“No, indeed, Lucette. How could I? But that was in France. This is England. We are a different sort of people here.”
“You—yes. But the Church and the priests are the same everywhere. Everywhere! May the good God keep them from us!”
“Why, Lucette! you are praying against the Prince, if it be as you say!”
“Ah! would I then do harm to Monseigneur le Prince? Let him leave there the priests, and none shall be more glad to see him come than I. I love the right, always. But the priests! No, no.”
“But if it be right, Lucette?”
“The good God knows what is right. But, Mademoiselle, can it be right to bring in the priests and the confessions?”
“Is it not God who brings them, Lucette? We only bring the King. If the King choose to bring the priests—”
“Ah! then the Lord will bring the fires. But the Lord bring the priests! The Lord shut up the prêches and set up the mass? The Lord burn His poor servants, and clothe the servants of Satan in gold and scarlet? The Lord forbid His Word, and set up images? Comment, Mademoiselle! It would not be possible.”
“But, Lucette, the King has the right.”
“The Lord Christ has the right,” said Lucette, solemnly. “Is it not He whose right it is? Mademoiselle, He stands before the King!”