(This is the continuation between Jacques and his master's conversation. But first, a little background. In Jacques' story, a poor woman spilled a jar of oil outside an inn and was in hysterics because it was her income for the month. Although Jacques was down to his last pennies, he gave the woman some money. Then Jacques left the village, but bandits assaulted him on his way out. Jacques' master is none too pleased about the whole ordeal.)
Jacques: ... The surgeon... Master, what's wrong with you? You're clenching your teeth and getting all agitated as if you were in the presence of some enemy.
Master: That's exactly what I am. I've got my sword in my hand, I'm descending on your robbers and I'm avenging you. Tell me how it is that whoever wrote out the great scroll could have decreed that such would be the reward of a noble act? Why should I, who am merely a miserable compound of faults, take your defence while He calmly watched you being attacked, knocked down, manhandled and trampled underfoot, He who is supposed to be the embodiment of all perfection?...
Jacques: Master, be quiet, be quiet. What you are saying stinks to high heaven of heresy.
