'Alas! Alas! My poor Josse!' The stranger then, launching out into a frenzy, like a preacher beginning his sermon, fell to revile most shamefully our Holy Mother the Church. 'She will fall,' he shouted, 'she will fall, the mighty Babylon, the whore of Rome, and she will become the abode of demons, and the haunt of every bird accursed.' And Claes meanwhile continued the same old cry: 'Cruel brutes! Alas, poor Josse!' And the stranger went on in the same way as he had begun, saying: 'Verily an angel shall appear that shall take a stone that is great as a millstone, and shall cast it into the sea, crying: "Thus shall it be done to Babylon the mighty, and she shall be no more seen."' Whereupon, 'Sir,' says Claes, 'your mouth is full of bitterness; but tell me, when cometh that kingdom in which they that are gentle of heart shall be able to dwell in peace upon the earth?' 'Never,' answered the stranger, 'while yet my Lord Antichrist rules, that is the Pope, who is to-day the enemy to all truth.' 'Ah,' said Claes, 'you speak with little respect of the Holy Father. But he, surely, is ignorant of the cruel punishments which are meted out to poor Reformers.' 'Not at all,' answered the stranger, 'and far from it, for it is he who initiates the decrees and causes them to be put into force by the Emperor, now by the King. The latter enjoys all the benefits of confiscation, inherits the property of the dead, and finds it easy to bring charges of heresy against those who have any wealth.' Claes said: 'Indeed I know that such things are freely spoken of in the land of Flanders, and one may well believe them, for the flesh of man is weak, even though the flesh be royal flesh. O my poor Josse!' And by this did Claes give to understand that heretics are punished because of a vile desire on the part of His Majesty for filthy lucre. The stranger wished to argue the matter further, but Claes said: 'Please, sir, do not let us continue this conversation, for if it were overheard I might easily find myself involved in some awkward inquiry.' Then Claes got up to go to the cellar, whence he presently returned with a pot of beer. 'I am going to shut the door,' said he, and after that the informer heard nothing more, for he had to make his way out of the house as quickly as he could. Not till it was night was the door again opened, and then the stranger came forth. But he soon returned, knocking at the door and calling to Claes: 'It is very cold, and I know not where I am to lodge this night. Give me shelter, pray. No one has seen me. The town is deserted.' Claes welcomed him in, lit a lantern, and last of all he was seen to be leading the heretic up the staircase into a little attic room with a window that looked out on to the country." At this Claes cried out: "And who could have reported all this but you, you wicked fishmonger! I saw you on Sunday, standing at your door, as straight as a post, gazing up, like the hypocrite you are, at the swallows in their flight!"