed today?
I want no more to do with it!
You won't fight today?
Not without the king's orders.
They may come this morning.
Good, my lord. Then we'll know what to do!
Will the army march on the king's orders?
I'm sure, my lord, apart from a few numbskulls,
like d'Alençon.
Here he is, with Lady Joan.
They're inseparable.
Good day, my lords.
- Good day, my lords. - My lord.
We began too late yesterday.
It should have been earlier. You command the army.
So, today...
Today, ma'am, we must wait
to see if the king issues orders.
Do you think the king...
I don't think anything, ma'am, and I know nothing.
But we must wait.
Here comes Lord de Rais who is waiting too.
Hello, Lady Joan.
- My lords. - My lord.
Lady Joan, I'm here about yesterday's defeat.
It's your fault we lost.
How come?
- You can't talk to soldiers. - I can't?
Don't you realize? You talk of God, love, sin, prayers...
That's not how to do it.
How then, as you seem so sure?
Tell them,
"Soldiers, look at these riches you can seize!
Gold and silver!"
Soldiers want war, victory and blood!
Women.
No need, we think of them already.
Listen to what I tell you.
Do you know who says that?
Yes, a good captain.
No, he who says that is the worst of men.
The marshal seems displeased.
When he jokes in that tone, it's a bad sign.
He is hurt to the point of hatred.
Fatally.
And, knowing him,
if you had been a real captain, ma'am,
I swear he would not have let you say all you said.
I just spoke my mind, my lord.
Listen, ma'am...
I have no great affection for Monsieur de Rais.
You cannot say his look
is the look of a man.
Truly, I don't like him.
But he wasn't wrong in what he said.
You imagine that everyone is as pious,
merciful and kind as you.
But you're mistaken.
If you knew life... But you're just a child.
You don't know life.
You don't know the world.
Men have no great worth.
Men are impious.
Men are cruel,
pillagers, thieves and liars.
They love feasting.
It's sad to say, alas, but that's how it is.
In 50 years frequenting them, I've always known them so.
Men are what they are.
But we must think of what we must be.
The best, Lady Joan, have their weaknesses too.
Even you will tire of them.
Perhaps I will. But, for now, I am right
when I say what I have to say.
If I had to speak like Monsieur de Rais to save France...
Beware, my child.
Do not utter words beyond repair.
If I had to repair them, that day I would be wrong
and I reject that idea forthwith.
Here is what I say and believe.
If I had to speak like Monsieur de Rais to save France...
I'd rather France not be saved.
Goodbye, madam, goodbye.
Your soul is blameless and I commend you.
But you should silence your thoughts.
His Majesty is bound to hear how you talk about his realm.
My lord!
Around 50 Parisians are coming.
On horseback.
They have white crosses on their breastplates.
Like the French.
I pray it's true.
Bring their leaders here as soon as they arrive.
I pray it's true, that defeat is no more.
My lord, the Baron of Montmorency.
My lord, and you, my lady, may our Saviour preserve you.
You too, my lord.
My companions and I come here pitifully
to request forgiveness of our honest and sovereign lord
for all the crimes, wrongs and offences
that we have committed
by siding with Henry VI of Lancaster,
so-called King of France and England.
Welcome, my lord.
To earn this pardon, we beseech the king our lord
to employ us in his royal army.
We shall willingly and steadfastly obey
any orders he gives us.
Good news, my lords!
News from Paris. It is ours.
We shall be in Paris today.
Very good, Lady Joan.
This is a morning for news
for we have some from St Denis.
A group of French riders approaches at a gallop.
News of the king is always good news, isn't it?
No doubt, my lords.
Here's the Count of Clermont. He has a herald with him.
He no doubt brings important news.
Good day, my lords.
My lord.
Please listen to the king's message.
"To our dear, beloved princes,
captains and men-at-arms gathered before Paris for war...
We were displeased to learn
that men of our royal army
undertook yesterday
an armed attack on the city of Paris
even though that city is no longer loyal to our old enemy,
Henry of Lancaster, so-called King of France and England,
who sent his herald this morning
to consolidate our truce established
on the 28th of August last.
We wished that truce to include the city of Paris
and, through this proclamation, we order all princes,
captains and men-at-arms gathered for war
before the city of Paris
to abstain from attack.
As soon as they have received our orders,
we request that they return to us with their arms.
Those who decide to remain, contrary to our royal order,
and so prevent peace
are hereby deemed traitors to us
and we order our loyal servants
to force them to obey as necessary.
Issued at the Abbey of St Denis, on the ninth day of September
and marked with our royal seal.
Charles."
My lord,
tell our sovereign that the captains follow you.
We shall gather the men and leave for St Denis.
My lords,
once you have gathered your men,
if you so desire,
please inform my lord and me.
We shall leave together.
Late March, 1430. Six and a half months later.
Garden of the Château de la Trémouille.
Seven months ago, our Lord God
allowed his servant to experience before Paris
the anguish of defeat.
I told you, victory always comes after defeat.
There will be no more great defeats.
Because the war was not as great.
There were fewer defeats and victories
as the war died down.
