Original subtitles

The Girl Johanna The Virgin of Orleans

It happened 500 years ago in Orleans. A virgin had been chosen

to end the Hundred Years' War which had been ravaging in France.

When the suffering was at its worst, the miracle happened.

Stop that damned bitching.

It's been seven months now that we are besieging Orleans.

Seven months, my dear.

Whose fault is it?

Seven months.

Seven damned months.

It's not only because you've completely abandoned me, Burgundy,

but, to tell the truth, because you've betrayed me.

Because you've entered deliberations with that French beggar king

and his Armagnacs on your own instead of fulfilling your duty to your allies.

You... you...

You mean traitor, you...

You stuffed fat piece of garbage.

Conspiracy?

But that's Billy!

Dead.

Dead as a doornail.

Damned, you've stabbed to death one of my best men.

It's Billy!

Billy!

Billy doesn't hear you any more.

You can shout as much as you like.

Wherever your damned hand reaches, Burgundy, you cause nothing but disaster.

Willy was a good soldier.

One of my dearest.

Don't start crying.

I'll buy yourself another Billy, eh?

Here, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5.

Five?

For Billy?

He is worth at least 20.

His chest measured 3 foot 10 inches.

From the heel to the knee he measured 1 foot 7 inches.

Besides, he was a pious soul.

For the chest girth one pound more

and for the leg measure

one half,

but I won't give anything for his pious soul.

I haven't seen such a thing.

Besides, he's in paradise now.

What's this? Guards!

Don't panic, Burgundy.

This is a God-pleasing noise.

You know that the French and the English have complained to His Holiness the Pope because of his lenience towards the holy inquisition.

The French have burned 873 heretics last year

whereas we English have only managed to burn 307 so far.

Our people are angry about this.

They want to catch up.

What's the matter?

Your Lordship, I would like to report the results of my research.

The envoy sent by Charles of Valois from the city of Orleans, in order to negotiate the extension of the armistice...

is only a simple knight of his Majesty.

To me? The son of a laundress?

A direct descendant of William the Conqueror.

Lord John Talbot.

This Valois sends me the son of a laundress as negotiator?

But he's the dauphin's half-brother.

So the son of a whore.

My palanquin.

Miserable heretics repent of your wicked sins.

Renounce satan who has seduced you.

You lambs gone astray.

God have mercy on you.

Repent of your sins.

God have mercy on you.

Hey, priest! Next time hold your damned inquisitions outside the camp.

Go on, you damned wretches.

Miserable heretics, acknowledge the abomination of your sins.

Renounce satan who has seduced you.

Priest.

Your zeal is commendable.

Next time you'd better burn a few Englishmen.

Don't let it be said about our good France that we have too many heretics.

My lord, these heretics have earned the death by fire a thousand times.

- Because they said that this war was the devil's invention. - Is that so?

That's different.

Priest, I heard you you were going to burn a 17 year old girl too,

who's still a virgin.

Nobody will have any fun that way.

Your health, your lordship.

Did you keep the envoy of Charles of Valois under lock and key in there?

Yes, your lordship.

Your men are like prison guards.

Bring the envoy to me.

You're certainly angry.

Let him come here, the noble M. de Mallezais.

Son of a laundress.

I hope this reception isn't meant for me.

It's better not to speak of evil. I'm keeping 18 of them.

Sweet like march kittens.

I am the negotiator of his Holy Majesty,

King Charles Vll of France.

When I've accomplished my mission I'll report the insult...

Insult?

I have been insulted! I have!

M. Charles of Valois dares...

to sent to me, Lord Talbot...

the damned son of a laundress.

Seize him.

Go on, seize him.

You won't dare to touch the negotiator.

You'll regret this.

Bring the son of a whore to me.

The coxcomb, the wet dog,

and bring a coal basin.

Listen to me, M. de Maillezais.

Open your ears.

Tell your Lord of Valois

that Lord Talbot's patience is exhausted.

Tonight at midnight the damned armistice will cease.

Lord Talbot won't renew it, he won't!

Understood?

And for the damned insult your lord inflicted upon me my sending you

I'll send him a receipt at midnight

by attacking the quarter of St. Loup and raze it to the ground.

My patience is exhausted.

I'll destroy all Orleans.

I'll to wage war on everyone, king or horse, and a stab of the pike into the kidneys.

I am dead serious.

Do you understand, sir?

Say something, sir.

Can't you get your damned teeth open for a year? Are you too proud?

You'll see, I'll burn the message into you.

I'll burn a remembrance into your damned scull.

Hold him tight, the dog.

The goat, the postman.

This is my seal.

Seeing this on your front, M. Charles of Valois will be constantly reminded...

what he owes Lord Talbot.

