Chapter 7 - Page 2

tender conscience, son Wilkin, though thou
hast but a rough and borrel bearing."

"Well, then," said Wilkin, "you are to know, good father, that I
have had some dealings with my neighbour, Jan Vanwelt, concerning
my daughter Rose, and that he has paid me certain gilders on
condition I will match her to him."

"Pshaw, pshaw! my good son," said the disappointed confessor,
"this gear can lie over--this is no time for marrying or giving in
marriage, when we are all like to be murdered."

"Nay, but hear me, good father," said the Fleming, "for this point
of conscience concerns the present case more nearly than you wot
of.--You must know I have no will to bestow Rose on this same Jan
Vanwelt, who is old, and of ill conditions; and I would know of
you whether I may, in conscience, refuse him my consent?"

"Truly," said Father Aldrovand, "Rose is a pretty lass, though
somewhat hasty; and I think you may honestly withdraw your
consent, always on paying back the gilders you have received."

"But there lies the pinch, good father," said the Fleming--"the
refunding this money will reduce me to utter poverty. The Welsh
have destroyed my substance; and this handful of money is all, God
help me! on which I must begin the world again."

"Nevertheless, son Wilkin," said Aldrovand, "thou must keep thy
word, or pay the forfeit; for what saith the text? _Quis
habitabit in tabernaculo, quis requiescet in monte sancta?_--
Who shall ascend to the tabernacle, and dwell in the holy
mountain? Is it not answered again, _Qui jurat proximo et non
decipit?_--Go to, my son--break not thy plighted word for a
little filthy lucre--better is an empty stomach and an hungry
heart with a clear conscience, than a fatted ox with iniquity and
wordbreaking.--Sawest thou not our late noble lord, who (may his
soul be happy!) chose rather to die in unequal battle, like a true
knight, than live a perjured man, though he had but spoken a rash
word to a Welshman over a wine flask?"

"Alas! then," said the Fleming, "this is even what I feared! We
must e'en render up the castle, or restore to the Welshman,
Jorworth, the cattle, by means of which I had schemed to victual
and defend it."

"How--wherefore--what dost thou mean?" said the monk, in
astonishment. "I speak to thee of Rose Flammock, and Jan Van-
devil, or whatever you call him, and you reply with talk about
cattle and castles, and I wot not what!"

"So please you, holy father, I did but speak in parables. This
castle was the daughter I had promised to deliver over--the
Welshman is