they were going to bury him._

In the city of The Hague in Holland, as the prior of the Augustine
Monastery was one day saying his prayers on the lawn near the chapel of
St. Antony, he was accosted by a great, big Dutchman who was exceedingly
drunk, and who lived in a village called Schevingen, about two leagues
from there.

The prior, who saw him coming from afar, guessed his condition by his
heavy and uncertain step, and when they met, the drunkard saluted the
prior, who returned the salute, and passed on reading his prayers,
proposing neither to stop nor question him.

The drunkard, being half beside himself, turned and pursued the prior,
and demanded to be confessed.

"Confession!" said the prior. "Go away! Go away! You have confessed
already."

"Alas, sir," replied the drunkard, "for God's sake confess me. At
present, I remember all my sins, and am most contrite."

The prior, displeased to be interrupted by a drunkard, replied.

"Go your ways; you have no need of confession, for you are in a very
comfortable case as it is."

"Oh, no," said the drunkard, "as sure as death you shall confess me,
master Curé, for I am most devout," and he seized him by the sleeve, and
would have stopped him.