Oho, Clement Maldon, you hang-faced Spanish dog, learn that eyes have been on you for long, and now it seems that you would usurp the King's prerogative besides----" and he checked himself, then went on, "Seize that priest, and keep him fast while I make inquiry of this business." Now some of the Commissioner's guard surrounded Maldon, nor did his own men venture to interfere with them, for they had enough of fighting and were frightened by this talk about the King's warrant.
Then the Commissioner turned to Cicely, and said-- "You are Sir John Foterell's only child, are you not, who allege yourself to be wife to Sir Christopher Harflete, or so says yonder Prioress?
Now, what was about to happen to you, and why ?" "Sir," answered Cicely, "I and my waiting-woman and the old sister, Bridget, were condemned to die by fire at those stakes upon a charge of sorcery.

Although it is true," she added, "that I knew we should not perish thus." "How did you know that, Lady?
By all tokens your bodies and hot flame were near enough together," and he glanced towards the stakes and the scattered faggots.
"Sir, I knew it because of a vision that God sent to me in my sleep last night." "Aye, she swore that at the stake," exclaimed a voice, "and we thought her mad." "Now can you deny that she is a witch ?" broke in Maldon.

"If she were not one of Satan's own, how could she see visions and prophecy her own deliverance ?" "If visions and prophecies are proof of witchcraft, then, Priest, all Holy Writ is but a seething pot of sorcery," answered Legh.

"Then the Blessed Virgin and St.Elizabeth were witches, and Paul and John should have been burnt as wizards.

Continue, Lady, leaving out your dreams until a more convenient time." "Sir," went on Cicely, "we have worked no sorcery, and my crime is that I will not name my child a bastard and sign away my lands and goods to yonder Abbot, the murderer of my father and perhaps of my husband.