"But men of great families scorn me because I bear the name de Gobignon," he said. "I will have to live out my life in disgrace."
"God respects you," said Friar Mathieu quietly and intensely. "Weighed against that, the opinion of men is nothing."
That is true, Simon thought, and great chains that had weighed him down as long as he could remember suddenly fell away. He felt himself gasping for breath.
Friar Mathieu continued. "The beauty of my vows is that with their help I have come to know who I truly am. I have given up my name, my possessions, the love of women, my worldly position. You need not give up all those things. But if you can part with them in your mind, you can come to know yourself as God knows you. You can see that you are not what people think of you."
Tears of joy burned Simon's eyelids. Thank you, God, for allowing me to meet this man.
"Yes," Simon whispered. "Yes, I understand."
"But," said Friar Mathieu, a note of light reproof in his voice, "I know you have not told me everything."
Caught by surprise, Simon was thankful that the lantern up ahead started swinging from right to left, a ball of light against the stars.
De Pirenne's voice came back faintly to Simon. "Orvieto!"
From the cart in front of Simon, the one carrying the Tartars, came the sound of loud snoring. An Armenian chuckled and said something in a humorous tone, and the others laughed. Simon pretended to be intensely interested in what the Armenians were saying and in the view up ahead.