the house as a dog doth, he draws not in the plough
as the ox, he yields neither milk nor wool as the sheep, he carrieth no
burden as a horse doth. That which he doth, is only to conskite, spoil,
and defile all, which is the cause wherefore he hath of all men mocks,
frumperies, and bastinadoes.

After the same manner a monk--I mean those lither, idle, lazy monks--doth
not labour and work, as do the peasant and artificer; doth not ward and
defend the country, as doth the man of war; cureth not the sick and
diseased, as the physician doth; doth neither preach nor teach, as do the
evangelical doctors and schoolmasters; doth not import commodities and
things necessary for the commonwealth, as the merchant doth. Therefore is
it that by and of all men they are hooted at, hated, and abhorred. Yea,
but, said Grangousier, they pray to God for us. Nothing less, answered
Gargantua. True it is, that with a tingle tangle jangling of bells they
trouble and disquiet all their neighbours about them. Right, said the
monk; a mass, a matin, a vesper well rung, are half said. They mumble out
great store of legends and psalms, by them not at all understood; they say
many paternosters interlarded with Ave-Maries, without thinking upon or
apprehending the meaning of what it is they say, which truly I call mocking
of God, and not prayers. But so help them God, as they pray for us, and
not for being afraid to lose their victuals, their manchots, and good fat
pottage. All true Christians, of all estates and conditions, in all places
and at all times, send up their prayers to God, and the Mediator prayeth
and intercedeth for them, and God is gracious to them. Now such a one is
our good Friar John; therefore every man desireth to have him in his
company. He is no bigot or hypocrite; he is not torn and divided betwixt
reality and appearance; no wretch of a rugged and peevish disposition, but
honest, jovial, resolute, and a good fellow. He travels, he labours, he
defends the oppressed, comforts the afflicted, helps the needy, and keeps
the close of the abbey. Nay, said the monk, I do a great deal more than
that; for whilst we are in despatching our matins and anniversaries in the
choir, I make withal some crossbow-strings, polish glass bottles and bolts,
I twist lines and weave purse nets wherein to catch coneys. I am never
idle. But now, hither come, some drink, some drink here! Bring the fruit.
These chestnuts are of the wood of Est