That is your affair; but it is I, Joseph the summoner,
who have been grievously and criminally mishandled, my writs,
papers and indentures destroyed, my authority flouted, and my
person dragged through a bog, quagmire or morass, so that my
velvet gabardine and silver badge of office were lost and are, as
I verily believe, in the morass, quagmire or bog aforementioned,
which is the same bog, morass--"
"Enough!" cried the Abbot sternly. "Lay aside this foolish
fashion of speech and say straitly what you desire."
"Holy father, I have been the officer of the King's law no less
than the servant of Holy Church, and I have been let, hindered and
assaulted in the performance of my lawful and proper duties,
whilst my papers, drawn in the King's name, have been shended and
rended and cast to the wind. Therefore, I demand justice upon
this man in the Abbey court, the said assault having been
committed within the banlieue of the Abbey's jurisdiction."
"What have you to say to this, brother sacrist?" asked the Abbot
in some perplexity.
"I would say, father, that it is within our power to deal gently
and charitably with all that concerns ourselves, but that where a
the King's officer is concerned we are wanting in our duty if we
give him less than the protection that he demands. I would remind
you also, holy father, that this is not the first of this man's
violence, but that he has before now beaten our servants, defied
our authority, and put pike in the Abbot's own fish-pond.
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