"What more?" demanded the abbot, seeing that the monk appeared to
hesitate.

"Nay, I know not whether the rest of the rhymes may please you, lord
abbot," replied Father Eastgate.

"Let me hear them, and I will judge," said Paslew. Thus urged, the monk
went on:--

"'One shall sit at a solemn feast,
Half warrior, half priest,
The greatest there shall be the least.'"

"The last verse," observed the monk, "has been added to the ditty by
Nicholas Demdike. I heard him sing it the other day at the abbey gate."

"What, Nicholas Demdike of Worston?" cried the abbot; "he whose wife is
a witch?"

"The same," replied Eastgate.

"Hoo be so ceawnted, sure eno," remarked the forester, who had been
listening attentively to their discourse, and who now stepped forward;
"boh dunna yo think it. Beleemy, lort abbut, Bess Demdike's too yunk an
too protty for a witch."

"Thou art bewitched by her thyself, Cuthbert," said the abbot, angrily.
"I shall impose a penance upon thee, to free thee from the evil
influence. Thou must recite twenty paternosters daily, fasting, for one
month; and afterwards perform a pilgrimage to the shrine of our Lady of