She had a mind to
speak to the cure, and tell him what she thought of it, and for this
purpose sent for him to come to her after service. When he was come,
"Monsieur le Cure," she said to him, "I don't know where you have
learned to officiate on a day like this, when the people ought to be all
humility. But to hear you perform the service is enough to drive away
anybody's devotion." "How so, madame?" said the cure. "How so?"
responded the lady. "You have said a Passion contrary to all rules of
decency. When our Lord speaks you cry as if you were in the town-hall,
and when it is Caiaphas, or Pilate, or the Jews, you speak softly like a
young bride. Is this becoming in one like you? Are you fit to be a cure?
If you had what you deserve, you would be turned out of your benefice,
and then you would be made to know your fault." When the cure had very
attentively listened to the good lady, "Is this what you have to say to
me, madame?" said he. "By my soul! it is very true what you say, and the
truth is, there are many people who talk of things which they do not
understand. Madame, I believe I know my office as well as another, and
beg all the world to know that God is as well served in this parish
according to its condition as in any place within a hundred leagues of
it. I know very well that the other cures chant the Passion quite
differently.
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