Shame on you.

Well roared my boy.

There he runs like a poisoned rat.

Let him run.

By the way, you had just been speaking of pillaging the quarter of St. Loup.

I hope you'll remember our agreement,

that loot will belong to my soldiers.

But I've left you the damned quarter of St. Jean to plunder last week.

Your soldiers must have had their fill.

Now it's the turn of my soldiers.

St. Jean!

St. Jean!

What was there left to loot in St. Jean?

A piece of garbage, that's what it had been.

Not even enough young women to make it worth your while.

- It's my turn! - It's my turn!

- My turn! - My turn!

Back to Orleans.

Our lord has peppered his soup quite a bit.

Guards.

Who's there?

The password?

Parola Orleans.

Pull up the gate.

Where's your commanding officer?

In the name of his All-Christian Majesty the King of France,

pull up the bridge,

sound the alarm, fortify the guard.

What's the news?

There he comes riding in and spits on my nose.

Hey, sir!

The king owes us three months pay.

We won't lift a finger for those dirty Lignes.

Silence.

Halt!

Damned fools.

Halt!

I forbid you to sound the drum.

Sire, help me!

Help me!

The soldiers took away my child

and I'm searching and searching...

Did you hear? The king wants to abandon Orleans.

The king wants to abandon Orleans.

The king abandons Orleans.

Abandon the city?

Holy mother of God.

Away again... further away.

I'll stay, let them finish me off.

I won't shed any tears about my life.

The English are coming!

Get going.

Halt!

We want to the king.

Listen people, let's go to the king

and we'll ask him...

By my soul, but it's the alarm drums of La Tremouille.

Don't get exited, Duke some fool started it, now they all beat the drum out there.

One sheep jumps after the others

but we've agreed a cease-fire with Talbot and Burgundy.

Not any longer, La Tremouille!

- Good gracious. - Fiddlesticks.

Foolishness.

You can all shut up. I've raised the alarm.

Look to it, get up gentlemen, to your posts.

Talbot doesn't renew the cease-fire.

He doesn't renew it!

At midnight he'll attack St. Loup.

Attacks! Attacks! May God have pity on you, M. Maillezais.

Dreams of glory must have turned your head.

Ever since there had been an art of war

never has anybody started an attack at midnight.

If the attacks, by God, he'll attack.

The babblings of a child.

But what I'm telling you...

is the truth.

You don't have another hour for your pitiful advises.

How dare you have the alarm drums beaten?

I am commander of the city.

I am telling you that Talbot will attack the quarter of St. Loup at midnight.

800 poor citizens live there

not including the 2000 refugees from the country.

They will all be victims of the English if you don't prevent this.

Is that nothing?

It's not nothing, but it isn't much.

As to the citizens...

I know your weakness for the so-called people, Maillezais.

That scum won't become extinguished because of this, you can count on that.

When I ride through the forest I don't think about the ants and beetles and lice squeezed to death under my horse's hooves.

Ergo: foolishness.

Let his lordship have the shabby St. Loup, it's worthless anyway.

Have the reverse signal sounded.

You're sitting pretty because you haven't paid your soldiers.

Because you have pocketed France's whole treasure.

You're sitting comfortably, and you won't stop until there isn't an ounce of silver left anywhere, you...

You arch-knaves.

How dare you speak like that, Maillezais!

The lords of this territory and south of the Loire

are still we!

What about the king?

He's only the king at our pleasure, otherwise he'd be nothing at all.

If we go to war for him and his cause.

War? Bargaining, that's what you're doing.

You betray him, sell him,

steal of him, laugh at him,

make him look a fool.

What that dog of Burgundy doesn't devour, that you grab for yourselves.

You with your sharks' mouths. you'd even give away the last stronghold of Orleans,

if you could gain anything by it.

Holy foolishness!

He's about to have a fit, probably a heritage from his mother's side.

The people, the people... What are the people anyway?

A breed of lice.

And sometimes, as is seems...

they can become annoying.

From time to time, one must squeeze some of them.

If you advance another step, you insult his All-Christian Majesty the King of France.

Who lives here.

What do the good people want?

They want to speak to their good King, my lord.

The king?

Perhaps they'd prefer God.

What's the news? What did Talbot say? Did he renew the cease-fire?

No? So he doesn't want to. That's good.

If you want to fight... But my ministers and generals will send you packing.

Why don't you talk, what's that noise outside?

The people are asking for you.

They cry out for help from their king.

Ah, I want to cry out for help too.

Right now, just for 50 pieces of gold I've transferred to La Tremouille the whole county of Beaune.

Abandon Orleans?

My eyes.

Why do you need the money?

Why? You've guessed, haven't you.

To get away from here, from this disgusting trap.

