The priest went on to ask: "Art thou not a gourmand?" Said the
labourer, who understood as little as before: "No." "Art thou not
superbe" [proud]? "No." "Art thou not iracund" [passionate]? "No." The
priest, seeing the man always answer, "No," was somewhat surprised. "Art
thou not concupiscent?" "No." "And what are thou, then?" said the
priest. "I am," said he, "a mason--here's my trowel."
* * * * *
Readers acquainted with the _fabliaux_ of the minstrels (the Trouveres)
of Northern France know that those light-hearted gentry very often
launched their satirical shafts at the churchmen of their day. One of
the _fabliaux_ in Barbazan's collection relates how a doltish,
thick-headed priest was officiating in his church on Good Friday, and
when about to read the service for that day he discovered that he had
lost his book-mark ("_mais il ot perdu ses festuz_.")[154] Then he began
to go back and turn over the leaves, but until Ascension Day he found
not the Passion service. And the assembled peasants fretted and
complained that he made them fast too long, since it was time for the
festival. "Had he but said them the service," interjects the _fableur_,
"should I make you a longer story?" So much did they grumble on all
sides, that the priest began on them and fell to saying very rapidly,
first in a loud and then in a low tone of voice, "_Dixit Dominus Domino
meo_" (the Lord said unto my Lord); "but," says the _fableur_, "I cannot
find here any sequel.
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