There were also I know not how many old women who said not a word, and Master John asked them if they had paid their tithe, and they replied that they had made an arrangement with the Cordeliers.
“What!” said he, “you do not pay? You ought to advise and persuade the others to do their duty, and you yourselves are in default!”
“Marry!” said one of them, “I am not to blame. I have been several times to perform my duty, but my confessor would not listen to me: he always says he is too busy.”
“St. John!” said the other old women, “we have compounded with the monks to pay them the tithe we owe them in linen, cloth, cushions, quilts, pillow-cases and such other trifles; and that by their own instructions and desire, for we should prefer to pay like the others.”
“By Our Lady!” said Master John, “there is no harm done; it is quite right.
“I suppose they can go away now; can they not?” said the Seigneur to Master John.
“Yes!” said he, “but let them be sure and not forget to pay the tithe.”
When they had all left the hall, the door was closed, and every man present looked hard at his neighbour.
“Well!” said the Seigneur. “What is to be done? We know for certain what these ribald monks have done to us, by the confession of one of them, and by our wives; we need no further witness.”
After many and various opinions, it was resolved to set the convent on fire, and burn both monks and monastery.