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thee, authority shall.Return again to thy cell; let me hear of this no more.

Ben. I will, reverend Father. But, for the love of our holy saint, bethink you, ere it be too late, that though we may be saved from the pestilence by this bloody sacrifice, what will rescue our throats from the swords of Osterloo's soldiers when they shall return, as they have threatened, to demand from us their General?

Prior. Give thyself no concern about this. My own bands are already called in, and a messenger has been dispatched to the Abbess Matilda; her troops, in defence of the church, will face the best soldiers of the empire.But why lose we time in unprofitable contentions? Go, my sons, (speaking to other Monks.) the night advances fast, and we have much to do ere morning. (Knocking heard without.) Ha! who knocks at this untimely hour? Can the soldiers be indeed returned upon us?—Run to the gate, but open it to none.

Lay-B. Please ye, reverend Father; the Marchioness has sent a messenger from the castle, beseeching you to send a confessor immediately to confess one of her women, who was taken ill yesterday, and is now at the point of death.

Prior. I'm glad it is only this.—What is the matter with the penitent?