The Iron Pincers; or, Mylio and Karvel: A Tale of the Albigensian Crusades

"The case has been heard and judged. Now our Bailiff of the Joy of Joys shall submit to us the disputed questions of Love, if there be any, in order that the Court may pass upon them, and its decisions have the force of law."

The Bailiff of the Joy of Joys (advances to the foot of the tribunal carrying in one hand a roll of parchment tied in many-colored ribbons; he bows to Marphise and says:) – "Illustrious Queen, I have received a large number of questions touching upon grave, ticklish and delicate points concerning the orthodoxy of Love. From all the corners of the empire of Venus, your subjects address themselves to your supreme infallible Court, and implore the charity of its light. The duchy of Languors, the marquisate of Desires, the county of Refusal, the barony of Expectation, together with so many other fiefs of your kingdom, Oh! gracious Queen, humbly pray the Chamber of Sweet Vows to pass upon the following questions, to the end that its decree may put an end to the doubts of the people and determine the doctrine they are to adhere to. They all stand in as much dread of heresy in matters that concern Love, as they do in matters that concern the salvation of their souls."

Marphise – "Let our Bailiff of the Joy of Joys read the questions that have been sent to be submitted to the Court. The Court will then go into deliberative session, unless some urgent case that demands immediate trial present itself in the meantime."

Saying this Marphise exchanges looks with Countess Ursine, whose petulant impatience has been steadily on the increase.

The Bailiff of the Joy of Joys – "These are the questions submitted to the supreme and infallible decision of the Court:

"1 – Who should be sadder, he whose lady-love has died, or he whose lady-love marries?

"2 – Who should feel greater affliction, the husband whose wife is unfaithful, or the lover who is deceived by his lady-love?

"3 – Who is more to be blamed, he who boasts of favors that have not been accorded him, or he who divulges the favors he has received from his fair lady-love?

"4 – You have a rendezvous with a married woman, which should you prefer – to see the husband leave the house of your lady-love when you are entering it; or see him enter when you are leaving?

"5 – You have a lady-love; a rival takes her from you; which of the two should feel happier – you who have been the fair one's first love, or your rival whom she now prefers to you?

"6 – A lover is enjoying the favors of his lady-love; a rival is in a fair way of gaining them; she dies; which of the two should experience deeper sorrow at the cruel loss?

"7 – Your lady-love proposes to you one single day of joy under the condition that you never after see her again; or she offers to see you every day without, however, ever granting you any favors – which would you prefer?"

"Oh, the devil!" cries Foulques of Bercy, one of the judges of the Court of Love, suddenly interrupting the Bailiff of the Joy of Joys, "the thing to do is to accept the day that is offered, and to enjoy it all you can!"

Marphise (turning with severity towards the Seigneur of Bercy) – "We wish to remind our gracious colleague that in a matter of such gravity and importance the individual opinion of one member of the Court may in no wise prejudge the merits of the case. (Foulques of Bercy bows reverently.) Let our bailiff continue to read."

The Bailiff of the Joy of Joys – "8 – Who should prize himself happier – an old woman who has a young man for her lover, or an old man who has a young girl for his lady-love?

"9 – Which is preferable for a lady-love, a married woman or a maid?

"10 – What is preferable, an unfaithful but beautiful lady-love, or a less beautiful but faithful one?

"11 – Two women are equal in point of beauty, of youth and of worth; one has loved before; the other is still a novice; should a lover be more anxious to please the former than to be beloved by the latter?

"12 – A woman has obstinately rejected her lover and thereby caused his death; should she be considered barbarous and a homicide, responsible for the death that she caused?

"Such are the grave questions submitted for the decision of the Chamber of Sweet Vows, and concerning which the inhabitants of the empire of Cytherea humbly pray the Court to deliberate and pass upon, to the end that the Court's decisions may be taken for a guide, and the people be not exposed to fall into detestable and damnable heresies in matters of Love."

Adam the Hunchback of Arras – "As a member of the Court I shall request our beautiful and gracious President to give me leave to make a remark upon the last question."

Marphise – "Illustrious trouvere, it is always happiness to us to hear your voice. Impart to us your precious observation."