For almost a month now, we've been at Sully-sur-Loire
in my lord de La Trémouille's castle. And, meanwhile,
battle has resumed in the lands we abandoned.
Along the Seine,
battle has resumed despite the truces.
Our sovereign will not move to keep his royal oath.
Do you recall, Master Jean?
We saw those lands after Reims.
Yes, Lady Joan, do you recall? It was beautiful.
- The villagers. - Good people.
They gave us food, water and bread.
All those petals against the sky. I remember.
Do you recall us dancing?
It was lovely.
We left them to the Burgundians and the English.
They said they'd massacre them,
men, women and even children.
Lady Joan, that's not your fault. Don't think about it.
But I do!
We can try to remedy it now.
I have decided that we shall try.
- But how? - The king will pass soon.
I'll beg him to rescue his people.
He won't do it.
Then I'll go without him.
What?
After leading the royal army,
a marauder like La Hire?
He beat the English in Normandy.
Have you considered the danger?
Yes, and I've made up my mind.
Lady Joan,
you'll know misfortune as a marauder. Don't do it.
I hear your words.
But I've decided to lead a band.
Enough, I'm weary of reasoners and reasoning.
There are towns across the Seine that are with us.
We must not betray their trust.
They're in danger.
I shall go to help them. And that's final.
And your voices?
I shall welcome the advice of my sisters in Heaven.
But should our Lord not wish it, I shall fight without their advice.
All those who wish to leave with me will be welcome.
The others can stay.
I'll leave and fight alone if need be.
God will do with me as He wants.
You won't leave alone. I'll go with you.
Some will come, others will stay.
But we won't be alone.
- Shall I tell them? - Let me see the king first
to ask if he'll rescue his people.
He won't budge.
And if he'll send someone.
He'll send no one.
In that case, Lady Joan,
you're as sure as I am that the king won't march.
I never said that. We can only be sure of the past.
But you know the king.
My prayer to our king today
is the greatest honour I can pay
and I hope it won't be the last.
Not my business.
The king's mass is beginning. I must leave.
Tell Brother Jean to come.
Later. Tell Brother Jean he must write.
Oh my God
Give me the strength I need
To give strength to the king
With my words
I shall tell him
"Majesty, have mercy on the people
On the people who sang
When you passed by
Majesty, have mercy on the people
Who love you
The foul English
Will launch the attack
On towns that opened their gates when you passed
Majesty, have mercy on the towns that love you"
Majesty, I beseech you.
Speak,
my child.
You know how pleased I am with what you've done
for the good of the realm.
Do you need a favour for your dear village of Domrémy?
Do you need a favour
for your parents whom I already ennobled?
No, it's about the towns the English will attack...
Leave it.
Joan...
leave it,
my child.
You know how pleased I am
with what you've done for the realm.
You have the right to rest now,
my child.
It's time to rest at last.
You must rest.
I want that.
Now, oh Lord, have mercy on me.
I leave to begin the battle alone.
It's over.
All he did was feint again.
I'm so unhappy.
Can you please write, father?
Yes, Lady Joan.
Do you wish to write letters?
Like His Majesty then.
He sent letters this morning.
- To whom? - The towns beyond the Seine.
One for the city of Reims.
He tells them not to be afraid for he thinks of them.
He thinks of them!
To whom shall I write for you?
Write, father.
"To my dear, good friends,
the clergy,
burghers and people of Orléans."
Fancy...
To Orléans?
But the English aren't there.
Write, father.
"My dear, good friends,
if you recall the battles we fought together in your region,
please send post-haste to the town of Melun..."
The king isn't going to Melun.
But I am, father.
"...post-haste to the town of Melun
all disposable powder, saltpetre,
sulphur, darts, crossbows
and other arms of war."
Eleven months later. Late February 1431.
One of the first sessions of the trial.
Royal chapel, the castle in Rouen. 7:30 in the morning.
It's you, my brother! How are you today?
I'm well, master.
You're here early. The session doesn't begin until 8.
I know, master.
However, Master Nicolas l'Oiseleur,
I must see someone before the session begins.
So speak to me, Brother.
I have to say I understand nothing,
nothing at all,
about what we're doing in this trial.
A heretic is a heretic.
No need to look at a man twice to see if he's a heretic.
A trial for heresy is a trial for heresy.
I know what a trial for heresy is.
I've done enough trials for heresy in my life.
In a trial for heresy, you take the heretic,
you judge him, you condemn him, you burn him
and God sends his soul to Hell.
That's that, it's done right away.
You forget, brother, that we never burn anyone.
The Church cannot abide bloodshed.
We abandon heretics to the secular arm
and ask it to implement the sentence
to be less than death or dismemberment.
Yes, my master.
We know what all those formalities mean.
Even so, the trial of this woman,
or girl... What is she?
This girl, brother.
Even so, the trial of this girl
is not like a trial for heresy.
We shall give her a good trial, a fair trial,
that will make her renounce her heresy and her sin.
So, we have no fear in summoning as assessors
people favourable to the accused.
For example,
Master Fidèle Pierret.
