“Dear Baisemeaux, booted though I be, I feel myself a priest, and charity has higher claims upon me than hunger and thirst. This unfortunate man has suffered long enough, since you have just told me that he has been your prisoner these ten years.

Abridge his suffering. His good time has come; give him the benefit quickly. God will repay you in Paradise with years of felicity.”

“You wish it?”

“I entreat you.”

“What! in the very middle of our repast?”

“I implore you; such an action is worth ten Benedicites.”

“It shall be as you desire, only our supper will get cold.”