I am not sure what La Tremouille intends to do with my person.

Look here.

The Talbot seal.

That's Talbot's answer to you.

How are you going to pay me for this?

I am blushing.

For the first time in my life I grow pale.

Even though I am used to shame.

Our father's heritage is grand:

he leaves us the kingdom, foreign rule, shame, humiliation.

Oh, I...

I have too many enemies.

The English are bad.

Burgundy is even worse.

But the worst are those who pretend to fight for me...

and are filling their own pockets meanwhile

my own vassals, those parasites, that scum.

I only have one friend, you.

But you don't understand me.

Right now you want revenge against Talbot, your eyes are full of blood.

But the moment's not right.

One must be able to wait for the right moment, that's what counts.

It's not enough to be in the right.

One must remain in the right.

I shall leave Orleans.

Your palanquin, sire.

I ask you to come with me.

I need you.

I'll throw myself into the people's arms.

No king has ever done that before.

I'll dare it.

Let's raise the southern provinces.

You'll recruit troops for me.

Do you hear?

The people have suffered much.

Suffering makes one wise.

I've come as far as that, I'll have to dare the utmost

to achieve the utmost.

I hear your reasons, but after all it's a shameful flight.

My God deliver us from all evil.

I know you don't trust me,

but I implore you to believe me just this once.

It is France's good fortune that I can see farther into the future than any of you

and it's my misfortune

not to be understood.

You've always thought me a coward,

but you'll learn from me.

Politics is the art to make use of occasions

without creating them.

You shall be assured

wherever I can seize the occasion

I'll seize it.

I'm afraid you're just fooling yourself.

Perhaps.

Perhaps that's the secret of all politics.

Come.

But that's Alencon's palanquin.

Yes sire, we couldn't find any other.

- Are the guards reliable? - Absolutely.

- You'll come! - Yes, I'll come.

He's her husband.

Holy Lord, free us of the nobles!

That's Nicholas.

What are you doing here?

What's the matter?

Answer me!

We're fishing, sir.

Fishing at night?

What are you fishing?

The dead.

Our dead,

sir.

What do you mean?

Explain to me.

The Duke of Alencon has had 100 of our men thrown into the river.

We've only come on our knees, to implore His Holy Majesty the king

not to abandon Orleans,

not to deliver Orleans to the enemy.

Then the Duke of Alencon

had had 100 of our men bound,

sir,

and had them thrown into the Loire.

In the name of His All-Christian Majesty,

for the benefit of France,

the king knows nothing about it.

He'll demand a justification of the Duke of Alencon.

The Duke of Alencon's palanquin.

The bloody duke.

Beat him to death, the bloody duke.

Murderer.

Merciful saviour, bells at midnight?

That's God's voice.

My king has come to me.

You see, John of Metz.

He has come to me, like the archangel Michael told me in my dream.

How do you know me?

It's extraordinary indeed.

The hour of the Angelus has long passed.

It is...

almost a miracle.

Would these good people really have torn me to pieces?

Wouldn't they have recognized their king before it had been too late?

Your All-Christian Majesty mustn't be angry.

Count Robert de Baudricourt sends me with this girl,

who kneels before his All-Christian Majesty,

the King of France.

You seem to be on good terms with the saints and the archangels.

Hmm?

Yes, Yes.

It seems indeed.

The people...

Didn't you say that the archangel Michael ordered you something?

What did he order?

Why do you wear men's clothes?

The girl says that...

Let me speak for myself, John of Metz.

My name is Joan, sire.

I've come from far away, from Domremy.

At our home in Lorraine there is war too, sire.

As long as I can remember there has been war,

nothing but war,

but on the day I turned 17 the dear holy archangel Michael appeared to me

and ordered me to leave and go to his All-Christian Majesty, the King of France.

Go, he said, dress like the men of war, and leave

and go to Beaucouleur, Joan.

I'll send good men to you

who'll take you to his All-Christian Majesty, the King of France.

Tell the king, that I want to help him through you, Joan, to free the good city of Orleans

and that you're to lead him afterwards to Reims to the coronation.

I have always said, God himself, as you can see...

If He wants, He can.

Even He seems to adhere to the principle

to await the occasion

I won't be put to shame by Him.

Did you hear?

God has had mercy on us and sends us a holy virgin

to save all of you including my person.

We ourselves bend our knee.

Why do you kneel before me, sire?

Not, that mustn't be.

My ministers and generals won't believe their eyes.

A holy virgin.

They won't be able to oppose that.

Now they're beaten.

Come, Joan.

Where will you lead me, sire?

Don't you trust me?

Are you afraid?

I am not afraid,

because now I know all will be well.

City hall.

Back to the city hall.

You know the girl.