Then...
when the prodigal child is back under the Father's roof,
when the lost child returns to the good and holy Church,
Mother of us all,
when, finally,
we have the joy of recovering the lost sheep
and returning her to the divine Shepherd,
if someone accuses us
of humiliating the Church through this trial,
of humiliating the Church through our persons,
he will remember, my brother,
that our Divine Master humiliated Himself seeking lost souls
and we shall humbly ask forgiveness
for having dared to imitate Him in His humility.
I was not seeking such a long explanation.
You always have excellent reasons.
But I have an instinct that is worth much more
because it is righteous.
I say that this is a dishonest
and ill-advised undertaking.
You must no longer count on me for this task.
If today's session resembles the first ones,
I shall not be seen there again.
Adieu, master.
I leave you with your accomplices.
Goodbye, brother.
Goodbye.
Master, I salute you respectfully.
Hello, master.
I've come to ask you about the trial.
I am respectfully at your service.
But the session is about to begin.
Is it true, master,
that, in her cell, the accused
is chained hand and foot?
I must confess that I have no idea.
It's a detail that, in my opinion, does not concern us.
She is not held in a Church jail.
We only deal with her when she is before us.
That's true.
But why not leave the honour of doing it
to our bountiful mother, the illustrious University of Paris?
I think we shall consult it respectfully, master.
But could we have formed elsewhere
such a fine assembly of eminent men?
I don't mean Lord Pierre Cauchon. You know who he is.
You know of his considerable services to the synod,
the council and the embassies
for our dreaded lord, the King of England and France,
and our Burgundian ally.
True.
Try to consider
that we are at least twelve doctors in theology,
that we are at least five doctors in civil and cannon law...
Consider that we are at least
six or seven bachelors in theology,
several graduates in civil law, as many in canon law...
All that forms a fine gathering.
True.
Rank is not everything.
But one cannot deny that most of the assessors
have an excellent personal situation
and are perhaps worth more than that situation.
Take, for example, those arriving for this morning's session.
I don't know them all.
This is Jean Beaupère with two friends,
Nicolas Midi on his right
and Guillaume Evrard on his left.
They are in Rouen for the illustrious University of Paris.
All three are not only men who earned their rank brilliantly.
They are also men of the utmost worth.
Master Guillaume Evrard is a man
of prodigious eloquence.
Master Jean Beaupère was a rector.
Master Guillaume Evrard was a rector last year.
If those two men hadn't come to enlighten us
in this place,
they would now be at the synod in Basel,
shining brightly among the doctors of Christendom.
See this man slowly approaching,
still young, alone, timid and with his eyes lowered...
He is not yet thirty
yet even we, his elders,
listen to him respectfully when he consents to advise us.
You can tell he's someone.
Master Thomas de Courcelles will bring our university fame.
It is a great consolation for those who are ageing
to see,
among younger men, those who will grow to replace them.
Isn't that man English?
He is an English cleric.
Master William Haiton.
The only English cleric who is an assessor for the trial.
Isn't our Mother the Church glorious for being universal
and ignoring human distinctions between England and France?
The session is about to begin.
Here is the bishop, accompanied by the prosecutor.
And, to their left, Master Jean de la Fontaine, I believe.
I'll leave you with them.
Thank you for the information I requested of you.
You see,
this trial interests me.
I wish to follow the sessions with close attention.
I have to admit that, occasionally, the accused's replies
show great common sense.
That is precisely what is so dangerous for her.
That common sense is merely human.
It is far from divine truths
and may well conceal them from her.
Your Grace, I humbly salute you.
Good day, my son. What is new this morning?
Your Grace, Brother Mathieu Bourat
refuses to be an assessor.
Why is that, my friend?
Because his soul is proud, father.
Too proud.
He will not sink to saving with us, by the humblest means,
the soul and body of this girl and all those she outraged.
That was no reason not to greet me
when we passed him.
I fear that he may be an evil spirit
and risk his eternal life in this misadventure.
It would be a misfortune
because I admire his strength and his solidity.
Is there any other news, my son?
Yes...
Master Fidèle Pierret is starting to worry me.
Why, my friend?
He follows sessions with scrupulous attention.
We are fortunate
to have such conscientious assistants with us.
He plans to follow them all, but that is not what scares me.
I'm listening, my friend.
His soul is gentle, so gentle, father.
He will never agree
to treat this fatally imperilled soul
with the strong methods that would prove effective.
Really, my friend? That is a pity.
It's a pity that such an excellent man should be so weak.
He is one of those of which I am the fondest,
for he is so respectful.
No...
But it is also comforting to have with one
for holy undertakings
zealous assistants like you.
Not a day goes by, my sons,
without me praying to God, our Father in Heaven,
for him to grant you, as eternal consolation,
the consolation that you bring me every day.
Your Grace.
My Lord Jean Massieu, you may fetch the accused.
Very good, Your Grace.
Before I forget...
It is no longer necessary
to summon to sessions
Brother Mathieu Bourat and Master Fidèle Pierret.
Very good, Your Grace.
My brothers, I wanted to work with you this morning...
