And flinch not; but this Shaveling's meagre face,

With his mass-hackle and his reef and stole,

Would wish his pleasure signified to Dunstan

Touching his coronation. Some there be

That blink the service, lest through sorceries

And conjurations of the villanous Abbot,

A curse should cross them; but thy brain, we know, Brooks not such vain bewilderments.

ATHULF.

I vow,

Meat to my mouth goes not with better speed

Than I upon this errand.

CLARENBALD.

Excellent!

Abounding in all fortitude of soul

I ever knew you. Here's St. Tibba's thumb,

A relic of much price, which ne'er till now
Was parted from me; put it in your vest,
And heartily we bid you well to fare.

[Exeunt.

SCENE IX.

A CORRIDOR IN A MONASTERY AT SHEEN.

TWO MONKS.

FIRST MONK.

He slept two hours-no more; then raised his head,

He raised himself, and said,

'Methinks it raineth'-pointing with his hand. The word was even as though an Angel's tongue Had spoken, and when I looked, it rained apace.

SECOND MONK.

Against such blows what body of mortal man

Could e'er hold out?

He's on the way to heaven

Unless he deal more mildly with his flesh.

He coughed and spat, and labouringly as 'twere.

FIRST MONK.

He raised his body-which is just his bones-
Upon one hand, and with the other pointed.

And Father Bridferth met me in the Court,

And quoth he, Hast thou seen the holy Dunstan ?'

I answered

Yes, and on his wasted hand

There were red stains caught from the nightly scourge.'

SECOND MONK.

Nightly and daily, Brother. At this hour
He plies it for a double De Profundis.'

As I passed out, the Primate came, and said,

Is the Lord Abbot risen?' And I replied,

He rose at five. I gave him his hair-shirt.

GRIMBALD.

FIRST MONK.

At four he called for me, and sate upright,

And on his hand, that when he raised himself Was pointed outward-so

ATHULF.

I pray you tell him,

Earl Athulf, on an errand from the King,

Would be beholden to his courtesy

For some three minutes of his time.

SECOND MONK.

My Lord,

Unless your business be of instant haste
He hardly will bestow himself so early
On aught of secular concernment.

ATHULF.

No?

But, sirs, it is in haste-in haste extreme

Matters of State, and hot with haste.

SECOND MONK.

My Lord,

We will so say, but truly at this present

He is about to scourge himself.

ATHULF.

I'll wait.

For a King's ransom would I not cut short

So good a work ! I pray you, for how long ?

SECOND MONK.

For twice the 'De Profundis'-sung in slow time.

ATHULF.

Please him to make it ten times, I will wait.
And could I be of use, this knotted trifle,

This dog-whip here, has oft been worse employed.

FIRST MONK.

My Lord, we'll bring you to the room where stand
The poor, whose feet he washes after penance,
Whence you may see him in the oratory

Plying the blood-stained scourge. Tread softly, Sirs,
For he were not well pleased should he discover
That stranger's eyes beheld him.

[Exeunt.