When his transports of rage allowed him to speak, he broke forth with oaths too blasphemous to write on a white page.
"The fawning hypocrite!" he cried.

"He thinks to cozen us with his cheap words.

The biting insult in his missive is that he takes it for granted that we are so great a fool as to believe him.

Even his recommendation of a saint is a lie.

The world knows his favorite saint is Saint Andrew.
King Louis spends half his time grovelling on his marrow bones before that saint and the Blessed Virgin.