I wanted to work with you again
to save the soul of this girl
for the greater glory of God, our Lord,
and for the defence of our Holy Mother, the Catholic Church.
I shan't be able to.
More urgent pious duties require my presence elsewhere.
But I shall not leave you
without praying with you.
My brothers,
I ask Master Jean de la Fontaine,
Master of Arts and graduate in canon law,
to continue the cross-examination in my stead.
Your Grace, the accused.
Let her wait a moment.
You will make sure, if you please, my son,
this morning's session lasts less than three hours.
You will finish by 11 at the latest.
We shall begin again this evening and I shall be here.
My brothers,
let us implore the Holy Spirit within us,
the Spirit that will be able to find the perfect sentence
on Judgement Day
with its unconditional judgement.
Let us beseech it to enlighten us
to make as perfect as possible
the human sentence
that we will be obliged to pronounce during this trial,
our poor and humble human sentence.
Father, we humbly beseech you
not to leave us before gracing us with your blessing.
If it can comfort you in this ordeal, my son...
Now, my Lord Jean Massieu, you may show in the accused.
Until this evening, my sons.
Sit down.
As you stand accused before us,
in our capacity as judges,
we shall require you to take the usual oath again.
Do you swear on the Holy Scriptures
to answer our questions with the truth,
the whole truth and nothing but the truth?
But what will you ask?
You may ask questions that I won't wish to answer.
Well then, if she doesn't wish to answer,
I expressly request
that the judge declare her a heretic,
without debate, by default,
and leave her to the secular arm.
And, just as expressly, I request
that the judge declare heretic, along with her,
the man she calls her king.
Wait!
Why attack my king?
Because he followed you in his battles and his counsel!
First, what do you mean by the secular arm?
The English.
What for?
To burn you, so we hear nothing more about you.
And once you have been burned,
everyone will see it was true,
that you were a heretic.
And everyone will see that it was also true
that the man you called your king was a heretic as well.
And everyone will know
that he will always be
a heretic.
I'll take the oath.
I'll swear to tell the truth about what concerns men.
That's good, my child.
I'll tell you that.
But everything our Lord God told me personally
you will not know.
You won't know a word of it,
even if you behead me, as it's not your concern.
Why is she so brazen
with her judges?
Why does she look them in the eye?
In France,
we look at people we talk to,
even the Emperor Charlemagne.
Those who don't do so are not good people.
- They dissemble. - The English are more respectful.
Well,
will you take the oath to tell us all you know
about faith?
I'll swear to tell the truth
when it concerns the Christian faith.
My lord, please bring the Holy Scriptures.
I swear to tell the truth
when it concerns the Christian faith.
When you were at your parents', what did you do?
I worked at home.
I helped my mother clean and spin.
You won't find a woman in Rouen
who spins better than me.
Joan,
if you were a good worker,
why abandon a woman's work?
There were women for that work,
but only I could do the work I wanted to do.
You hid your departure from your parents.
When they heard you had left,
that you had deceived them,
their love for you caused them great pain.
They forgive me.
Yet they suffered
then.
They forgive me that suffering.
Did your voices
order you to lie and disobey?
You won't know that.
It's my concern alone.
Before attacking the English,
you wrote several times
that God had ordered you to hound them out of France.
It wasn't wrong to write that as it was true.
That meant shedding Christian blood.
I never shed it.
You had a sword.
I never used it to shed Christian blood.
I had my standard in battle.
I loved it more than my sword.
You ordered your followers to kill the English.
I ordered them to approach them bravely, as I did too.
If they were killed, it was their fault. This wasn't their land.
Did your voices order you to kill the English?
None of your concern.
She thought her prayer had more effect
than that of others.
I prayed my best
and Our Lord answered my prayer when He wished to.
Why did you put on men's clothing?
When she wanted the opposite of what she ordered in her letters,
she used the sign of the Cross.
Why did she leap from the keep,
endangering her soul
to escape her temporal prison?
Wait, my lords.
Don't all talk at once.
Why dress as a man?
To do a man's work,
with men,
it was best.
You insist on dressing the same in prison,
although the Church forbids it.
What is your Church?
God gave me the task that made me dress as a man.
I shall dress so until that work is complete.
Did your voices order you to dress as a man?
- None of your concern! - Thomas de Courcelles
asked if it's true that you used the sign of the Cross,
a divine sign, in your letters
to fool those reading them.
If it's divine, I did well to use it for God's orders.
And not to tell another lie?
The English wanted to read my letters.
They had no right. My letters were for the French.
A lie is a lie and is always forbidden.
I'm not a liar!
You may not have lied often, child.
Master Evrard
asked why you risked your soul
by jumping from Beaurevoir keep.
The English wanted to attack Compiègne,
put it to fire and the sword,
and even massacre children.
That didn't concern you if your voices hadn't spoken.
None of your concern.
She feared being handed to the English.
I feared being handed to the English.
For temporal goals,
you risked the salvation of your soul and body.
- You must hate the English... - I hate no one!
So, does God hate them?
Of God's love or hate for the English,
I know nothing and don't want to.
But they will be hounded out of France,
less those who die first!
