rsuade her to repentance. And when
he apprised her of the death she was to die that day, she began to cry
out grievously, to give way, and tear her hair: 'Alas! am I to be
treated so horribly and cruelly? must my body, pure as from birth, and
which was never contaminated, be this day consumed and reduced to ashes?
Ha! ha! I would rather be beheaded seven times over than be burned on
this wise! Oh! I make my appeal to God, the great judge of the wrongs
and grievances done me!'"

After this burst of grief, she recovered herself and confessed; she then
asked to communicate. The brother was embarrassed; but, consulting the
Bishop, the latter told him to administer the sacrament, "and whatever
else she might ask." Thus, at the very moment he condemned her as a
relapsed heretic, and cut her off from the Church, he gave her all that
the Church gives to her faithful. Perhaps a last sentiment of humanity
awoke in the heart of the wicked judge; he considered it enough to burn
the poor creature, without driving her to despair, and damning her.
Besides, it was attempted to do it privately, and the eucharist was
brought without stole and light. But the monk complained, and the Church
of Rouen, duly warned, was delighted to show what it thought of the
judgment pronounced by Cauchon; it sent along with the body of Christ
numerous torches and a large escort of priests, who sang litanies, and,
as they passed through the streets, told the kneeling people, "Pray for
her."

After partaking of the communion, which she received with abundance of
tears, she perceived the Bishop, and addressed him with the words,
"Bishop, I die through you." And, again, "Had you put me in the prisons
of the Church, and given me ghostly keepers, this would not have
happened. And for this I summon you to answer before God."

Then, seeing among the bystanders Pierre Morice, one of the preachers by
whom she had been addressed, she said to him, "Ah, Master Pierre, where
shall I be this evening?"

"Have you not good hope in the Lord?"

"Oh! yes; God to aid, I shall be in paradise."

It was nine o'clock: she was dressed in female attire, and placed on a
cart. On one side of her was brother Martin l'Advenu; the constable,
Massieu, was on the other. The Augustine monk, Brother Isambart, who had
already displayed much charity and courage, would not quit her.

Up to this moment the Pucelle had never despaired, with the exception,
perhaps, of her temptation in the