CHARCOAL-BURNER'S WIFE comes out of the hut
with a bowl. A Boy.

WIFE.
It is our boy whom we expected back.
[To JOHANNA.
Drink, noble maiden! may God bless it to you!

CHARCOAL-BURNER (to his son).
Art come, Anet? What news?

[The boy looks at JOHANNA, who is just raising the
bowl to her lips; he recognizes her, steps forward,
and snatches it from her.

BOY.
Oh, mother! mother!
Whom do you entertain? This is the witch
Of Orleans!

CHARCOAL-BURNER (and his WIFE).
God be gracious to our souls!

[They cross themselves and fly.