The Holy Spirit's prophecy?
It's not a prophecy, it's what will happen!
Prophets say the same.
Do your voices make you a prophet?
None of your concern.
You won't admit your two escape attempts were culpable.
Until my work is complete, I shall try to escape,
by every means, to complete it.
So, right now, you are trying to escape?
I must always try to escape.
I warn you, if I succeed now,
you can't say I lost my faith.
Why did you fight before Paris
on the Nativity of our Mother,
the blessed Virgin Mary?
It was the best day for God's order.
He probably didn't agree as He let you lose.
Did your voices expressly order you to attack that day?
None of your business!
Why didn't she content herself
with praying to God for her king's victory?
In France, when we have a task to do,
we try to carry it out ourselves.
"God helps those who help themselves."
The English are more respectful.
After they pray, they wait.
There were too many misfortunes to wait.
Why did she think God preferred her
to all the captains serving her king?
It pleased Him to choose a simple shepherdess.
If it was true God had chosen you
to bring victory
to your king,
He wouldn't have abandoned you to defeat.
God has given me victory,
given me wounds, given me defeat and given me prison!
Do you know, child, if He will give you death?
I think I shall die.
Do you know, child,
what death He will give you?
I don't, but His will can decide.
Do you know, child,
if He will give you eternal death?
I don't, but I pray He saves me from eternal death.
No heretic has ever been asked that!
Come, Joan...
We really must agree once and for all.
You claim, Joan, that you are sent by God.
That's easy to say, but you must give us proof of it.
All those God truly sent to this earth,
the holy prophets and His son,
made sure to give us proof,
to prove that they had been sent,
sent by God.
Yet there are two ways of having proof.
There's proof if God's envoys
carry out obvious miracles on their own,
and there's proof if God's envoys
are clearly announced in the Holy Gospels.
Joan, I have just read again all the Holy Gospels.
I found not one word announcing you.
But the Antichrist is mentioned.
You interpret my words, master, in a way I did not intend
and ask a question I don't want to ask yet.
Read your books, masters.
My God has more books than the doctors.
We're sorry, Joan,
but the books we are talking about are those of our God.
It's the Book of God,
the only one we know to be His,
the only one His Spirit dictated to men and for men.
For men!
The only one announcing the glory and suffering
of His Son.
I read in that book
that the heavenly host sang, "Peace on earth to men of good will."
But I didn't see it say to wage war on earth
on men of bad will.
Moreover, you have never worked any obvious miracles.
Never one miracle.
I've never given any signs?
The release of Orléans! The battles I won!
They're my proof and signs. They're my proof!
If your victories were signs,
aren't your defeats signs too?
Don't they prove you are no longer
God's envoy?
Your victories aren't signs.
They were mostly won by means
that seem to be human means to me.
And the possible wondrous nature of them
can be explained by the help of infernal forces.
I don't know those forces.
They are skilled at passing for the forces of Heaven.
I said my voices do not concern you!
Yes, you've said that and said it often.
Always with the same vivacity.
It seems your voices haven't given you good advice
since you react so sharply every time.
It's none of your concern!
You see.
Why has your so-called king abandoned you?
None of the Faith's concern.
Did he realize you're a heretic?
No, I'm a good Christian.
In that case,
why has your king abandoned you?
I'm not a heretic.
I'm a good Christian.
So, he's a bad Christian for abandoning a good one.
He's a good Christian!
A good Christian,
but a bad king?
He's a good king who will save his realm.
And you, Joan,
do you have a request for us?
I wanted to ask,
as this is a Church tribunal, to be held in a Church jail.
I demand that she not be held in a Church jail
since she refuses to submit to the Church
all that she has done.
What exactly do you call the Church?
It's the communion of the faithful
who follow the true religion instituted by our Lord, Jesus Christ,
guided by legitimate priests.
I don't understand all that.
I don't think it can be better put, Joan.
Is the Church Christendom?
No, those two words don't have the same meaning.
I don't understand.
The Church wants you to be a good Christian.
You can only belong to the Church if you're a good Christian.
Then I belong to the Church as a good Christian.
I want to stay one.
I won't go against the Christian faith.
In that case, submit to the Church
all you've done.
I ask no better, sir.
You submit all you've done to the Church?
Yes, sir, I will.
All without exception?
Without exception.
No exception?
No exception.
On condition, of course,
we don't mention what God
said and ordered to me alone.
But that cannot be a problem.
Since you refuse to submit entirely to the Church
we cannot
and must not
put you in a Church jail.
Then I beg you, let me receive the Host.
I demand,
since she refuses to submit entirely to the Church,
that she not be allowed
to receive the Host.
Wait, prosecutor.
Joan,
will you submit to the Church all you've done
unreservedly?
For the last time,
will you serve the Church, Mother of us all
unreservedly?
I'll serve the Church
if our Lord is served first.
We despair of you, child!
You will not submit entirely to the Church,
so we cannot accept you among those of the Church
to receive the Host.
Do you desire
to receive the Host, Joan?
Yes, sir.
Do you truly desire it?
Yes, sir, I truly desire it.
