Cardinal Ivo, on the other hand, belongs to the loyal group. ‘Master Peter Abélard,’ he is told, ‘a prelate without dependency, observes no order and is restrained by no order.... He is a Herod in his soul, a Baptist in outward appearance.’ However, that is not my business, says the diplomatist, ‘every man shall bear his own burden.’ Bernard is concerned about his heresies, and his boast that he will be protected by a certain faction in the curia. Ivo must do his duty ‘in freeing the Church from the lips of the wicked.’ A young unnamed cardinal is appealed to for support. ‘Let no man despise thy youth,’ begins the man who calls Abélard a ‘slippery serpent’; ‘not grey hair but a sober mind is what God looks to.’ Another cardinal, who had a custom of rising when any person entered his room, is playfully approached with a reminder of this: ‘If thou art indeed a son of the Church,’ the note ends, ‘defend the womb that has borne thee and the breasts that have suckled thee.’ Guido of Pisa receives a similar appeal: ‘If thou art a son of the Church, if thou knowest the breast of thy mother, desert her not in her peril.’ The letter to another Cardinal Guido is particularly vicious and unworthy. ‘I cannot but write you,’ it begins, ‘of the dishonour to Christ, the trials and sorrows of the Church, the misery of the helpless, and groans of the poor.’ What is the matter? This: ‘We have here in France a monk who observes no rule, a prelate without care, an abbot without discipline, one Peter Abélard, who disputes with boys and busies himself with women.’ There is a nasty ambiguity in the last phrase. Again, ‘We have escaped the roar of the lion [Pierleone] only to hear the hissing of the dragon Peter.... If the mouth of the wicked be not closed, may He who alone regards our works consider and condemn.’ A similar letter is addressed to Cardinal Stephen of Praeneste. ‘I freely write to you, whom I know to be a friend of the spouse, of the trials and sorrows of the spouse of Christ.’ Abélard is ‘an enemy of Christ,’ as is proved, not only by his works, but by ‘his life and actions.’ He has ‘sallied forth from his den like a slippery serpent’; he is ‘a hydra,’ growing seven new heads where one has been cut off. He ‘misleads the simple,’ and finally ‘boasts that he has inoculated the Roman curia with the poison of his novelty.’