They began to laugh in spite of the discomfort their shirts caused them. Then they went back to dinner, and were after that I know not how many days at Antwerp, and left without their shirts, for Montbleru had hidden them in a safe place, and afterwards sold them for five gold crowns.
Now God so willed that in the first week of Lent, Montbleru was at dinner with the three worthy gentlemen before named, and in the course of his talk he reminded them of the shirts they had lost at Antwerp, and said,
“Alas, the poor thief who robbed you will be damned for that, unless God and you pardon him. Do you bear him any ill-will?”
“By God!” said Master Ymbert, “my dear sir, I have thought no more about it,—I had forgotten it long since.”
“At least,” said Montbleru, “you pardon him, do you not?”
“By St. John!” he replied, “I would not have him damned for my sake.”
“By my oath, that is well said,” answered Montbleru. “And you Master Roland,—do you also pardon him?”
After a good deal of trouble, he agreed to pardon the thief, but as the theft rankled in his mind, he found the word hard to pronounce.
“And will you also pardon him, Master Roland?” said Montbleru. “What will you gain by having a poor thief damned for a wretched shirt and handkerchief?”
“Truly I pardon him,” said he. “He is quit as far as I am concerned, since there is nothing else to be done.”