"Yes, truly," said the priest, "it was a very good confession. Go, and
sin no more!"

"Then, since I have well confessed and received absolution, if I were to
die now, should I go to paradise?" asked the drunkard.

"Straight! Straight!" replied the priest. "There can be no doubt about
it."

"Since that is so," said the drunkard, "and I am now in a holy state, I
would like to die at once, in order that I may go to heaven."

With that he took and gave his knife to the priest, begging of him to
cut off his head, in order that he might go to paradise.

"Oh, no!" said the priest, much astonished. "It is not my business to do
that--you must go to heaven by some other means."

"No," replied the drunkard, "I wish to go there now, and to die here by
your hands. Come, and kill me."

"I will not do that," said the prior. "A priest must not kill any one."

"You shall I swear; and if you do not at once despatch me and send me
to heaven I will kill you with my own hands," and at these words
he brandished his big knife before the eyes of the priest, who was
terrified and alarmed.

At last, having thought the matter over,--that he might get rid of this
drunkard, who was becoming more and more aggressive, and perchance might