Is true that God sent her to us?

Answer me, sir.

By the holy body of our Lord Jesus Christ,

I am telling you,

she's God's own daughter.

Did you see the halo?

There had been a halo around her head.

A bright halo.

Just like the image of the holy Catherine in St. Titus.

We've met English troops.

I swear, the English rode by.

They couldn't see us,

because we had been covered by a cloud.

The king has ridden to the city hall with the virgin.

Let's go to the city hall.

By the holy cross, follow me.

To the city hall.

The English are marching towards St. Loup.

Why the hurry? I see here's something to laugh about.

His Holy Majesty the King of France has discovered a virgin who can work miracles.

That's just what we needed!

I'll give you a good piece of advice, my friends, since you seem to have lost your mind at the moment.

It will remain eternally mystifying to me if you ever had possessed one at all.

But believe me, every minute you lose until you understand what's going on, will cost you more than you have ever lent to me.

What's the meaning of that, sire?

Do you mean to tell me that you don't want to pay your debts?

Exactly, La Tremouille.

When the wind turns, and it has already turned.

And if you don't turn with it in time

then he'll blow you away.

If I, or rather if this girl succeeds

to accomplish the miracle of freeing my good city of Orleans

and to bring about my coronation in Reims

without you,

then you may... Well, you know that yourselves.

What are we to know ourselves?

Then you can tear up my receipts,

because how could I be in any debt to you then?

Don't be afraid, sire. So many men didn't want to believe what I have said

and God has opened the hearts of everyone.

Nonsense. Leave those gentlemen to the devil.

They have earned hell a hundred times.

The English are marching on St. Loup.

At this time tomorrow it might be burning.

Hundreds of innocent men will have to pay

and those miserables here

won't lift a finger, even though they command the troops.

Don't bother us with the dirty St. Loup.

I have my strategical reasons.

You may cling to your strategy, Dunois,

which has brought us nothing but retreats and defeats to this day.

Perhaps God has also explained to that girl how to win battles?

The archangel Micheal only told me: go to the king and tell him

that I'll help him through you, Joan, to free Orleans.

That's extraordinarily simple.

Everything coming from God is extraordinarily simple.

Leave me in peace, sire. Do as you see fit.

My soldiers are still being paid by me

and they are under my command

and no one else's.

The citizens of my good city of Orleans want to see you, Joan.

Go and show yourself to them.

You're responsible for her life to me.

What about St. Loup?

The moment is auspicious,

but I've already half won the battle.

Go.

Well, gentlemen?

I am waiting for your decisions.

God's wrath, you'll regret this one day, sire.

Accomplishing miracles

and having bells rung.

Sanctas in felicitas.

I only wished, Dunois,

that such a simple-minded explanation could help me.

By my soul, are you taking us for fools, sire?

It's obvious that that person had been taught her phrases.

A foolish girl who had been worked over by the priests.

That's your interpretation, the people think differently.

Who'll sing louder?

Now seriously, sire.

You've undertaken something quite unusual.

You've gone over to the common people.

I'm afraid the outcome will be bad.

Once the people realize their power,

then woe to the nobles, woe to the kings.

Interesting idea, La Tr�mouille,

but I believe

that the people are not on this earth to serve the kings,

but that the kings are to serve the people

as to the nobles...

Frankly, I believe...

The harvest is over-ripe.

Joan tells you...

that she had been sent by the holy archangel Michael

to this city of Orleans

because the King in heaven wants to end your sufferings.

The king's lord.

The good people mustn't kneel, sir.

Not before anybody but before his All-Christian Majesty the King of France

whose due it is.

Not before myself.

Help me, archangel Michael!

Help me!

Lead us, virgin, lead us!

St. Loup is burning.

Follow her!

May the devil take me.

They really believe she had been sent by the archangel Michael.

The people are with her.

If Joan can get the soldiers to follow her too...

Then, gentlemen, you'll not reap victory and its fruits.

I'll give you a good piece of advice.

Don't wait any longer with the order for the attack.

You're giving away your secret, sire.

You don't believe it yourself, by my soul.

If you really believed your holy girl would incite our soldier to march

then you wouldn't have to flatter us.

Do you want to tell me, sire, that my troops will follow a foolish peasant girl

which could cost them all their lives?

Do you claim...

The marching signal, Dunois.

Your troops are following my foolish peasant girl.

Now it's really too late for you.

Bring me my horse.

What's the matter? Damned!

I must speak to his lordship.

Guard.

My lord.

The Armagnacs.

Open your damned mouth

and speak up.

If you hold your life dear, you must flee, Lord Talbot.

The devil has come to the Armagnacs's help.

A damned witch leads them.

The whole city of Orleans is on the march.

