got into his coach again.

Neither do I know how I got out of the room; but next morning when the sun
rose, and I found myself lying in bed at Master Seep his ale-house, the
whole _casus_ seemed to me like a dream; neither was I able to rise, but
lay a-bed all the blessed Saturday and Sunday, talking all manner of
_allotria_. It was not till towards evening on Sunday, when I began to
vomit and threw up green bile (no wonder!), that I got somewhat better.
About this time _Pastor Benzensis_ came to my bedside, and told me how
distractedly I had borne myself, but so comforted me from the word of God,
that I was once more able to pray from my heart. May the merciful God
reward my dear gossip, therefore, at the day of judgment! For prayer is
almost as brave a comforter as the Holy Ghost himself, from whom it comes;
and I shall ever consider that so long as a man can still pray, his
misfortunes are not unbearable, even though in all else "his flesh and his
heart faileth" (Psalm lxxiii.).




_The Twenty-fifth Chapter_


HOW SATAN SIFTED ME LIKE WHEAT, WHEREAS MY DAUGHTER WITHSTOOD HIM RIGHT
BRAVELY

On Monday I left my bed betimes, and as I felt in passable good case, I
went up to the castle to see whether I might peradventure get to my
daughter, but I could not find either constable, albeit I had brought a
few groats with me to give them as beer-money; neither would the folks