on fish from this pond, and had taken
two or three mouthfuls of a large pike, when he shouted "Look! look!
here is come a fellow who is going to choke me." He died on the spot,
killed by the fish he had reared on the scene of his sacrilege.
Adjoining the land stolen by Ushborne was the Infirmary, (now
College) Garden, where sick brothers took exercise. Of the infirmary,
only a few fragments of arches remain--but these undoubtedly date
from the time of the Confessor. Here the sick monks dwelt, visited at
times by the long procession of the healthy brethren. Here also lived
the "playfellows"--the monks over fifty years of age--who were told
nothing unpleasant, were freed from the ordinary rules, and were
permitted to enjoy the privilege of censuring anything they heard or
saw.

The Infirmary Chapel (in which, by the way, the young monks were
privately whipped to spare them from the more public floggings in the
Chapter-House) was dedicated to St. Catherine. Many bishops were
consecrated and many church councils held in this building, of which
only a few arcades and pillars forming part of modern buildings now
mark the site. A curious scene was enacted here, at a church
assembly, in 1124, when the Archbishops of York and Canterbury
quarrelled about precedence. Richard of Canterbury took his seat on
the right-hand side of the Pope's Legate, whereupon, Roger of York,
who claimed that place, went and sat down in Canterbury's lap. He was
speedily pulled off by Canterbury's servants, and much knocked about.
Severely bruised, and with his cope torn, York rushed into the Abbey,
where he found the king, and told his wrongs. The king bound over
both the archbishops to keep the peace for five years, and the Pope
issued an edict that Canterbury should be Primate of all England,
and York Primate of England.

In the next century, St. Catherine's Chapel witnessed a stirring
scene, when Henry III., holding in one hand a Gospel, in the other a
lighted taper, swore to uphold Magna Charta. The king and all the
great dignitaries present threw their candles on the ground, then
holding their noses and shutting their eyes, they exclaimed "So go
out in smoke and stench the accursed souls of those who break or
pervert this charter." No voice was louder than that of the king's in
shouting "Amen and Amen!" and yet somehow, in future years, he did
not seem to bear in mind his solemn covenant. It was quite as well
for England that he did not, for o