St. Loup has been lost again.

Our bravest men have thrown away their weapons

and are fleeing.

Before a woman!

They don't stand fast any more.

my men don't stand fast any more.

Guards!

Onto the towers.

The witch is coming.

Don't let yourselves be fooled.

There is no witch.

Raise the fires.

if she were really a witch, and if you aim between her eyes she'll feel it.

It'll be hard to aim between her eyes.

The drums, between the witch's eyes.

There she is, holding the banner.

The witch of Orleans.

Shut up, or I'll break your neck.

Bring the tar pitch.

Pour the tar, shoot

to the ladders.

Push back the ladders.

Those are madmen.

Wait, those English pigs, 21, 22.

At least one is still here.

You wouldn't have believe this in your wildest dreams

that the son of a laundress would send you to hell.

Don't kill him.

Many are dead.

Why should the greatest villain stay alive?

The prisoners belong to his All-Christian Majesty the King of France.

Where are those damned wretches, the Armagnacs mustn't catch us.

If the palanquin isn't here right now, I'll have you quartered.

England doesn't have that much money to pay my ransom.

Off with you, you slimy snails.

You wet dogs.

Damned!

Now run off, till your lungs burst.

Fortune is a whore.

Now I kneel,

tomorrow someone else will kneel.

Who knows, maybe one day I'll catch a holy virgin myself.

Yes.

Who knows.

So, I offer to his All-Christian Majesty of France my service in arms

and...

an alliance.

One is supposed to rejoice more about the repentant sinner

than about a hundred just men.

What's the matter, good heavens, Joan

Are you injured?

We must move on, sire,

like the archangel Michael has ordered,

to Reims,

to the coronation.

One year after the flight from Domremy.

July 1429.

The King will be crowned today, Henriette,

and tomorrow I'll return home with you to Domremy.

I am so happy that you're here

from home

on my honorary day.

Because today is my honorary day too.

since I've accomplished my task as had been ordered by the archangel Michael.

It's almost a year since you've left Domremy.

Yes, a year. It seems to have passed like a day.

I don't understand myself how everything could have happened that way.

What's the little Monjette doing?

She's well.

And the Monjola?

- Well. - And maitre Jean Verdier?

And the little Piano?

How happy I'll be to see them all again,

The father, the mother, the brothers, the little sister,

and love them all.

Have you thought of me often?

I had been so impatient, waiting for the time to pass

and it had been such a long way up to here

and so many towns and castles had to be conquered.

I hope the archangel Michael won't count it as a sin,

that all the time I had been longing for home.

What's the matter, Joan?

I forgot how to do it,

what I used to do so well.

By holding the horse's reigns my hands have become all clumsy

and are no longer suitable to bind wreaths.

I'll do it for you, Joan.

His Holy Majesty the King of France

has just delivered the silver suit of armour.

Think of it, Claudia. A suit of armour made out of silver.

Let's look at it.

Did you see it, Louis?

Is it beautiful?

It's exactly like the archangel Michael's armour on the painting in Charleroi.

Will you take it to Domremy?

No, I'll wear it today at the coronation

and then I'll consecrate it to the archangel Michael.

I am so happy,

so very happy,

that I have to cry often and...

we have won.

Our fatherland has become free

because God has had mercy on us.

The English who had been making war on us for 100 years

are fleeing.

Today is the celebration of peace.

Good gracious, how long are we to stand here till it begins?

The virgin hasn't arrived yet.

Damned, she might arrive now, I can feel my bones from all that standing.

I think they make far too much fuss about the virgin.

You're right.

We've been in it from the beginning and we know very well

who deserves the merit.

All that talk of a miracle, nonsense.

If we hadn't done the fighting the miracle would never have happened.

Thank God.

That woman has kept us waiting long enough.

The king showers her with presents, the suit of armour alone cost 8.000 talers

and we'll have to pay for it.

Look at the way she carries her head.

That arrogant person will end badly, I tell you.

Dearest little virgin,

let me into your chamber.

Haven't I said so before that the English are stupid dogs.

I have chased them.

Haven't I chased them, what?

Will nobody shut that Alencon up?

Shut him up.

Do you think we wouldn't have marched on Reims so gloriously if you hadn't been there?

I have conquered Gerbot. I have

And who captured that fat pig, the duke of Suffolk? I have.

I'll tell you what would have become of you if I hadn't been there.

You wouldn't sit in Reims today.

You shitter of pants.

You owe it all to me to nobody else.

Did you dare to leave your stupid Orleans till the foolish witch arrived?

That woman who turned your soldiers' heads.

Accident has lifted you onto your horse

and I did the rest.

I have, my dear.

His All-Christian Majesty the King of France.

You're a traitor to your country, I'm telling you to your face.

