Nicholson became violently jealous of young Stephen Fouace, minister of Martin's Hundred parish, in which the Burwells resided. One night, when he was returning from a pastoral call at King's Creek he happened to meet the Governor. Falling into one of his rages, Nicholson, in a thundering voice, commanded him never again to visit the house unless sent for, and never again to speak to Lucy.[27] "Why, Sir," stammered the frightened pastor, "what is the matter? Does your Excellency take me for your rival? I assure you, sir, I have not that foolish presumption to think to be preferred to your Excellency." "Hold your prate, sirrah. I have taken good notice of you. You are an impudent rogue, a villain, a rascal." As they were riding along together Nicholson reached over and pulled Fouace's hat from his head. "How do you have the impudence to ride with me with your hat on?" "I hope you will not use me like a footman," said Fouace. After a pause Nicholson asked: "Is it not a shame for one of your function to suffer me to be ridiculed and railed at in some companies where I know you have been? Is it not your duty to reprove them?" Fouace replied that the best way to avoid ridicule was to be sure that his behavior was such as not to expose him to odium and contempt, that even the King of France could not hinder many of his subjects from speaking ill of him. "But seeing your Excellency is pleased to make me mindful of my duty to reprove the evil I see done in my presence, I must make bold to reprove your Excellency for using at this rate in the highway, in the woods, and in the night, on a Sunday, a clergyman coming from visiting the sick of his parish." Nicholson received this in silence. But a few minutes later he ran at Fouace, trying to seize him, and threatening to lash him with his whip. This frightened him, for the Governor had his sword and pistols with him, and they were alone in the night. So he wheeled, set spurs to his horse, and fled.[28] But he could not escape Nicholson's malice. He soon found that life in Virginia was intolerable, and laid his plans to leave for England. But the Governor had no desire to have him lay charges against him before the Bishop of London and the Lords of Trade and Plantations. After he had gone aboard the tobacco fleet, he tried to bring him back, but by shifting from ship to ship Fouace managed to escape. Nicholson's folly aroused astonishment even in England, and the gossips in the London Exchange and the coffee houses tittered at his unsuccessful suit. An English clergyman wrote him an anonymous letter. "It is not here as in some barbarous countries where the tender lady is often dragged into the Sultan's arms just reeking in the blood of her nearest relations, and yet must strongly dissemble her aversion. But English women are the freest in the world, and will not be won by constraint, but hate them who use them and theirs roughly."