In the city the emotion was still greater, and vented itself in murmurs and sighs, and also in ironical jests. ‘Have you heard the news?’ said the huguenots: ‘the bishop is going to issue an order with sound of trumpet, forbidding us to speak either good or evil of God and Christ.’ The silly prohibition was like oil thrown upon the fire: the preachings became more frequent, and even the indifferent began to read the Scriptures. Froment and his friends distributed evangelical books in abundance: first the New Testament, then various treatises recently composed, such as _La Vérité cachée_, _La Confrérie du Saint-Esprit_, _La Manière du Baptême_, _La Cène de Jésus-Christ_, and _Le Livre des Marchands_.[416] De Vingle, the printer, and one of his men, named Grosne, helped them in this work. But the papists sometimes treated the colporteurs roughly; a gentleman of the neighborhood, having caught Grosne on the high road, cut off his ears.[417] This had no effect; the people thirsted for the truth, and all were eager to hear the Word of God. The leaders of the episcopal party, seeing that nothing could stop these _prêcheurs de cheminées_ (chimney-preachers) and their hearers, looked about for a preacher whose energetic eloquence might rekindle the expiring Roman fervor,—one of those stout champions who can deal heavy blows in serious contests. For three or four centuries the Dominicans had played, as inquisitors, the chief parts in the papacy; they were skilful, eloquent, shrewd in government, persevering in their designs, inflexible in dogma, prodigal of threats, condemnations, and the stake. There was much talk in Savoy, and even in Geneva, about one of them,—a doctor of the Sorbonne, named Guy Furbity,—‘a great theologian,’ they said, ‘an enthusiastic servant of the pope, a sworn enemy of the Reformation, daring and violent to the last degree.’[418] Just then he was preaching at Chambéry and Montmeillan, charming all hearers. The Genevese catholics petitioned the Sorbonne for this great preacher. Such a rock, transported to the valley of the Leman, would, they thought, check the devastating torrent of reform. Their prayer was granted, and Furbity flattered himself that he was going to win a fairer crown than all his predecessors. Proud of his order, his reputation, and his Church, he arrived in Geneva with haughty head, glaring eyes, and threatening gestures; one might have imagined that he was going to crush all his adversaries to powder. ‘Ah! those poor Lutherans,’ he said disdainfully, ‘those poor chimney-preachers!’ ‘He was in a passion,’ says Froment.[419] The huguenots said, as they pointed him out, ‘Look at that Atlas, who fancies he carries the tottering Church of the Roman pontiff on his shoulders.’[420] [Sidenote: Furbity Abuses Bible-Readers.]