Burgundy, you belong to the scaffold.

How dramatic, the warriors' Rough ways are refreshing.

The gentlemen have been pouring wine down their throats for two nights.

We'll finish some other time.

You'll get the shock of your life, Alencon.

Give me some wine.

Or do you want to neglect my table, you dogs

just because the king has arrived?

I will not tolerate it if you insult my king.

You're getting funny Alencon, very funny.

Long live his All-Christian Majesty, King Charles Vll of France!

Are you satisfied, Joan?

Do you like it?

True, it's a bit loud, but...

unfortunately most men cannot rejoice otherwise.

What are you thinking of?

I think of nothing.

I am happy, sire.

Already 200 dead, your grace.

Keep it secret, bury no one, lock the dying inside their homes.

Understood?

But you're vain, Joan.

I am happy about all the presents you gave me in your goodness.

Is that vain?

Don't look into the mirror too long. You might fall in love with yourself.

On St. Johannis day in Domremy, all the girls wear flower wreaths in their hair

made of forget-me-nots and daisies

and if a wreath remains fresh till midnight it means she'll marry next year

and if a wreath withers before midnight

that means the wreath of death.

Help me, sire!

Take off my wreath.

it's all withered.

- Joan! - Take it off!

Don't be afraid.

It's hot in here, no wonder the flowers are withering.

What's the matter?

Nothing, sire.

Sit down.

What new tricks?

You're a fox, La Tr�mouille,

but it's your misfortune that your intelligence is written on your face.

A stupid mask would be invaluable for you.

I've always told you to learn to pretend.

It's infinitely important,

but you don't want to learn anything from me.

I'm making an effort, sire

and I hope to surprise you one day with a really pretty story.

A piece of garbage you did, the virgin did everything.

shut up!

Virgin, virgin.

To the hangman with that virgin.

Well I'll be damned.

The king owes this crown to me

and he will pay me for it.

Burgundy opens his mouth forgetting that he has no teeth.

That way we had been talking about you in Orleans, sire,

but suddenly the bells rang, that girl appeared

and you threw yourself into the peoples' arms.

You'd grown teeth all of a sudden, and you took a good bite too

but I knew that you had been scheming against me.

One must wait for the occasion and profit by it when it comes.

Heaven sent you the miracle, hell sent me mine, it makes no difference.

Finish what you have to say, La Tremouille.

That is, if you want to talk now already.

I'll just explain the meaning of those black crosses to you.

In those quarters, no wonder with all those crowds and all that foul water.

In those quarters reigns the black plague.

The city doesn't know it yet, but they'll soon know it, I'll take care of that.

And they'll know too who's the guilty man,

or to be exact, the guitly woman.

Get up.

The English are already at Soissons.

Our retreat to Paris has been cut off.

Do you imagine we'll start marching at once.

That Maillezais remains a notorious grumbler.

Didn't you hear? The English are at Soissons.

The road to Paris has been cut off, we must act at once.

Are you deaf?

Charles, the English are at Soissons.

You're bleeding like a pig.

What's the matter with you?

Joan!

- Yes, sir? - Take up a banner, Joan, do you hear.

A banner.

Assemble the army.

Louis, my banner.

Give me more wine.

Have my signal sounded.

Silence!

The virgin will speak to you.

In the name of God,

I command you to throw your troops against the English.

Take her away from here, to safety.

One cannot repeat a miracle.

I'm afraid God's judgment is upon us,

because we have been fooled by a witch.

The black plague is in the city of Reims.

There is a witch within the walls of Reims.

A witch has put a crown on his All-Christian Majesty's head.

Beat her to death!

The damned witch!

Beat her to death, the witch!

Have you gone mad?

Don't get near her, perhaps she already has the plague.

Take her out of the city at once.

- Follow him, Joan. - Come with me, Joan.

Joan.

On the order of his All-Christian Majesty,

the King of France,

Count La Tremouille, commander of the city of Reims

offers for the head of the so-called virgin who has brought about the plague

a reward of 3.000 silver talers

to him who brings her dead or alive.

He'll receive the reward.

I can feel it in my bones.

From down there there is such a tearing

from my bowels.

That's how the plague always starts.

Holy merciful saviour!

Why me?

I didn't do anything.

Out of pure fear you start believing in God and the devil.

Maybe I've made fun of the virgin, that's why God has sent us the plague.

Perhaps it had been the other way round.

My small and modest intelligence tells me.

A tool is broken in two.

Throw it away.

Yes, I don't even know

if one should prevent La Tremouille at all.

God in heaven!

If you drop the holy virgin now, if she is a holy virgin,

it'll be worse and worse

because of your ingratitude.

On the orders of his All-Christian Majesty the King of France.

