"Nonsense!" snapped Eyebrows. "That's what you expect of half-baked amateur theologians. Our view—that of the dual nature of the Son—has been irrefutably shown—"
"Hear that, God? As if one person could have more than one nature—"
"You're all crazy!" rumbled a tall, sad-looking man with thin yellow hair, watery blue eyes, and a heavy accent. "We Arians abhor theological controversy, being sensible men. But if you want a sensible view of the nature of the Son—"
"You're a Goth?" barked Eyebrows tensely.
"No, I'm a Vandal, exiled from Africa. But as I was saying"—he began counting on his fingers—"either the Son was a man, or He was a god, or He was something in between. Well, now, we admit He wasn't a man. And there's only one God, so He wasn't a god. So He must have been—"
About that time things began to happen too fast for Padway to follow them all at once. Eyebrows jumped up and began yelling like one possessed. Padway couldn't follow him, except to note that the term "infamous heretics" occurred about once per sentence. Yellow Hair roared back at him, and other men began shouting from various parts of the room: "Eat him up, barbarian!"
"This is an Orthodox country, and those who don't like it can go back where they—"
"Damned nonsense about dual natures! We Monophysites—"
"I'm a Jacobite, and I can lick any man in the place!"
"Let's throw all the heretics out!"