And how, as their bodily strength fail'd, the mental man Gain'd tenfold vigour and force in all four;

And how, to the day of their death, the " Old Gentleman "

Never attempted to kidnap them more.

And how, when at length, in the odour of sanctity,
All of them died without grief or complaint;
The Monks of St. Nicholas said 'twas ridiculous
Not to suppose every one was a Saint.

And how, in the Abbey, no one was so shabby
As not to say yearly four masses a head,
On the eve of that supper, and kick on the crupper
Which Satan received, for the souls of the dead!

How folks long held in reverence their reliques and memories,

How the ci-devant Abbot's obtain'd greater still, When some cripples, on touching his fractured os femoris, Threw down their crutches, and danced a quadrille.

And how Abbot Simon, (who turn'd out a prime one,) These words, which grew into a proverb full soon, O'er the late Abbot's grotto, stuck up as a motto, "Who suppes with the Debylle sholde have a long spoone ! ! "

Rohesia, daughter of Ambrose, and sister to Sir Everard, Ingoldsby, was born about the beginning of the 16th century, and was married in 1526, at St. Giles's Cripplegate in the City of London. The following narrative contains all else that is known of

So said the doctor, and doctors are generally allowed to be judges in these matters; besides, Doctor Butts was the Court Physician; he carried a crutchhandled staff, with its cross of the blackest ebony,raison de plus!

"Is there no hope, doctor?" said Beatrice Grey. "Is there no hope ?" said Everard Ingoldsby. "Is there no hope?" said Sir Guy de Montgomeri. -He was the Lady Rohesia's husband; - he spoke the last.

The doctor shook his head: he looked at the disconsolate widower in posse, then at the hour-glass ;its waning sand seemed sadly to shadow forth the sinking pulse of his patient. Dr. Butts was a very learned man. "Ars longa, vita brevis !" said Doctor Butts.

"I am very sorry to hear it," quoth Sir Guy de Montgomeri.

Sir Guy was a brave knight, and a tall; but he was no scholar.

"Alas! my poor sister!" sighed Ingoldsby.

"Alas! my poor mistress!" sobbed Beatrice.

Sir Guy neither sighed nor sobbed ;-his grief was too deep-seated for outward manifestation.

"And how long, doctor-?" The afflicted husband could not finish the sentence.

Doctor Butts withdrew his hand from the wrist of the dying lady; he pointed to the horologe; scarcely a quarter of its sand remained in the upper moiety. Again he shook his head; the eye of the patient waxed dimmer, the rattling in the throat increased.

"What's become of Father Francis ?" whimpered Beatrice.

"The last consolations of the church-" suggested Everard.

A darker shade came over the brow of Sir Guy. "Where is the confessor?" continued his grieving brother-in-law.

"In the pantry,” cried Marion Hacket pertly, as she tripped down stairs in search of that venerable ecclesiastic; in the pantry, I warrant me.”—The bower-woman was not wont to be in the wrong; - in the pantry was the holy man discovered,

votions.

-

at his de

"Pax vobiscum!" said Father Francis, as he entered the chamber of death.

"Vita brevis!" retorted Doctor Butts: - he was

not a man to be browbeat out of his Latin, — and by a paltry friar Minim, too. Had it been a Bishop, in

deed, or even a mitred Abbot;-but a miserable

Franciscan!

"Benedicite!" said the friar.

"Ars longa!" returned the leech.

Doctor Butts adjusted the tassels of his falling band; drew his short sad-coloured cloak closer around him; and, grasping his cross-handled walking-staff, stalked majestically out of the apartment. Father Francis had the field to himself.

The worthy chaplain hastened to administer the last rites of the church. To all appearance he had little time to lose: as he concluded, the dismal toll of the passing-bell sounded from the belfry tower; little Hubert, the bandy-legged sacristan, was pulling with all his might.—It was a capital contrivance that same passing-bell:- which of the Urbans or Innocents invented it is a query; but whoever he was, he deserved well of his country and of Christendom.

Ah! our ancestors were not such fools, after all, as we, their degenerate children, conceit them to have been. The passing-bell! a most solemn warning to imps of every description, is not to be regarded with impunity: the most impudent Succubus of them all dare as well dip his claws in holy water, as come within the verge of its sound. Old Nick himself, if he sets any value at all upon his tail, had best convey himself clean out of hearing, and leave the way open to Paradise. Little Hubert continued pulling with all his might, and St. Peter began to look out for a cus

tomer.

The knell seemed to have some effect even upon the Lady Rohesia: she raised her head slightly; inarticulate sounds issued from her lips, inarticulate,

that is, to the profane ears of the laity. Those of Father Francis, indeed, were sharper; nothing, as he averred, could be more distinct than the words, "A thousand marks to the priory of St. Mary Rouncival.”

Now the Lady Rohesia Ingoldsby had brought her husband broad lands and large possessions; much of her ample dowry, too, was at her own disposal; and nuncupative wills had not yet been abolished by Act of Parliament.

"Pious soul!" ejaculated Father Francis. thousand marks, she said-"

"A

"If she did, I'll be shot!" said Sir Guy de Montgomeri.

"A thousand marks!" continued the confessor, fixing his cold grey eye upon the knight, as he went on, heedless of the interruption ;-"a thousand marks! and as many Aves and Paters shall be duly said soon as the money is paid down."

as

Sir Guy shrank from the monk's gaze; he turned to the window, and muttered to himself something that sounded like "Don't you wish you may get it?"

*

The bell continued to toll. Father Francis had quitted the room, taking with him the remains of the holy oil he had been using for Extreme Unction. Everard Ingoldsby waited on him down stairs.

"A thousand thanks!" said the latter.

"A thousand marks!" said the friar.

"A thousand devils!" growled Sir Guy de Montgomeri from the top of the landing-place.