“Why, how now, my masters?” said he, with a voice in which all three emotions were blended. “What order is this among ye? Be ye Turks or Christians, that handle a churchman?⁠—Know ye what it is, manus imponere in servos Domini ? Ye have plundered my mails⁠—torn my cope of curious cut lace, which might have served a cardinal!⁠—Another in my place would have been at his excommunicabo vos ; but I am placible, and if ye order forth my palfreys, release my brethren, and restore my mails, tell down with all speed an hundred crowns to be expended in masses at the high altar of Jorvaulx Abbey, and make your vow to eat no venison until next Pentecost , it may be you shall hear little more of this mad frolic.”

“Holy Father,” said the chief Outlaw, “it grieves me to think that you have met with such usage from any of my followers, as calls for your fatherly reprehension.”