, yea, very much.

ANTHONY: She was wont, when she sat by the fire with us, to tell
us who were children many childish tales. But as Pliny saith that
there is no book lightly so bad but that a man may pick some good
thing out of it, so think I that there is almost no tale so
foolish but that yet in one matter or another, it may hap to serve
to some purpose.

For I remember me that among others of her foolish tales, she told
us once that the ass and the wolf came upon a time to confession
to the fox. The poor ass came to shrift in Shrovetide, a day or
two before Ash Wednesday. But the wolf would not come to
confession till he saw first Palm Sunday past, and then he put it
off yet further until Good Friday.

The fox asked the ass, before he began _"Benedicite,"_ wherefore
he came to confession so soon, before Lent began. The poor beast
answered him that it was for fear of deadly sin, if he should lose
his part of any of those prayers that the priests in the cleansing
days pray for them who are then confessed already. Then in his
shrift he had a marvellous grudge in his inward conscience, that
he had one day given his master a cause of anger in that, with his
rude roaring before his master arose, he had wakened him out of
his sleep and bereaved him of his rest. The fox, for that fault,
like a good discreet confessor, charged him to do so no more, but
to lie still and sleep like a good son himself until his master
were up and ready to go to work, and so should he be sure that he
should wake him no more.

To tell you all the poor ass's confession, it would be a long
work. For everything that he did was deadly sin with him, the poor
soul was so scrupulous. But his wise wily confessor accounted them
for trifles (as they were) and swore afterward to the badger that
he was so weary to sit so long and hear him that, saving for the
sake of manners, he had rather have sat all that time at breakfast
with a good fat goose. But when it came to the giving of the
penance, the fox found that the most weighty sin in all his shrift
was gluttony. And therefore he discreetly gave him in penance that
he should never for greediness of his food do any other beast any
harm or hindrance. And then he should eat his food and worry no
more.

Now, as good Mother Maud told us, when the wolf came to Father
Reynard (that was, she said, the fox's name) to confession upon
Good Friday, his confessor shook his great pair of beads at him,
almost as