Alone, I departed Mylbroke, o’er the sea onto the land, being of France. By foot, I went forth to a building of mighty steeples. A multitude was gathered unto Cathedrale Coutances, and they were volatile. Much murmurings and sayings were about them. And I went upon the steps. The people settled. A man stepped forward and said, Thou art most beaute, clad in red, likened to one upon a story I have heard. Durst I ask the question? Art thou Sibelle, the prophetess of Mylbroke? I answered, I am. He said with great voice, O Sibelle, servant to his holiness, the true prophetess among us: our land has been torn asunder and annex has come upon our temple. 'Tis enough we stand to the Protestant…lest we suffer their seed. And to the Protestant, we have strength for such war; What's your say?