Adam the Hunchback of Arras – "I am of the opinion that the last question should be excluded. It is no longer a debatable question. It has been more than once decided in the affirmative – "

Master Oenobarbus the Theologian – "Yes, the question has been disposed of in the affirmative upon the reasoning presented by me. I beg leave of the Court to be allowed to refresh its memory upon my reasoning. It was this:

"'The Court, being consulted upon the question whether a woman, who, by reason of her austerity, causes the death of a gallant, is a homicide. Whereas, if Love hates obdurate hearts, God hates them no less; whereas, God, the same as Love, allows Himself to be disarmed by a tender prayer; whereas, whatever the manner may be in which a man's death is brought about, you are guilty of murder from the moment that it appears that the death resulted from your action; therefore the Court of Sweet Vows decrees and orders as follows: The woman, who, through the rigor of her refusal, has caused the death of a gallant, by whom she was loyally courted, is actually guilty of barbarism and homicide.'

"Such was the decision of the Court. I do not believe the Court is willing to reconsider its decree."

All the members of the tribunal rise and declare that they adhere to their former judgment.

Adam the Hunchback of Arras – "In order to corroborate our decree and to render it more popular and easy to be remembered, I propose that it be formulated in meter, as follows:

 
"You are pretty, young and tender,
Deigned to others show much good:
Hear my verdict: Nothing e'er would
God above so much displease
As to let a Christian die, whom
You could save with greatest ease."
 

Both the tribunal and the audience applaud the metrical rendition of the decree, as proposed by Adam the Hunchback of Arras. The Court proceeds with the business before it.

Marphise – "Our Bailiff of the Joy of Joys shall insert the memorable decree in the archives of the Court, and order all our trouveres, minstrels, jugglers and other sinful brothers of the gay science, that they spread the formula of the sovereign decree with their songs among the subjects of Cytherea, to the end that none may plead ignorance on the head of the monstrous heresy – the idea that a woman who causes the death of her gallant by reason of her refusal is not a homicide."

Master Oenobarbus the Theologian (with fanatical zeal) – "Yes; let the women know that if other heresies may be expiated on earth in the flames of the pyre, the vestibule of the eternal fire, let the tigresses know that before they reach the furnace of Satan they will have to expiate their impiousness in this world in the furnace of remorse. Night and day they have before their eyes the specter of the ill-starred gallant, their victim."

Deliane the Canoness (plaintively languorous) – "Oh, only the pursuit of their gallants on the other side of the grave will cause these inhuman women to understand – but, alas! only too late – all the harm they have done."

Marphise (vainly seeking to detect the impatient Countess Ursine in the audience) – "Well – seeing that there is no other pressing suit before the Court, the tribunal will now take up the questions that have been submitted to it, and all of which demand its attention."

CHAPTER V
THE CRUSADERS!

The Queen of Beauty and President of the Court of Love has barely pronounced the words that indicate the taking up of the routine work before her, when the petulant Ursine hurriedly elbows her way through the crowd and presents herself at the entrance of the sacred precinct. Giraud, Seigneur of Lancon, demands in his quality of porter the customary toll due him – a kiss from the fair litigant. Ursine gives him two on the mouth and walks to the foot of the tribunal crying: "Justice! Justice!"

Marphise (with a sigh of relief and triumph) – "Speak, dear friend. Justice will be rendered to you, if your right is clear."

Countess Ursine (imperiously) – "Whether my right is clear! Just heavens! Whether our rights are clear, I should say! I am the representative of eleven victims, among whom I am the twelfth!"

Marphise – "Justice will be done to each and to all. What is your grievance?"

Countess Ursine – "Each of us, my eleven companions and myself, had a secret gallant. He was charming, witty, daring, bold. Suddenly we learned that we all had the identical lover! The traitor was deceiving all twelve of us at once! Was there ever such audacity?"

Adam the Hunchback of Arras (claps his hands and exclaims:) – "What! All the twelve! Oh, the terrible man! What an ample heart must not his be!"

The unheard-of felony throws the members of the Court into mute stupor, except Marphise, Deliane, Huguette and Eglantine, who exchange knowing looks among themselves.

Foulques of Bercy – "I wish to put a question to the plaintiff. Did the prodigious criminal at the time when his shocking infidelity was discovered show himself less daring than usual towards the plaintiff and her companions in misfortune?"

Countess Ursine (with an explosion of violent indignation) – "Never did the criminal act more charming. And we said so in secret to one another, unknowing, alas! that we were all the while speaking of the identical deceiver! We each said to the others: 'I have a magnificent lover, a matchless gallant! He is always the same' – "

Foulques of Bercy – "And you were all the time being nicely deceived, all the twelve?"