Count La Tremouille, commander of the city of Reims.

- You mustn't go back. - You cannot hold me, I must to my king.

Let me.

Count La Tremouille recommends to implore the mercy of God.

Regarding that witch sent by the devil.

The witch of Orleans.

God have mercy on our poor soul.

We must go on.

At Murat there are two dozen archers.

All of them devoted men, do you hear?

Do you hear?

Yes, we'll ride.

We'll beat the English.

I can see the archangel Michael now.

He'll lead us.

Against the English we'll...

My banner.

I've lost my banner.

May 1431.

De pro fundis clamavi at te Domine

Domine exaudi vocem meam

fiant aures tuae intendentes

in vocem deprecationis meae

de pro fundis clamavi at te Domine

Domine exaudi vocem meam.

You can feel at ease, sire.

I have made a vow to the archangel Michael

to help Joan,

if they save me from the plague.

You see, I've recovered

and I'm alive.

with God's gracious help

I'm alive.

But Joan...

She's kept prisoner in Rouen

and has been sentenced to death.

I think you're taking it easy.

If it's God's will that Joan shall be burned,

all your talking won't help.

If He doesn't wish it, He'll find ways...

to prevent it.

No one cares what you're doing.

But what shall I do?

On top of it, my men have captured her

and sold her to the English.

I'm all alone in the world.

No one helps me

because I have made a vow

and haven't kept it.

That's why I'll have to suffer.

They refuse.

You're a fool.

Haven't I told you that no one will stand up for Joan.

The church has condemned her as a heretic.

Who dares to interfere is lost himself.

Every child knows that, but you...

You don't want to understand.

They'll burn her tomorrow morning.

Yes, tomorrow morning.

I think she has a better fate than I have.

She may die.

I must live.

But it's madness.

You've left her, you've left her at the time in Reims.

You were afraid you'd lose your head too.

You've denied her.

It's all your fault that they went that far.

You, you!

You're such a fool.

Truly.

All you can do is hand out beatings

and if necessary, die.

But to die for a cause

that's not the hardest thing.

I have often told you that.

To live for a cause

and act for it -

that's much more difficult.

Just words and words to hide your weakness.

- I think you're acting like a villain. - Yes!

Yes, I know.

The way you think all the world thinks

and the world is full of fools.

Do you think I don't know what the people are saying: that Joan hasn't been sentenced by those gentlemen in Rouen, but by myself,

who has crowned her.

Do you imagine I don't know that tomorrow it is I who is being burned.

I!

Not Joan!

She had been my tool.

Now she is my enemies' tool.

She had never been anything else

but a tool.

It's only 20 miles to Rouen.

She's waiting for us. She's hoping we'll save her.

We must act. If you order it, the people will ride, they'll dare.

We'll be there tomorrow morning.

Free her.

No, no, no.

You haven't understood me at all.

She must be burned.

Alive she is of no use to us any longer.

She is only harmful.

The dead Joan will be a martyr.

Don't you see?

I know the people.

The dead Joan will be all-powerful,

inviolable,

she'll be a thousand times stronger

and her death will engender new miracles.

You're really mad.

You consent to it?

Even more, you wish it.

Yes, I wish it.

I want her to be burned.

It is necessary that she is burned.

I know.

I shall carry the shame, but...

France.

The glory.

Charles.

I wouldn't want to be in your place.

Truly I wouldn't.

Not I.

I'll take the few soldiers left to me in Compiegne

and I'll ride with them to Rouen.

I'd rather die there.

Perhaps you understand me, Burgundy?

Lie to me if you will, but tell me that you understand me.

I have no one.

I see.

So you've left me too.

Of course that's always the easiest,

paying with one's life.

I won't get away that cheap.

Not I.

Look at the witch of Orleans

for the last time before she's burned.

For the renovation of the prison we ask for a small alms.

One should deliver her to us.

Who knows if the English will really burn her tomorrow.

My king has come.

Look at this. This is how a real virgin looks like.

She has pretty legs

and those pants are becoming.

One should introduce that fashion.

A small alms for renovation of the prison.

My king,

where are you?

Leave me in peace, sir.

If you feel like seeing Joan burn at the stake, get going

but leave me in peace.

I don't want to bargain, M. de Granville.

Ask of me what you want,

if only you'd follow me with your troops.

Name your price.

If you don't let me sleep right now,

I'll lodge a complaint against you, sir at the inquisitor-cardinal

that you try to incite decent citizens

to free a heretic woman.

I'll remind you of your words one day, M. de Granville.

No, no, no!

Have you finally realized that you have been cheated by the devil?

- Have you realized? - No.

God cannot wish that.

Holy saviour, holy mother of God, I don't want to die.

