The syndics, placed between the reformers and the catholics, could not tell what to do. If they arrested Furbity, they would exasperate the catholics and Savoyards; if they allowed him to continue his philippics against the reformed, they would offend the huguenots and the Bernese. The Two Hundred therefore resolved to leave the Dominican ostensibly at large, at the same time treating him in reality as a prisoner. He might go where he pleased, but attended by six guards, who followed him even to the foot of the pulpit. ‘Alas!’ exclaimed his friends, ‘they have placed the reverend father in the keeping of the watch!’ On hearing which the monk observed, haughtily: ‘I am under restraint on account of a set of people who are good for nothing.’ Christmas day arrived: the Dominican had ‘a very numerous audience, particularly of women.’ Incense smoked on the altars; the chants resounded in the choir; the faithful had never shown so much fervor, and the monk preached with such warmth that, ‘within the memory of man, there had never been so fine a service.’[436] At the same time, Farel, plainly dressed, was preaching in a large room. There was no incense, no tapers, no chanting, but the words of God which stirred men’s consciences. This irritated Furbity still more, and on the last day of the year he exclaimed from the pulpit: ‘All who follow the new law are heretics and the most worthless of men.’[437] Thus ended the year 1533. [Sidenote: Furbity Takes Leave.] The new year was to make the balance incline to the side of the Reformation; accordingly the clergy, as if terrified at the future, resolved to destroy the tree by the roots, and inaugurated the first day of the year 1534 by an extraordinary proclamation. ‘In the name of Monseigneur of Geneva and of his vicar,’ said the priests from all the pulpits, ‘it is ordered that no one shall preach _the Word of God_, either in public or in private, and that all the books of Holy Scripture, whether in French or in German, shall be burnt.’[438] The reformed, who were present in great numbers in the church, were staggered at the new-year’s gift which the bishop presented to his people. The Dominican, who was preaching that day for the last time, outdid the proclamation, and bade farewell of his audience in a paltry epigram:— Je veux vous donner mes étrennes, Dieu convertisse les luthériens! S’ils ne se retournent à bien, Qu’il leur donne fièvres quartaines! Qui veut _si, prennent ses mitaines_![439] Notwithstanding his invocation of the quartan ague, the catholics said, with tears in their eyes, ‘With what devotion he takes leave of us!’ All, however, had not been equally touched: just as the monk was preparing to depart, his guards stopped him, for he had forgotten that he was a prisoner.