Countess Ursine (furious) – "Yes! It is that very circumstance that renders the traitor all the more guilty!"

Foulques of Bercy shrugs his shoulders and does not seem to share the plaintiff's opinion regarding the aggravation of the offense. Several members of the Court, Marphise, Deliane, Eglantine and Huguette, excepted, the majority of the fair ones in the gathering seem, on the whole, rather to take the view of Foulques of Bercy, and to see an extenuating circumstance in the very enormity of the misdeed. Marphise notices with deep concern the propensity to indulgence. She rises majestically in her seat and says:

"I wish to believe that all the members of the Court join me in feeling a legitimate indignation at the miscreant, who, trampling under foot all the divine and human laws of Love, has dared to commit so formidable an offense against fidelity. If, however, it should happen that I am mistaken; if there be any member of this tribunal inclined to indulgence in sight of such an enormity, let him admit it openly, and his name and his views will be proclaimed throughout the length and breadth of the empire of Cytherea."

A profound silence ensues among the members of the Court.

Marphise (radiant) – "Oh, I felt certain that this august tribunal, which has been established in order to take, with severe solicitude, cognizance of the crimes against Love and to check them, aye, even to punish them, if need be, would show itself worthy of its mission. (Addresses the countess.) Dear friend, did you summon the criminal to our bar?"

Countess Ursine – "Yes, I summoned him to appear before the Court of Sweet Vows; and whether it be audacity on his part or a stricken conscience, he has obeyed the summons. I demand that it may please the Court to deliver him to the twelve victims of his felony. They will wreak signal vengeance upon him. (Impetuously.) We must see to it before everything else that the monster, the traitor, the felon shall no longer be able to deceive other women – and that he be punished on the spot – "

Marphise (hastening to interrupt the countess) – "Sweet friend, before inflicting punishment, the Court must hear the accused."

Countess Ursine – "The culprit has obeyed our summons and has come accompanied by a fat varlet of a man, whom, he says, he may need in his defense. They are both locked up in the Prison of Love back of the garden."

Marphise – "We order our Seneschal of Sweet-Marjoram and our Bailiff of the Joy of Joys to bring forth the culprit and to lead him hither in chains as is the usage, with the customary garlands on his head."

The Seneschal and the Bailiff furnish themselves with two long red and blue ribbons to which several bouquets of flowers are fastened and proceed towards the shady tunnel to fetch the prisoner. A great agitation reigns among the crowd. Opinion is divided on the degree of the culprit's guilt. Unanimous, however, is the curiosity to see the lusty champion. Mylio the Trouvere presently appears, led by the Seneschal of Sweet-Marjoram and the Bailiff of the Joy of Joys. Goose-Skin modestly remains outside of the enclosure of the Court. The youth and good looks of the accused, his renown as a poet and singer, immediately turn the female portion of the assembly in his favor.

Marphise (addressing Mylio in an imposing voice) – "You are charged before the Chamber of Sweet Vows with a crime unheard-of in the annals of Love. What have you to say in your own defense?"

Mylio – "What is the crime that I am charged with?"

Marphise – "You have deceived twelve women at once. Each of them believed she alone had you for her gallant. What blacker treason can there be?"

Mylio – "Who are my accusers? I demand to see them and to be confronted by them."

Countess Ursine (impetuously) – "I accuse you! I am one of your twelve victims. Will you dare to deny your crime?"

Mylio – "My accuser is such a charming lady, that even if I were innocent I would confess myself guilty. I have come hither to make a solemn expiation of the past. I could choose no better place, no better time, and no better audience. Deign to hear me."

Marphise – "Your frankness will not extenuate your crimes, albeit that it does honor to your character. Do I understand you to say that you admit your felony?"

Mylio – "Yes; I have made love to noble, beautiful, obliging and easy ladies who were mad for pleasure, and who were governed by no law other than their own caprice."

Marphise – "Dare you impugn your victims?"

Mylio – "Far from me be any such thought! Raised in the lap of plenty, ignorance and idleness, those noble ladies only yielded to corrupting examples and counsels. Had they been born in obscurity, leading an honorable existence amidst the occupations and joys of family life, they would all have been exemplary mothers and wives. But how could those noble ladies choose but forget virtue, honor and duty in these shameful days when debauchery has its code and libertinage its decrees, and where unchastity, sitting in a sovereign Court, regulates vice and decrees adultery? Such is the mission of the Court of Love."

