The Church might be satisfied; but the King of England, his councillors and his officers, were not.  It was Joan living, even though a prisoner, that they feared.  They were animated towards her by the two ruthless passions of vengeance and fear.  When it was known that she would escape with her life, murmurs broke out amongst the crowd of enemies present at the trial.  Stones were thrown at the judges.  One of the Cardinal of Winchester’s chaplains, who happened to be close to the Bishop of Beauvais, called him traitor.  “You lie,” said the bishop.  And the bishop was right; the chaplain did lie; the bishop had no intention of betraying his masters.  The Earl of Warwick complained to him of the inadequacy of the sentence.  “Never you mind, my lord,” said one of Peter Cauchon’s confidants; “we will have her up again.”  After the passing of her sentence Joan had said to those about her, “Come, now, you churchmen amongst you, lead me off to your own prisons, and let me be no more in the hands of the English.”  “Lead her to where you took her,” said the bishop; and she was conducted to the castle prison.  She had been told by some of the judges who went to see her after her sentence, that she would have to give up her man’s dress and resume her woman’s clothing, as the Church ordained.  She was rejoiced thereat; forthwith, accordingly, resumed her woman’s clothes, and had her hair properly cut, which up to that time she used to wear clipped round like a man’s.  When she was taken back to prison, the man’s dress which she had worn was put in a sack in the same room in which she was confined, and she remained in custody at the said place in the hands of five Englishmen, of whom three staid by night in the room and two outside at the door.  “And he who speaks [John Massieu, a priest, the same who in 1431 had been present as usher of the court at the trial in which Joan was condemned] knows for certain that at night she had her legs ironed in such sort that she could not stir from the spot.  When the next Sunday morning, which was Trinity Sunday, had come, and she should have got up, according to what she herself told to him who speaks, she said to her English guards, ’Uniron me; I will get up.’  Then one of then took away her woman’s clothes; they emptied the sack in which was her man’s dress, and pitched the said dress to her, saying, ‘Get up, then,’ and they put her woman’s clothes in the same sack.  And according to what she told me she only clad herself in her man’s dress after saying, ’You know it is forbidden me; I certainly will not take it.’  Nevertheless they would not allow her any other; insomuch that the dispute lasted to the hour of noon.  Finally, from corporeal necessity, Joan was constrained to get up and take the dress.”