ants, and most
courteously received. After he had washed his hands, the lady assigned
him a place by her side, and the varlet and the maid-servant prepared to
serve the repast, and first they brought in leek soup, with a good piece
of bacon, a dish of pig's chitterlings, and an ox tongue, roasted.

God knows that as soon as the monk saw the viands he drew forth from
his girdle a fine, long, large, and very sharp knife, and, as he said
_Benedicite_, he set to work in the leek soup.

Very soon he had finished that and the bacon as well, and drew towards
him the fine, fat chitterlings, and rioted amongst them like a wolf
amongst a flock of sheep; and before his hostess had half finished her
soup there was not the ghost of a chitterling left in the dish. Then he
took the ox tongue, and with his sharp knife cut off so many slices that
not a morsel remained.

The lady, who watched all this without saying a word, often glanced at
the varlet and the servant-maid, and they smiled quietly and glanced at
her. Then they brought a piece of good salt beef, and a capital piece
of mutton, and put them on the table. And the good monk, who had an
appetite like a hungry dog, attacked the beef, and if he had had little
pity for the chitterlings and the ox tongue, still less had he for this
fine piece of larded beef.

His hostess who took great pleasure in seeing him eat--which was more
than the varlet and the maid, did for they cursed him beneath their
breath--always filled his cup as soon as it was empty; and you may guess
that if he did not spare the meat neither did he spare the drink.

He was in such a hurry to line his gown that he would hardly say a word.
When the beef was all finished, and great part of the mutton--of which
his hostess had scarcely eaten a mouthful--she, seeing that her guest
was not yet satisfied, made a sign to the servant-maid to bring a huge
ham which had been cooked the day before for the household.

The maid--cursing the priest for gorging so--obeyed the order of her
mistress, and put the ham on the table. The good monk, without staying
to ask "who goes there", fell upon it tooth and nail, and at the very
first attack he carried off the knuckle, then the thick end, and so
dismembered it that soon there was nothing left but the bone.

The serving man and woman did not laugh much at this, for he had
entirely cleared the larder, and they were half afraid that he would eat
them as well.

To shorten the st