CHAPTER XXXII
IN the refectory allusion was made, at the table where Gerard sat, tothe sudden death of the monk, who had undertaken to write out freshcopies of the charter of the monastery, and the rule, etc.
Gerard caught this, and timidly offered his services. There was ahesitation which he mistook. "Nay, not for hire, my lords, but for love,and as a trifling return for many a good night's lodging the brethren ofyour order have bestowed on me a poor wayfarer."
A monk smiled approvingly; but hinted that the late brother was anexcellent penman, and his work could not be continued but by a master.Gerard, on this, drew from his wallet with some trepidation a vellumdeed, the back of which he had cleaned and written upon by way ofspecimen. The monk gave quite a start at sight of it, and very hastilywent up the hall to the high table, and bending his knee so as just totouch in passing the fifth step and the tenth, or last, presented it tothe prior with comments. Instantly a dozen knowing eyes were fixed onit: and a buzz of voices was heard; and soon Gerard saw the prior pointmore than once, and the monk came back, looking as proud as Punch, witha savory crustade ryal, or game pie gravied and spiced, for Gerard, anda silver grace cup full of rich pimentum. This latter Gerard took, andbowing low, first to the distant prior, then to his own company,quaffed, and circulated the cup.
Instantly, to his surprise, the whole table hailed him as a brother:"Art convent bred, deny it not?" He acknowledged it, and gave Heaventhanks for it, for otherwise he had been as rude and ignorant as hisbrothers, Sybrandt and Cornelis. "But, 'tis passing strange how youcould know," said he.
"You drank with the cup in both hands," said two monks, speakingtogether.
The voices had for some time been loudish round a table at the bottom ofthe hall: but presently came a burst of mirth so obstreperous andprolonged, that the prior sent the very sub-prior all down the hall tocheck it, and inflict penance on every monk at the table. And Gerard'scheek burned with shame: for in the heart of the unruly merriment hisear had caught the word "courage!" and the trumpet tones of Denys ofBurgundy.
Soon Gerard was installed in feu Werter's cell, with wax lights, and alittle frame that could be set at any angle, and all the materials ofcaligraphy. The work however was too much for one evening. Then came thequestion, how could he ask Denys, the monk-hater, to stay longer?However he told him, and offered to abide by his decision. He wasagreeably surprised when Denys said, graciously, "A day's rest will doneither of us harm. Write thou, and I'll pass the time as I may."
Gerard's work was vastly admired; they agreed that the records of themonastery had gained by poor Werter's death. The sub-prior forced arix-dollar on Gerard, and several brushes and colours out of the conventstock, which was very large. He resumed his march warm at heart: forthis was of good omen; since it was on the pen he relied to make hisfortune and recover his well-beloved. "Come, Denys," said he, goodhumouredly, "see what the good monks have given me: now, do try to befairer to them; for to be round with you, it chilled my friendship for amoment to hear even you call my benefactors 'hypocrites.'"
"I recant," said Denys.
"Thank you! thank you! Good Denys."
"I was a scurrilous vagabond."
"Nay, nay, say not so, neither!"
"But we soldiers are rude and hasty. I give myself the lie, and I offerthose I misunderstood all my esteem. 'Tis unjust that thousands shouldbe defamed for the hypocrisy of a few."
"Now are you reasonable. You have pondered what I said?"
"Nay, it is their own doing."
Gerard crowed a little, we all like to be proved in the right; and wasall attention when Denys offered to relate how his conversion waseffected.
"Well then, at dinner the first day, a young monk beside me did open hisjaws and laughed right out most musically. 'Good,' said I, 'at last Ihave fallen on a man and not a shorn ape.' So, to sound him further, Islapped his broad back and administered my consigne. 'Heaven forbid!'says he. I stared. For the dog looked as sad as Solomon: a better mimesaw you never, even at a Mystery. 'I see war is no sharpener of thewits,' said he. 'What are the clergy for but to fight the foul fiend?and what else are monks for?
"The fiend being dead, The friars are sped."
You may plough up the convents and we poor monks shall have nought todo--but turn soldiers, and so bring him to life again.' Then there was agreat laugh at my expense. 'Well, you are the monk for me,' said I. 'Andyou are the cross-bow-man for me,' quo' he. 'And I'll be bound you couldtell us tales of the war should make our hair stand on end.' 'Excusezthe barber has put that out of question,' quoth I, and then I had thelaugh."
"What wretched ribaldry!" observed Gerard pensively.
The candid Denys at once admitted he had seen merrier jests hatched withless cackle. "'Twas a great matter to have got rid of hypocrisy. 'So,'said I, 'I can give you the chare de poule, if that may content ye.''That we will see,' was the cry, and a signal went round."
