priest. "I am," said he, "a mason--here's my trowel."

* * * * *

Readers acquainted with the _fabliaux_ of the minstrels (the Trouvères)
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." The priest having read the text as chance might
lead him, read the vespers for Sunday;--and you must know he travailed
hard, that the offerings should be worth something to him. Then he fell
to crying, "Barabbas!"--no crier could have cried a ban so loud as he
cried to them; and everyone began to confess his sins aloud (i.e.,
struck up "_mea culpa_") and cried, "Mercy!" The priest, who read on the
sequence of his Psalter, once more began to cry out, saying, "Crucify
him!" So that both men and women prayed God that he would defend them
from torment. But it sorely vexed the clerk, who said to the priest,
"Make an end"; but he answered, "Make no end, friend, till 'unto the
marvellous works'"--referring to a passage in the Psalter. The clerk