Indescribable amazement is depicted on the faces of the Court, its pursuivants and the audience, at the words of Mylio. The members of the Chamber of Sweet Vows look at one another stupefied by the irreverent language. Master Oenobarbus, the theological rhetorician, and Adam the Hunchback of Arras rise to make answer, while the knight Foulques of Bercy, the Seneschal of Sweet-Marjoram and the Bailiff of the Joy of Joys, all of whom are experts at their weapons, mechanically put their hands to their sides in search of their swords. But they all attended Court unarmed, according to the usage of the institution. Marphise raps for silence and says to the trouvere:

"Wretch! Dare you insult these august tribunals that are established throughout Gaul in order to propagate the laws of gallantry!"

"And of unbridled lechery!" cries a little flute-like voice, interrupting Marphise. The words proceed from Goose-Skin, who, in order to interject the incongruous words disguised his voice and traitorously hid himself behind a cluster of foliage against which a young page, who was placed near the entrance of the Court, leaned with his back not far from the Seneschal of Sweet-Marjoram. Stung to the quick, the dignitary turns around and seizes the lad by the collar while Goose-Skin, emerging from his hiding place cries in a voice that he purposely renders all the more raucous: "The insolent little joker! From what brothel can he have come that he uses such foul language towards noble dames? He should be driven out on the spot, Seigneur Seneschal of Sweet-Marjoram! Oxhorns – Let us throw him out!"

The poor page looks nonplussed; his face turns red; he is dumbfounded; he seeks in vain to stammer a few words in his own defense; he is beaten by the indignant crowd; and finally, in order to escape worse treatment, flees in the direction of the avenue of trees. After a while the turmoil created by this incident subsides.

Marphise (with dignity) – "I know not what were the infamous words that the miserable page, who no doubt is intoxicated, hurled at this tribunal. But the vile words have fallen by virtue of the weight of their own grossness back into the mire from which they issued, and have not been able to rise to the pure ether of Love that this Court inhabits! (A murmur of approbation receives the ethereal response of Marphise, who thereupon proceeds, addressing Mylio:) What! A hundred times did you repeat on the harp the decrees of the tribunal of Cytherea; and now you insult it! Do you forget that only your chants succeeded in lowering the otherwise insuperable barrier that rose between yourself and the noble assemblages where you were tolerated among the knights and the abbots, you, the child of villeins, you, a vile serf, no doubt! The baseness of the language you have held to-day reveals but too clearly the ignominy of your origin."

Mylio (with bitterness) – "You speak truly. I am of serf stock. For centuries your race has enslaved, degraded and crushed down mine. Yes; while you here brazenly discuss in refined language foolish or obscene subtleties, millions of poor female serfs are not allowed to enter their husbands' bed until they have been soiled by the seigneurs in the name of an infamous law! Oh! What I accuse myself of is having forgotten that fact even for a moment – aye, I accuse myself triply for having done that!"

Marphise – "The humble admission is but one more proof of the hugeness of your insolence and of your ingratitude – dozen-fold traitor and felon!"

Mylio – "You speak truly again! I was cruelly ungrateful towards my family when, several years back, driven by the ardor of youth I left Languedoc, the country of freedom, the country of honorable customs – a happy land that has known how to crop the crests of the seigneurs and to reconquer both its dignity and independence!"

Master Oenobarbus the Theologian (angrily) – "Dare you glorify Languedoc, that devilish country, that hot-bed of heresy!"

Foulques (excitedly) – "Languedoc, where the execrable communes of the people still stand unshaken!"

Mylio (proudly) – "I accuse myself for having left that noble and brave province, and for coming to these debased regions to charm with licentious songs the ears of this nobility that is the foe of my race! That is my real crime."

The proud words of Mylio arouse the indignation of the seigneurs. Fearing lest, in his capacity of the trouvere's companion, he may also become the victim of the seigneurs' rage, Goose-Skin profits by the tumult to slide unperceived towards the tunnel of verdure that serves as the Prison of Love. The angered voice of the Seigneur of Bercy rises above the din. Threatening Mylio with his fists, he cries:

"Wretch! To dare insult the knighthood and our holy Church, and that at this place! I shall order my men to seize you, and they will use their straps upon your shins! Miserable slave! Abominable scamp!"

Mylio (calm and dignified) – "Foulques of Bercy, your men are superfluous. Fetch a sword. Mine lies in the pavilion of verdure. By God! If you are a man this Court of Love will be transformed into an enclosed field and these fair ladies into the judges of the combat!"