Denys then related, bursting with glee, how at bedtime he had been takento a cell instead of the great dortour, and strictly forbidden to sleep;and, to aid his vigil, a book had been lent him of pictures representinga hundred merry adventures of monks in pursuit of the female laity: andhow in due course he had been taken out barefooted and down to theparlour, where was a supper fit for the duke, and at it twelve jollyfriars, the roaringest boys he had ever met in peace or war. How thestory, the toast, the jest, the wine cup had gone round, and some hadplayed cards with a gorgeous pack, where Saint Theresa, and SaintCatharine, etc., bedizened with gold, stood for the four queens; andblack, white, grey, and crutched friars for the four knaves; and hadstaked their very rosaries, swearing like troopers when they lost. Andhow about midnight a sly monk had stolen out, but had by him and othersbeen as cannily followed into the garden, and seen to thrust his handinto the ivy and out with a ropeladder. With this he had run up on thewall, which was ten feet broad, yet not so nimbly but what a russetkirtle had popped up from the outer world as quick as he: and so tobilling and cooing: that this situation had struck him as rather felinethan ecclesiastical, and drawn from him the appropriate comment of a"mew!" The monks had joined the mewsical chorus, and the lay visitorshrieked and been sore discomforted; but Abelard only cried "What, areye there, ye jealous miauling knaves? ye shall caterwaul to some tuneto-morrow night. I'll fit every manjack of ye with a fardingale." Thatthis brutal threat had reconciled him to stay another day--at Gerard'srequest.
Gerard groaned.
Meantime, unable to disconcert so brazen a monk, and the demoisellebeginning to whimper, they had danced caterwauling in a circle, thenbestowed a solemn benediction on the two wallflowers, and off to theparlour, where they found a pair lying dead drunk, and the other twoaffectionate to tears. That they had straightway carried off theinanimate, and dragged off the loving and lachrymose, kicked them allmerrily each into his cell,
"And so shut up in measureless content."
Gerard was disgusted: and said so.
Denys chuckled, and proceeded to tell him how the next day he and theyoung monks had drawn the fish-ponds and secreted much pike, carp,tench, and eel for their own use: and how in the dead of night he hadbeen taken shoeless by crooked ways into the chapel, a ghostlike place,being dark, and then down some steps into a crypt below the chapelfloor, where suddenly paradise had burst on him.
"'Tis there the holy fathers retire to pray," put in Gerard.
"Not always," said Denys: "wax candles by the dozen were lighted, andprincely cheer; fifteen soups maigre, with marvellous twangs of venison,grouse, and hare in them, and twenty different fishes (being Friday),cooked with wondrous art, and each he between two buxom lasses, and eachlass between two lads with a cowl; all but me: and to think I had towoo by interpreter. I doubt the knave put in three words for himself andone for me: if he didn't, hang him for a fool. And some of the weakervessels were novices, and not wont to hold good wine: had to be coaxedere they would put it to their white teeth: mais elles s'y faisaient;and the story, and th
e jest, and the cup went round (by-the-by they hadflagons made to simulate breviaries): and a monk touched the cittern,and sang ditties with a voice tuneable as a lark in spring. The posiesdid turn the faces of the women-folk bright red at first: but elles s'yfaisaient." Here Gerard exploded.
"Miserable wretches! Corrupters of youth! Perverters of innocence! butfor you being there, Denys, who have been taught no better, oh, wouldGod the church had fallen on the whole gang. Impious, abominable,hypocrites!"
"Hypocrites?" cried Denys with unfeigned surprise. "Why that is what Iclept them ere I knew them: and you withstood me. Nay, they are sinners;all good fellows are that: but, by St. Denys his helmeted skull, nohypocrites, but right jolly roaring blades."
"Denys," said Gerard solemnly; "you little know the peril you ran thatnight. That church you defiled amongst you is haunted: I had it from oneof the elder monks. The dead walk there, their light feet have beenheard to patter o'er the stones."
"Misericorde!" whispered Denys.
"Ay, more," said Gerard, lowering his voice almost to a whisper,"celestial sounds have issued from the purlieus of that very crypt youturned into a tavern. Voices of the dead holding unearthly communionhave chilled the ear of midnight, and at times, Denys, the faithful intheir nightly watches have even heard music from dead lips; and chords,made by no mortal finger, swept by no mortal hand, have rung faintly,like echoes, deep among the dead in those sacred vaults."
Denys wore a look of dismay. "Ugh! if I had known, mules and wain-ropeshad not hauled me thither; and so" (with a sigh) "I had lost a merrytime."
Whether further discussion might have thrown any more light upon theseghostly sounds who can tell? for up came a "bearded brother" from themonastery, spurring his mule, and waving a piece of vellum in his hand.It was the deed between Ghysbrecht and Floris Brandt. Gerard valued itdeeply as a remembrance of home: he turned pale at first but to thinkhe had so nearly lost it, and to Denys's infinite amusement not onlygave a piece of money to the lay brother, but kissed the mule's nose.
"I'll read you now," said Gerard "were you twice as ill written; and--tomake sure of never losing you"--here he sat down and taking out needleand thread sewed it with feminine dexterity to his doublet, and hismind, and heart, and soul were away to Sevenbergen.
They reached the promised land, and Denys, who was in high spirits,doffed his bonnet to all the females; who curtsied and smiled in return;fired his consigne at most of the men; at which some stared, somegrinned, some both; and finally landed his friend at one of thelong-promised Burgundian inns.
"It is a little one," said he, "but I know it of old for a good one;'Les Trois Poissons.' But what is this writ up? I mind not this:" and hepointed to an inscription that ran across the whole building in a singleline of huge letters. "Oh I see. 'Ici on loge a pied et a cheval,'" saidDenys going minutely through the inscription, and looking bumptious whenhe had effected it.
Gerard did look, and the sentence in question ran thus--
"ON NE LOGE CEANS A CREDIT: CE BONHOMME EST MORT, LES MAUVAIS PAIEURSL'ONT TUE."
The Cloister and the Hearth: A Tale of the Middle Ages Page 33