God be praised. Let us give Him thanks,
you and all of us!
Give Him thanks for this desire you still have.
You must still have
some reserves of divine love
alive and desiring of the Lord
despite your lengthy frequentation of accursed souls,
which sorely tested you.
God be praised. That is how we'll save you.
My voices don't concern you.
Joan, I promise we'll save you.
Then I beg you, for once,
grant me permission to go to mass.
You see we'll save you.
I demand that, for now, she does not attend mass.
For the same reasons,
we cannot grant you that.
Then do as you wish.
I don't need you to have mass.
My God will give me one, since He created mass.
No, Joan!
All that's written is, "Do that in memory of me."
It is not written anywhere that Jesus would repeat
the divine sacrifice of the Last Supper.
Could we perhaps hear her confession?
I demand not.
We clearly cannot hear her confession
as she has placed herself outside the Church.
God's mysterious kindness knows no bounds.
She may place herself outside the Church,
but God may well have done her the favour
and grace of being unable to succeed.
So, she doesn't need us.
Why are we here?
If she's not a heretic, then she needs the Church
as a sinner.
It's obvious Joan is not in a state of grace.
Joan...
Do you think you're in a state of grace?
That question is too hard!
No one has ever asked a heretic that!
If I am, God preserve me. If not, let Him place me there.
Those are
very fine feelings, Joan.
I always thought we'd save you.
Your question, Master Nicolas l'Oiseleur,
was not one that we ask.
Your proposition, however charitable,
cannot be accepted.
As long as the accused refuses to submit entirely to the Church,
no one, unless they place themselves outside the Church too,
can hear her confession.
The Sacrament would be worthless
and also sacrilegious.
Let us keep working, masters.
Shortly before mid-May, 1431. Two and a half months later.
No good, my boy.
If you want to replace me one day
and become a court proctor and torturer,
you need to work harder.
Do you have enough water?
You know she's not big.
- Who isn't? - The one we're working on.
It doesn't matter. You don't know the job well yet.
You've no idea how much water a heretic's body can contain.
Hurry up now.
Fill half a bucket.
I'll fetch it.
The tools are clean.
Everything works.
You've done it well.
A lot of gentlemen will be visiting us today.
So, this is good.
However,
there's a buckle missing for the rack.
Master François Brasset said he'd bring it by 8 o'clock.
Master François Brasset...
He needs to hurry a little.
It will soon strike 8.
The room has been swept.
You can't count on these locksmiths for tools.
By the way, when we start the session,
make sure you stand behind me.
Don't move, stay calm
and don't fool around.
What we're doing today is serious.
Here we are, Master Mauger.
We're on time.
We're never late.
Indeed, Master François, but I worry.
I hate the idea of doing a bad job.
Yes, indeed, I hate a bad job too.
Look what I bring you.
A pretty buckle. A job well done.
It is well done.
But it must be attached to the rack.
The chain, master.
Yes, we'll ask Master Mauger. The chain...
The chain's not ours.
It's not yours?
No, it's not ours.
It's not to torment her, it's to keep her calm in jail.
Who do I ask about the chain?
It's none of my concern.
I don't believe this.
Worse than with the French!
I'll wait for my lord. He'll know
at least.
You have a lot of tools.
Yes, indeed, you have a lot of tools.
All this.
You know, Master François, I may not need to use them.
Really? Why not?
Master Evrard is preaching to her today.
And, you know, that man
just by speaking, is a lot better than I am.
Better than I am with all my tools.
Really? I'm surprised.
After all, you know your trade.
He's better.
Better, I say.
And I've converted plenty of heretics!
You do your job well.
I'm surprised this man can do it better.
My God, yes, no doubt about it.
You have fine tools,
but a dirty job.
I know.
Why pick such a job?
Why not be a locksmith?
An apprentice five years,
a journeyman five years,
then make a masterpiece to be a locksmith.
It's not my fault.
- Why? - Because
the apprenticeship cost too much.
The other craftsmen didn't want me.
Mother wanted me to have a job, so found me this apprenticeship.
I didn't mean to offend.
It's a dying trade.
The things you see nowadays...
Questioners spoiling the work...
Clumsy fools who kill heretics without saving them...
When all you do is kill people,
don't become a questioner.
Be a soldier, an executioner. Plenty of choice.
Don't pick a job where you need
to keep people breathing as long as possible.
Boy, instead of listening, fetch the water.
It's a job that takes courage.
Often, my heart isn't in my work.
The main thing in life is doing your job properly
and not something else. It's important.
She should have been happy just doing her job.
What was it?
She kept cows.
So, she should have kept them
and been content. Rather than bother us.
Right...
His Grace is here
- with Nicolas l'Oiseleur. - Good.
- Finished, Lucien? - Yes, master.
What impresses you most, Master Mauger?
It's hard to compare, Master François.
It depends on the person. The boot causes sharper pain,
deeper, falser and more deceptive.
It strikes the heart and one can feel it better.
With water,
the pain is broader, more disturbing, more invasive.
It's like drowning, only you can breathe after.
Very interesting.
Your Grace.
Good day, my friends.