Dear archangel Michael, I don't want to die.

You should have realized before that pride had led you to believe

that heavenly voices had been talking to you.

How could I have known who had been talking to me?

How could I have known? Whom should I have believed?

No, no, no!

Get ready, my daughter.

Your hour will come soon.

I can't believe that I shall no longer live like that,

that I shall no longer see the blue sky,

the blue sky, the green earth, the golden sun, the silvery moon.

Dead, dead!

My eyes dead!

My hands dead!

My ears dead!

Dead, dead!

No, no!

Pater noster qui est in caelis

sanctificetur nomen tuum. Adveniat regnum tuum.

I've come to you because you haven't forgotten that Joan had been on your side.

The great lords have abandoned Joan, they have betrayed her, sold her.

Who will be surprised at that?

I won't

I won't be surprised, and neither will you.

Haven't the great lords sold you a thousand times before?

- That's true. - He's right

You're children of the people.

Joan is a child of the people.

What is happening happens to you too. If Joan is burned today, that means one of you will be burned.

Then you yourselves will be burned.

The people will be burned.

France will be burned

and your mouths will be kept silent for another 100 years.

She mustn't be burned.

I knew that you wouldn't abandon me.

We'll ride to Rouen together.

We'll tear Joan down from the stake with our own hands.

God and the virgin!

So I finally caught you. It wasn't easy, M. de Maillezais.

The king fears that you'll do something foolish.

I am ordered to bind you and take you back.

Ordered?

By the king?

Be quick.

Hellish perfidy.

Joan!

A foul limb mustn't infect the other limbs.

You'll be thrown out of the purity of the church

and will be cut off from her body

and deliver her to the worldly powers

who in turn will expel you,

cut you off and deliver you.

Asking that same worldly power

that they may execute their sentence, without mutilation of limbs

with restraint on you

and if you show signs of true penitence

the sacrament of penitence shall be handed to you

in the name of the Lord.

Amen!

Do you have anything to say?

To confess, Joan?

Where will I be tonight?

Will you declare publicly that you have been abused?

And that you yourself have abused the people?

No.

Because I know

that God would never have allowed it

for the devil to appear before me in the shape of the archangel Michael.

Drums.

Heretic.

Aberrant believer.

Stubborn idolatress.

You devil's conjurer.

Do what is God's will.

I believe that I must die...

so that my fatherland will become free again.

I believe it with all my heart

because my Lord Jesus will not allow it...

that any harm will come to me

without a reason or an aim.

Do you imagine, sire, that you can discharge me as commander of the troops that way?

not only do I believe it, La Tremouille.

I know it.

Because I have already discharged you.

Almost.

I won't take any notice of that childish act.

I'll cancel the order to march which you've given in my name.

Because it's madness to give the marching order to the troops and not know where to.

Also I'll have you placed under tutelage.

Halt, my friend.

I have something to tell you.

It won't take long, but...

it's worth it.

Yes, I've given the marching order.

You don't know where to? To Rouen.

Lead her away.

I know that it'll be too late to save Joan,

but being too late makes it the right moment to save France.

Only now, La Tremouille, my saintly virgin has become invincible.

Dunois was the first to understand this.

He has left Orleans with his troops

and will join his forces with mine.

You, La Tremouille, are my prisoner for the time being.

You've gone completely mad, sire.

- Open up - Patience, count, the carriage will arrive at once.

Maurice, is it you?

Yes, count, it is I.

Now you'll have time to think about the infamous way you've robbed me of my farm.

The king has picked the right men to watch you.

Don't try the window,

there stands Rossel whose sons you've had killed.

Drums!

Give me a cross!

What are you laughing about? This costs me nothing.

Who knows what I may gain by it.

Here you are, my child.

Give me the cross.

When you're in paradise, think of me a bit

and if you go to hell...

then you may forget about me.

My God, my Lord,

heavenly father,

grant victory to his majesty of France

and sweet peace to his people,

accept graciously my own life as a sacrifice!

Lord

Jesu

Christi!

Get back!

25 years later.

June 1456.

We, the King of France,

anointed and crowned at Reims by Joan,

realize with satisfaction

that the court's decision at Rouen,

sentencing Joan to be burned at the stake 25 years ago

has been declared null and void

by his eminence the inquisitor-general of France

brother Jean Brehal.

As great as the errors may have been

man is subject to

greater still is the understanding God blesses him with from time to time.

How sweet it is to undo a wrong.

His All-Christian majesty advises the people of France

that they are to honour Joan's memory forthwith

as a memory to her who freed France from foreign rule,

as a memory to the state's most faithful servant

who had by her sacrificial death

ended disastrous warfare

and who gave glory and greatness to the country

and peace to the people.

The end