ss to take her and the
gallant in the act. So they held their peace, and arranged between them
to keep her in watch and close espial, that they might catch her
unawares. Of which practice Isabetta recking, witting nought, it so
befell that one night, when she had her lover to see her, the sisters
that were on the watch were soon ware of it, and at what they deemed the
nick of time parted into two companies of which one mounted guard at the
threshold of Isabetta's cell, while the other hasted to the abbess's
chamber, and knocking at the door, roused her, and as soon as they heard
her voice, said:--"Up, Madam, without delay: we have discovered that
Isabetta has a young man with her in her cell."
Now that night the abbess had with her a priest whom she used not seldom
to have conveyed to her in a chest; and the report of the sisters making
her apprehensive lest for excess of zeal and hurry they should force the
door open, she rose in a trice; and huddling on her clothes as best she
might in the dark, instead of the veil that they wear, which they call
the psalter, she caught up the priest's breeches, and having clapped them
on her head, hied her forth, and locked the door behind her,
saying:--"Where is this woman accursed of God?" And so, guided by the
sisters, all so agog to catch Isabetta a sinning that they perceived not
what manner of headgear the abbess wore, she made her way to the cell,
and with their aid broke open the door; and entering they found the two
lovers abed in one another's arms; who, as it were, thunderstruck to be
thus surprised, lay there, witting not what to do. The sisters took the
young nun forthwith, and by command of the abbess brought her to the
chapter-house. The gallant, left behind in the cell, put on his clothes
and waited to see how the affair would end, being minded to make as many
nuns as he might come at pay dearly for any despite that might be done
his mistress, and to bring her off with him. The abbess, seated in the
chapter-house with all her nuns about her, and all eyes bent upon the
culprit, began giving her the severest reprimand that ever woman got, for
that by her disgraceful and abominable conduct, should it get wind, she
had sullied the fair fame of the convent; whereto she added menaces most
dire. Shamefast and timorous, the culprit essayed no defence, and her
silence begat pity of her in the rest; but, while the abbess waxed more
and more voluble, it chanced that the girl rai
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