illain!"

"Very good, my lord," said the other.

Then Talbot made the thief swear that he would never set foot in a
church again, which made all who were present and who heard it, laugh,
though they pitied the thief because Lord Talbot had forbidden him
the church for ever, and made him swear never to enter it. Yet we may
believe that he did it with a good motive and intention. Thus you
have heard the two judgments of Lord Talbot, which were such as I have
related to you.

*****

STORY THE SIXTH -- THE DRUNKARD IN PARADISE. [6]

By Monseigneur de Lannoy

_The sixth story is of a drunkard, who would confess to the Prior of the
Augustines at the Hague, and after his confession said that he was then
in a holy state and would die; and believed that his head was cut off
and that he was dead, and was carried away by his companions who said
they were going to bury him._

In the city of The Hague in Holland, as the prior of the Augustine
Monastery was one day saying his prayers on the lawn near the chapel of
St. Antony, he was accosted by a great, big Dutchman who was exceedingly
drunk, and who lived in a village called Schevingen, about two leagues
from there.

The prior, who saw him coming from afar, guessed his condition by his
heavy and uncertain step, and when they met, the drunkard saluted the
prior, who returned the salute, and passed on reading his prayers,
proposing neither to stop nor question him.

The drunkard, being half beside himself, turned and pursued the prior,
and demanded to be confessed.

"Confession!" said the prior. "Go away! Go away! You have confessed
already."

"Alas, sir," replied the drunkard, "for God's sake confess me. At
present, I remember all my sins, and am most contrite."

The prior, displeased to be interrupted by a drunkard, replied.

"Go your ways; you have no need of confession, for you are in a very
comfortable case as it is."

"Oh, no," said the drunkard, "as sure as death you shall confess me,
master Cure, for I am most devout," and he seized him by the sleeve, and
would have stopped him.

The priest would not listen to him, and made wonderful efforts to
escape, but it was no good, for the other was obstinate in his desire to
confess, which the priest would not hear.

The devotion of the drunkard increased more and more, and when he saw
that the priest still refused to hear his sins, he put his hand on his
big knife and drew it from its sheath, and told the