Foulques (furious) – "Vile serf, I shall punish your insolence with my cane! Down on your knees, villain!"

Mylio (mockingly) – "By heaven! If your charming wife Emmeline heard you make such threats she would say to you: 'Dear friend, do not insult in that manner Mylio – he is a better man than you; he may hurt you!'"

At the cutting repartee, Foulques bounds from his seat. One of the noblemen in the audience draws his sword, and passing it over to the Seigneur of Bercy, says: "Avenge the affront, kill the villein as you would a dog!" Mylio, unarmed, crosses his arms over his breast and defies his adversary. But Goose-Skin, who, yielding to a first impulse of poltroonery had fled to the Prison of Love where Mylio's sword lay, hears the threats of Foulques, and realizing the danger the trouvere runs, takes the sword, returns in haste, and the very moment when the Seigneur of Bercy rushes sword in hand upon Mylio, the latter hears behind him the panting voice of the juggler, saying: "Here is your sword; defend yourself; defend both of us; if you do not I shall be cut into shreds by virtue of our friendship. Oxhorns! Why did we run into this hornets' nest!"

Mylio (takes his sword and puts himself in a position of defence) – "Thanks, my old Goose-Skin! I shall work for us both! Just watch!"

All in a tremble the juggler shelters himself behind Mylio. Foulques of Bercy, on his part, surprised at seeing the trouvere suddenly armed, remains for a moment in perplexity. A knight is free to kill a defenceless villein, but to cross steel with one is to disgrace himself.

Mylio – "What, Foulques! You are afraid! Your wife's warning has convinced you! You fear I may hurt you!"

Foulques of Bercy (emitting a cry of rage and furiously attacking the trouvere) – "You lie in your throat! Dog!"

Mylio (defending himself and goading Foulques of Bercy with biting mockery) – "I know Emmeline and I know she knows you. Did she not tell you more than once not to get heated lest your adversary whip you?"

Foulques of Bercy (fighting with redoubled impetuosity) – "Death and fury! I must have his life!"

Mylio (defending himself and still goading the Seigneur of Bercy with his irritating jests) – "She knows you so well for a coward that she made me promise her I would not tell on you when you ran away from a fight, or nicely swallowed an affront."

Goose-Skin (keeping safely entrenched behind the trouvere) – "Oxhorns! Control your tongue! He will have neither pity nor mercy for us! You are driving him so mad that he will have us broiled alive."

Foulques of Bercy (fighting with unabated fury and increased rage at being unable to wound Mylio) – "Blood of Christ! The vile vagabond manages his sword like a knight!"

The combat continues a while longer, with ferocity on the knight's part and imperturbable deliberation on the part of the trouvere, in the center of a circle that consists of the audience and the members of the Court, without either the trouvere or the knight being wounded. Both are strong men and dexterous in the use of weapons. The huge body of Goose-Skin, behind the trouvere, according as the latter's evolutions compel him to move over the ground, jumps hither and thither, backward and forward. His enormous paunch wobbles, he puffs for breath; he seems to be suffocating. Finally, the trouvere ably parries a terrible blow aimed at him by the seigneur and immediately plunges his sword into the knight's thigh. The knight roars with rage, staggers and drops backward upon the blood-stained sward. The witnesses to the combat hurry to bring aid to the vanquished, and for an instant forget the trouvere.

Goose-Skin (out of breath and still holding himself behind Mylio) – "Ouf! The big scamp gave us a deal of trouble before we could bring him down. But now, Mylio, take my advice. Let us profit by the tumult and pull our legs out of the trap."

Suddenly the loud sound of trumpets is heard at the further end of the avenue of trees, and almost immediately a large body of knights, armed cap-a-pie, wearing on their shoulders the cross of the Crusaders and covered with dust, are seen entering the avenue at a gallop. Among them, and also on horseback, is Abbot Reynier, the superior of the monks of Citeaux, clad in his white robe. Equerries follow the train bearing the banners of their respective seigneurs. Arrived at the bridge that intersects the broad avenue of trees, the seigneurs alight.

"The Crusaders! They are back from the Holy Land!" is the affrighted cry that goes up from the gathering of noble ladies and knights congregated at the Court of Love, and taken by surprise by their homing husbands.

The latter mistake the cry for a welcome, and run across the bridge shouting joyfully: "Yes, dear wives! We are back from the Holy Land! Eleven we departed, and eleven we return, thanks to the miraculous protection of the Lord!"