Your Grace, what should I do with this chain?
Master Mauger couldn't tell me.
It doesn't concern him.
It doesn't concern me either,
as the accused is not in the Church's jails.
You should speak to John Gris,
equerry to His Majesty the King.
He is the person
in charge of watching over the accused.
Thank you kindly, Your Grace.
Well, Master Mauger,
is everything ready for your task?
Yes, Your Grace, with good will too.
Go upstairs, my friend.
- To the upper chamber? - Yes.
When we need you, my Lord Jean Massieu will fetch you.
We remain humbly at your service.
Your Grace, I'm sure we shall finish soon.
May God hear you, my friend.
I personally couldn't hope to succeed
if the accused weren't prepared,
if she weren't afraid for once.
That is why I asked you
to kindly arrange today's session.
Will she be afraid today?
I do not think she can escape
the blessed terror that will allow us to save her.
Her replies have been very arrogant recently, my son.
Precisely, father.
For she could feel, in her body and soul,
the rise of invincible fear.
So be it, my son.
The torment will complete the terror of her body.
And Master Evrard, that of her soul.
That man is prodigiously eloquent.
Today, he has taken the liberty of dressing as a preacher.
Is that permitted?
He is so eloquent, dressed like that.
Good day, my son.
Good day, master.
- Good day, my son. - Good day, master.
- Your Grace... - My lord.
Good day, my lords.
I await your orders, Your Grace.
Do you know if Master Evrard will be much longer?
I saw him arriving.
- Then fetch the accused. - Very good, Your Grace.
Good day.
- Welcome, my son. - Your Grace...
- Master... - Good day, master.
Your eloquence is welcome among us.
- Your Grace. - Brother...
- Master. - Father.
Your Grace, here is the accused.
Let her wait a second, my friend.
Let us pray, my sons, for God to bless our work.
May He bless in particular the caution
given to the accused
by our beloved Master Guillaume Evrard.
Today, Joan, for the last time, we are going to ask you...
Ask me no more.
Why, my child?
I shall not say another word.
I have already given my answers.
You do not wish to recant the answers given?
- I told you, I stand by them. - Very good.
We know what that means.
Good, if you know. But I must warn you
that you will pay a high price for the work you do.
There is no need to threaten us, my child.
Your threats do not scare us
for one has no idea what fear is
when one is truly at God's service.
We forgive your threats, my child.
We forgive them as it is written,
"Forgive us our trespasses
as we forgive those who trespass against us."
But nowhere is it written
that we must forgive those who offend God
so that God may forgive us in turn.
We forgive you, Joan,
most willingly,
for your trespasses against us.
But we have no capacity, my child,
to forgive you for your trespasses against God.
And we do not even know
if God himself could forgive you
until you have disowned them.
To force her to disown them,
I demand that the judge have her put to the question.
Come, my child...
The questioner is up above.
The questioner is up above,
but there is still time.
For the last time,
will you disown
your answers?
Even if you behead me and smash my limbs,
I swear I shall not renounce
a word I said.
We shall see about that, my child.
Lord Jean Massieu, fetch the questioner.
Mister Questioner...
Even if you make me renounce what I said,
it won't help you.
And, after, I'll say that if I renounced,
I did so out of fear and it won't count.
In that case,
since the soul of the accused
is so hardened and corrupted
that she refuses to submit to the remedy,
I demand that the judge declare her a heretic
forthwith and then abandon her to the secular arm
so that she be burned and go to Hell.
Yes, to Hell!
She will go to Hell
with
the lost souls
With the condemned
and the abandoned
She will go
to Hell
with the lost souls
When the straw
in Hell
will fly off
lightly
Your body will fly off
so that the fire
may consume it
That will mark the start
of boundless Eternity
Amid the crazed screams
of those burning alive
Amid the crazed screams
of those flayed alive
Amid the crazed clamour
of the panicking damned
Amid the screams
of all the tortured souls
And the crazed screams
of eternal suffering
And the crazed screams
of eternal prayers
Will be like silence
before the flood of suffering
Drowned like silence
before the flood of suffering
For your death
everlasting
is a death
that lives on
A life unkillable
undoable
and mad
And eternity
will be like silence
The same day. In the English jails.
- First time here? - Yes.
- Know what to do? - I've kept prisoners before.
This one's different.
She is?
I heard she cost a lot.
We have to watch her.
Really? Why?
She's a witch.
They say that?
Yes.
She isn't with St Michael?
Fighting St George to please St Michael
put her in jail.
Saints are like that.
Yes, they are.
Lads...
Master Maussois left me five or six bottles.
- Where? - Below.
In the vault. I can't drink them alone.
We won't let you. Why did he give them to you?
Master Maussois wanted to see the girl.
As I was on guard duty,
I let him in on the sly.
Good move.
Let's enjoy it.
She might escape.
No chance.
There's no real way out.
She's a witch.
If she was a witch,
she'd have escaped by now.
What if John Gris comes?
We'll watch out. He's no wizard.
Come on...
It's high time they burned her.
- Come on. - Let's drink.
Give it a rest! It sounds like you're not alone.
