"Why, then," says the Pope, "myself disremimbers the particlar passidges they alledge out of them old felleys," says he, "though sure enough they're more numerous nor edifying—so we'll jist suppose that a heretic was to find sich a saying as this in Austin, 'Every sinsible man knows that thransubstantiation is a lie'—or this out of Tertullian or Plutarch, 'the Bishop ov Room is a common imposther,' now tell me, could you answer him?"
"As easy as kiss," says his Riv'rence. "In the first, we're to understand that the exprission, 'Every sinsible man,' signifies simply, 'Every man that judges by his nath'ral sinses;' and we all know that nobody folleying them seven deludhers could ever find out the mysthery that's in it, if somebody didn't come in to his assistance wid an eighth sinse, which is the only sinse to be depended on, being the sinse ov the Church. So that, regarding the first quotation which your Holiness has supposed, it makes clane for us, and tee-totally agin the heretics."
"That's the explanation sure enough," says his Holiness; "and now what div you say to my being a common imposther?"
"Faix, I think," says his Riv'rence, "wid all submission to the better judgment ov the learned father that your Holiness has quoted, he'd have been a thrifle nearer the truth, if he had said that the Bishop ov Room is the grand imposther and top-sawyer in that line over us all."
"What do you mane?" says the Pope, getting quite red in the face.
"What would I mane," says his Riv'rence, as composed as a docther ov physic, "but that your Holiness is at the head ov all them—troth I had a'most forgot I wasn't a bishop myself," says he, (the deludher was going to say, as the head ov all us)—"that has the gift ov laying on hands. For sure," says he, "imposther and imposithir is all one, so you're only to undherstand manuum, and the job is done. Awouich!" says he, "if any heretic 'ud go for to cast up sich a passidge as that agin me, I'd soon give him a lesson in the p'lite art ov cutting a stick to welt his own back wid."
"'Pon my epostolical word," says the Pope, "you've cleared up them two pints in a most satisfactory manner."
"You see," says his Riv'rence—by this time they wor mixing their third tumbler—"the writings ov them Fathers is to be thrated wid great veneration; and it 'ud be the height of presumption in any one to sit down to interpret them widout providing himself wid a genteel assortment ov the best figures ov rhetoric, sich as mettonymy, hyperbol, cattychraysis, prolipsis, mettylipsis, superbaton, pollysyndreton, hustheronprotheron, prosodypeia and the like, in ordher that he may never be at a loss for shuitable sintiments when he comes to their high-flown passidges. For unless we thrate them Fathers liberally to a handsome allowance ov thropes and figures, they'd set up heresy at ons't, so they would."
"It's thrue for you," says the Pope; "the figures ov spache is the pillars ov the Church."