"And of the good St. Arnold, the patron of deceived husbands!" added Goose-Skin aside, as he profited by the tumult created by the new arrivals to slip into the avenue with the trouvere. "What a droll and lucky accident! It is the return of the eleven husbands of your eleven sweethearts that saves you from the ire of that crowd! I shall split my sides with laughter!"

Thanks to the general commotion, the trouvere and the juggler make good their escape, while the eleven doughty crusading knights gladfully call their noble wives to them. The Canoness Deliane, being the only unmarried one of the twelve who met in the orchard of the Lady of Ariol, remains behind. The eleven wives rush into the arms of the valiant crusaders, who, blackened as moles and dusty as tramps, rejoice in the embrace of their faithful spouses.

The first ebullitions of joy having somewhat subsided, Abbot Reynier, clad in the long white robe of the monks of Citeaux, ascends the throne that was until recently occupied by Marphise, the Queen of the Court of Love; commands silence, and, like a new Cuckoo Peter, as Peter the Hermit was popularly called, prepares to spread a new Crusade – this time at home. The Crusade that he has in contemplation is not to the Holy Land. The faith now calls for a raid upon the heretics of the south of Gaul. Silence reigns, and Abbot Reynier, the sycophantic debauchee, who, driven by his concupiscence, only the evening before clandestinely crept into the close of the mill of Chaillotte, addresses the assembly, not in the savage and fiery language of Peter the Hermit, but in measured words, cold and trenchant as the iron of an axe:

"I have accompanied hither the seigneurs Crusaders, who, anxious to meet their chaste wives, hasten to this place where we find the most illustrious seigneurs of Touraine assembled. Ye noble seigneurs, learned trouveres and noble ladies who hear me, the time is past for frivolous games. The enemy is at our gates. The province of Languedoc has become the hot-bed of an execrable heresy, that is slowly invading the rest of Gaul, and menaces the three sanctuaries, arch-sanctuaries of the land – the Church, the Royalty and the Nobility. The wildest of these heretical miscreants, worse by far than the Saracens themselves, take their arguments from the primitive Evangelium and deny both the authority of the Church and the privileges of the seigneurs; they declare the equality of men; they brand as a theft all wealth in the hands of those who did not produce it; worst of all they hold that 'the serf is the equal of the seigneur, and that he who does not work neither shall he eat'!"

Several Nobles' Voices – "This is infamous! This is insanity! To death with the miscreants!"

Abbot Reynier – "It is insanity, it is infamous; furthermore, it is dangerous. The sectaries of this heresy gain daily new proselytes. Their leaders, who are all the more vicious and pernicious seeing they affect to practice the reforms that they preach, acquire in that way a detestable influence over the populace. Their pastors, who replace our own holy Catholic priests, have themselves called 'Perfects.' Finally, in their infernal criminality, they seek to render their own lives exemplary! It is high time that they be exterminated!"

Several Nobles' Voices – "The wretches! The hypocrites! To death with the felons!"

Abbot Reynier – "Languedoc, that fertile region that abounds in wealth, is in a frightful condition. The Catholic clergy are despised; the royal authority is hardly recognized; the nobility is no less humbled than the Church herself, and, shocking to say! unheard-of outrage! the nobility of the region is almost wholly infected by the damnable heresy. Everywhere replaced by popular magistrates, and stripped of all special privileges, the seigneurs are confounded among the common people. Serfdom no longer exists in that country; the nobility works its fields in common with their tenants. Counts and viscounts are seen there engaged in commerce like bourgeois, and growing rich by traffic! Finally, and as if to cap the climax of abomination, the nobility frequently marries Jewish wives, the daughters of opulent merchants!"

Several Nobles' Voices – "Shame! Abomination of desolation! It will be the ruin of Christendom! That calls for vengeance! To the sack with Languedoc! Death to the heretics!"

Abbot Reynier – "It is both a shame and a terrible danger, my brothers and sisters. The heresy is spreading amain. If it triumphs, the Church is done for, and so are royalty and nobility. The masses lose the sense of terror for hell that we inculcate. We would then be compelled to renounce our rights, our land, our property. We would be forced to bid adieu to the happy and comfortable life that we lead. We would have to resign ourselves to live by work like the serfs, the rustics and the bourgeois. We would be condemned to help ourselves with our hands! What a distressing perspective!"