It's not my fault you're mad. Here's light if you're scared.
Early in the second-to-last week of May 1431.
Just over a week later.
His Grace allows me, my child,
to say a few words to you,
on my responsibility.
I wish to say a few words
that are charitable, amicable,
familiar and simple,
in an unaffected manner.
Please hear me out. I shall be brief.
Please do not try to give me...
Please listen to me without interrupting.
The discussions have lasted long enough and they are over.
Please do not try
to give me an answer
because the cross-examination lasted long enough
and it is now over.
Your trial is over, my child.
We can do no more to save you.
And I even wonder
if we were right to spend so much time with you
when there are so many souls to save.
Tomorrow, we conclude the case.
Tomorrow, we give our sentence
and then conclude in order to implement that sentence.
Until then, my child,
think hard.
Think of the life you have led so far.
Think of the life you can still lead.
Now, Joan, it's up to you...
to you alone...
to save yourself.
You are henceforth
the one and only judge.
Tomorrow,
you will tell us
what sentence to give.
Tomorrow, you will tell us
what sentence to give
and how we shall conclude
in order to implement that sentence.
Until then, my child,
think hard
about this new life that you have made.
Think of your new life.
I'm sure you wanted to live a good life,
but I do not think a life of falsehood can be a good life.
I recall that you prolonged the war.
Yes, you alone prolonged the war in your dear Lorraine.
Think hard, child. You have a day to think.
Tomorrow, you will tell us if you'll go where Master Evrard sends you.
Or if you want to begin your human life again,
begin a new life, a brand-new life.
You're not yet twenty.
There's still time to give your life to God.
It would be almost a whole life, a life...
a new life, another life.
Of all we can do here below.
My child,
only in tears and prayers
can we be sure of never being mistaken.
Come, my child...
Have mercy on yourself and on us.
Think
of God,
who made you to be faithful to His Church.
Think
of Jesus,
Your Saviour,
and
do not give Him the anguish
of knowing
that He died in vain for you.
Think of that, my child,
during this day of retreat that awaits you.
Come...
We'll pray for you one last time.
The same day. As evening falls.
The same thing all day?
Yes, since this morning.
I saw her walk sometimes, but she's not moving now.
I preferred it when she talked alone. It was company.
- It's our last day. - It depends.
What? I heard they'll burn her tomorrow.
It depends...
- What does it depend on? - Her.
If she says she was right, they'll burn her.
If she was wrong, they won't.
- Yeah? - It's not good.
Burned, she mocks us.
If we don't burn her, we look like suckers.
You're not wrong.
I'd prefer to see her burned.
It's taking too long.
I'd prefer her to burn too, but you can't have it all.
That's true.
His Grace must have considered that.
May 24th, the next day.
She's been here so long, they should make their minds up.
I've seen more cases than you.
I told Maussois to let us know once it's over.
He's French, but a decent fellow.
We can count on him to let us know.
When he helped, we weren't afraid.
He'll remember.
I think he's coming.
We'll see.
Good day, lads.
Well?
You can go back on guard duty.
They didn't burn her?
It makes me sick.
Why wasn't she burned?
No idea. There was a big crowd.
- At the cemetery? - Yes. There were two stakes.
There was a big crowd and even England's cardinal.
There were too many people.
I hate it when heretics burn. They smell of burned fat.
Well, she wasn't burned.
The executioner was ready with his cart.
But she got scared and signed a paper so as not to be burned.
- She's coming back. - A waste of time.
My wife had put on her best Sunday dress.
In the crush, it got all spoiled.
What did people say when she wasn't burned?
The English weren't pleased.
I bet.
Some even kicked up a fuss.
That's not like them.
And the French?
Some were upset, coming all that way for nothing.
Rightly so.
A lot were pleased,
saying she's a nice girl.
A lot said she's nice.
They'd have cried if she'd burned.
Fancy.
Some say she's a saint.
Really?
But don't tell anyone.
- No chance. - I told Martin
burning her was no use.
If she was a heretic,
she'd just start sooner.
If she was a saint, she'd go straight to Heaven
and pray for us.
You're a smart one.
Here they come.
I have to go.
Wednesday, May 30th, 1431. One week later.
Lady Joan...
Now that you have taken Communion,
we must hurry, Lady Joan.
They're so impatient.
You must not be angry with me
if your female clothes were taken and replaced by male clothes.
And, Lady Joan,
don't be angry either if I tell you to hurry.
The thing is...
Will you leave me a moment
to say my last prayer?
I'll gladly do that if you don't take too long.
As soon as I finish, I'll come out to leave.
Lady Joan, for the trouble, you'll pray for me too.
Yes.
Oh my God
Since Rouen must now become
my home
Listen to my prayer
I beseech you to kindly accept this prayer
As being truly my own personal prayer
Because, later on, I'm not quite sure
Of what I shall do
When I'm on the street
And on the square
Of what I shall say
Forgive me
Forgive us all
For the harm I've done
But I know that I was right to serve you
We were right to serve you thus
My voices didn't mislead me
However, try to save us all, my God
Jesus, save us all
For eternal life