A continuation of the translation of Aristotle, was not to be thought of. Who can tell, whether the uproarious outbreak of the pupils, was not in close connexion with their study of logic? Seriousness is often a very dry and leafless trunk; else folly would scarcely find room, to wind her wanton green-leaved tendrils around it ... When the Duchess accompanied by the Abbot had left the school-room, the latter said: "There is nothing now left to show you but the library of the monastery, the well for thirsty souls, the armory with its weapons of science." But Dame Hadwig was tired and so declined his offer. "I must keep my word," said she, "and make the donation to your boys documental. Will you be pleased to have the parchment got ready, that I may affix my signature and seal." Sir Cralo conducted his guest to his apartments. On going along the cross-passage, they passed a small room, the door of which was open. Close to the bare wall stood a pillar, from the middle of which hung a chain. Over the portal, in faded colours, was painted a figure which held a rod in its lean hand. "Him whom the Lord loveth, he chastiseth," was written under it in capital letters. Dame Hadwig cast an enquiring look at the Abbot. "The scourging room!" replied he. "Is none of the brothers just now liable to punishment?" asked she, "it might be a warning example." Then the evil Sindolt's feet twitched as if he had trodden on a thorn. He turned round as if he had been attracted by a voice calling to him, and exclaiming, "I am coming," he quickly vanished into the darker parts of the passage. He well knew why he did so. Notker the stutterer, after the labour of years, had at last completed a psalm-book, adorned with dainty drawings. This book the envious Sindolt had destroyed at night; casting it to pieces, and upsetting a jug of wine over it. On account of this, he had been sentenced to be flogged three times, and the last instalment was still due. He knew the room, and the instruments of penance hanging on the walls well enough, from the nine-tailed "Scorpion" down to the simple "wasp." The Abbot hurried on. His state-rooms were richly decorated with flowers. Dame Hadwig threw herself into the primitive arm-chair, to rest from the fatigue of all the sight-seeing. She had received many new impressions within the space of a few hours. There was still half an hour left before supper. Had anyone taken the trouble to visit all the cloister-cells, he might have satisfied himself, that not a single inhabitant thereof had remained unaffected by the arrival of the high-born guests. Even those who pass their whole lives in seclusion, feel that they owe homage to woman.