"Simon Sudbury," answered Ball, with a look of equal defiance, and still deeper scorn—"my dungeon doors obeyed the spirit of the free; and God alone can judge who is defiled, or who is pure——"
"Away, degraded priest!" answered Sudbury, fiercely, and he raised his arm, and pointed towards the door.
"Simon Sudbury," retorted the monk, "if, as thou sayest, I am degraded, to thee no authority is due—if I am still a chosen one of the Lord, methinks I am free to enter and worship in his temple: but," he continued, elevating his tones to their fullest compass, "whether I am a priest or no priest, yet here I am powerful, and, proud prelate, I, in my turn, command thee hence!"
"And is this the way, misguided zealot?" cried Sudbury—"is this the way that you preach peace? What hast thou done with the royal Richard?"
"The royal Richard," returned father John, exultingly, "is but king of the commons; but the royal Richard is well served," he added, sarcastically, "by Simon Sudbury and the nobles, who leave their prince, in his peril, to hide them in holes and sanctuaries!"
The treasurer turned pale, and hung his head.
"Aye, Sir Treasurer, thou hast reason to sink thy head! Thy odious poll-tax has mingled vengeance—nay, blood—with the cry of the bond."
"It is thou, foul spirit!" cried Sudbury, descending a step from the altar—"it is thou who hast stimulated the thirst for blood, and hast brought the royal prerogative and holy church into contempt—away! ere, with my own hands, I drive thee hence!"
"And away, ill-starred prelate!—away (as I prophesy) to thy doom!" returned the monk, advancing a step towards Sudbury; "aye—aye—away! and——"
The monk did not finish the sentence, for the door of the chapel was for a moment darkened with the shadows of two men, who were just entering; and father John, wrapping his cloak around him, walked rapidly towards them, and, with a single adjuration of "Friend Tyler, spare!" issued forth from the chapel.