FRANCISCAN. Madam, let me speak a word to you in private. [He moves over to the right.
OLD LADY. [Following him] Father?
FRANCISCAN. [Speaking in a subdued voice] You, madam, enjoy a reputation in this vicinity which you don't deserve, for you are the worst sinner that I know of. You want to buy your pardon, and you want to steal heaven itself, you who have already stolen from the Lord.
OLD LADY. What is it I hear?
FRANCISCAN. When you were sick and near death you made a vow to the Lord that in case of recovery you would give a monstrance of pure gold to the convent church. Your health was restored and you gave the holy vessel, but it was of silver—gilded. Not for the sake of the gold, but because of your broken vow and your deception, you are already damned.
OLD LADY. I didn't know it. The goldsmith has cheated me.
FRANCISCAN. You are lying, for I have the goldsmith's bill.
OLD LADY. Is there no pardon for it?
FRANCISCAN. No! For it is a mortal sin to cheat God.
OLD LADY. Woe is me!