thatched in; nay perhaps to have the Choir itself completed, for
he can bear nothing ruinous. He has gathered 'heaps of lime and
sand;' has masons, slaters working, he and _Warinus monachus
noster,_ who are joint keepers of the Shrine; paying out the
money duly,--furnished by charitable burghers of St. Edmundsbury,
they say. Charitable burghers of St. Edmundsbury? To me Jocelin
it seems rather, Samson and Warinus, whom he leads, have privily
hoarded the oblations at the Shrine itself, in these late
years of indolent dilapidation, while Abbot Hugo sat wrapt
inaccessible; and are struggling, in this prudent way, to have
the rain kept out!--Under what conditions, sometimes, has Wisdom
to struggle with Folly; get Folly persuaded to so much as thatch
out the rain from itself! For, indeed, if the Infant govern
the Nurse, what dexterous practice on the Nurse's part will
not be necessary!

It is regret to us that, in these circumstances, our Lord the
King's Custodiars, interfering, prohibited all building or
thatching from whatever source; and no Choir shall be completed,
and Rain and Time, for the present, shall have their way.
Willelmus Sacrista, he of 'the frequent bibations and some things
not to be spoken of;' he, with his red nose, I am of opinion,
had made complaint to the Custodiars; wishing to do Samson an
ill turn:--Samson his _Sub_-sacristan, with those clear eyes,
could not be a prime favourite of his! Samson again obeys
in silence.

Chapter VII

The Canvassing

Now, however, come great news to St. Edmundsbury: That there is
to be an Abbot elected; that our interlunar obscuration is to
cease; St. Edmund's Convent no more to be a doleful widow, but
joyous and once again a bride! Often in our widowed state had we
prayed to the Lord and St. Edmund, singing weekly a matter of
'one-and-twenty penitential Psalms, on our knees in the Choir,'
that a fit Pastor might be vouchsafed us. And, says Jocelin, had
some known what Abbot we were to get, they had not been so
devout, I believe!--Bozzy Jocelin opens to mankind the floodgates
of authentic Convent gossip; we listen, as in a Dionysius' Ear,
to the inanest hubbub, like the voices at Virgil's Horn-Gate of
Dreams. Even gossip, seven centuries off, has significance.
List, list, how like men are to one another in all centuries:

_`Dixit quidam de quodam,_ A certain person said of a certain
person, "He, that _Frater,_ is a good monk, _probab