was slain by his servant. But Stow reminds us that the prosperity of
the wicked is frail. Not long after David was hanged at Tyburn for
felony, and the chronicler concludes: "Let such false accusers note
this for example, and look for no better end without speedy
repentance." He omits to draw any moral from the intemperance of the
master and the danger of drunkenness.

But let this suffice for the jousts in Smithfield. The old gateway
heard on one occasion strange noises in the church, Archbishop
Boniface raging with oaths not to be recited, and sounds of strife and
shrieks and angry cries. This foreigner, Archbishop of Canterbury, had
dared to come with his armed retainers from Provence to hold a
visitation of the priory. The canons received him with solemn pomp,
but respectfully declined to be visited by him, as they had their own
proper visitor, a learned man, the Bishop of London, and did not care
for another inspector. Boniface lost his temper, struck the sub-prior,
saying, "Indeed, doth it become you English traitors so to answer me?"
He tore in pieces the rich cope of the sub-prior; the canons rushed to
their brother's rescue and knocked the Archbishop down; but his men
fell upon the canons and beat them and trod them under foot. The old
gateway was shocked and grieved to see the reverend canons running
beneath the arch bloody and miry, rent and torn, carrying their
complaint to the Bishop and then to the King at Westminster. After
which there was much contention, and the whole city rose and would
have torn the Archbishop into small pieces, shouting, "Where is this
ruffian? that cruel smiter!" and much else that must have frightened
and astonished Master Boniface and made him wish that he had never set
foot in England, but stayed quietly in peaceful Provence.

But this gateway loved to look upon the great fair that took place on