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"Now, I pray you, brothers, for charity's sake, give me somewhat
to buy a crust of bread, e'en though it be only a penny."
"I tell thee, fellow, we have no money," thundered the fat little
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Friar with the great voice.
"Ha' ye, in holy truth, no money?" asked Little John.
"Not a farthing," said the lean Friar sourly.
"Not a groat," said the fat Friar loudly.
"Nay," quoth Little John, "this must not be. Far be it from me
to see such holy men as ye are depart from me with no money.
Get both of you down straightway from off your horses,
and we will kneel here in the middle of the crossroads and pray
the blessed Saint Dunstan to send us some money to carry us
on our journey."
"What sayest thou, thou limb of evil!" cried the lean Friar,
fairly gnashing his teeth with rage. "Doss thou bid me, the high
cellarer of Fountain Abbey, to get down from my horse and kneel
in the dirty road to pray to some beggarly Saxon saint?"
"Now," quoth Little John, "I ha' a great part of a mind to crack thy
head for thee for speaking thus of the good Saint Dunstan! But get
down straightway, for my patience will not last much longer,
and I may forget that ye are both in holy orders." So saying,
he twirled his stout staff till it whistled again.
At this speech both friars grew as pale as dough.
Down slipped the fat Brother from off his horse on one side,
and down slipped the lean Brother on the other.
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"Now, brothers, down on your knees and pray," said Little John;
thereupon, putting his heavy hands upon the shoulder of each,
he forced them to their knees, he kneeling also. Then Little John began
to beseech Saint Dunstan for money, which he did in a great loud voice.
After he had so besought the Saint for a time, he bade the friars
feel in their pouches and see if the Saint had sent them anything;
so each put his hand slowly in the pouch that hung beside him,
but brought nothing thence.
"Ha!" quoth Little John, "have your prayers so little virtue?
Then let us at it again." Then straightway he began calling
on Saint Dunstan again, somewhat in this wise: "O gracious
Saint Dunstan! Send some money straightway to these poor folk,
lest the fat one waste away and grow as lean as the lean one,
and the lean one waste away to nothing at all, ere they get to
Lincoln Town; but send them only ten shillings apiece, lest they
grow puffed up with pride, Any more than that that thou sendest,
send to me.
"Now," quoth he, rising, "let us see what each man hath."
Then he thrust his hand into his pouch and drew thence four golden angels.
"What have ye, brothers?" said he.
Then once again each friar slowly thrust his hand into his pouch,
and once again brought it out with nothing in it.
"Have ye nothing?" quoth Little John. "Nay, I warrant there is somewhat
that hath crept into the seams of your pouches, and so ye ha' missed it.
Let me look."
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So he went first to the lean Friar, and, thrusting his hand into the pouch,
he drew forth a leathern bag and counted therefrom one hundred and ten pounds
of golden money. "I thought," quoth Little John, "that thou hadst missed,
in some odd corner of thy pouch, the money that the blessed Saint had
sent thee. And now let me see whether thou hast not some, also, brother."
Thereupon he thrust his hand into the pouch of the fat Friar and drew thence
a bag like the other and counted out from it threescore and ten pounds.
"Look ye now," quoth he, "I knew the good Saint had sent thee some pittance
that thou, also, hadst missed."
Then, giving them one pound between them, he slipped the rest
of the money into his own pouch, saying, "Ye pledged me
your holy word that ye had no money. Being holy men, I trust
that ye would not belie your word so pledged, therefore I know
the good Saint Dunstan hath sent this in answer to my prayers.
But as I only prayed for ten shillings to be sent to each of you,
all over and above that belongeth by rights to me, and so I take it.
I give you good den, brothers, and may ye have a pleasant
journey henceforth." So saying, he turned and left them,
striding away. The friars looked at one another with a woeful look,
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