“Neither will I that, for no priest hath power to remit sin that is against God. To Him surely will I confess: and having so done, I have no need to make confession to men.”
“Take the witch away!” cried the chief Commissioner. “She’s a froward, obstinate heretic, only fit to make firewood.”
The gaoler led her out of the court, and John Johnson was summoned next.
“What is thy name, and how old art thou?”
“My name is John Johnson; I am a labouring man, of the age of four and thirty years.”
“Canst read?”
“But a little.”
“Then how darest thou set thee up against the holy doctors of the Church, that can read Latin?”
“Cannot a man be saved without he read Latin?”
“Hold thine impudent tongue! It is our business to question, and thine to answer. Where didst learn thy pestilent doctrine?”