Many an one of the brothers, fought a fierce battle within the depths of his heart on that day. Even Gozbert the old dean,--after having stilled the craving of hunger with millet-porridge, and having pushed aside with a tremendous frown, the roasted stag and bear's ham, as if it were a temptation of the Evil One,--when afterwards a beautifully roasted grouse, was put down before him, felt the odour thereof rise temptingly into his nostrils. And with the savory smell the memories of his youth came back; when he himself was a first-rate sportsman, fully two score years ago, and when he went out in the early morning to shoot the wood-cock, and meet the game-keeper's bright-eyed daughter; and twice he resisted the half involuntary movement of his arm, the third time he felt his strength going, and a moment after, one half of the bird lay before him, and was hastily dispatched. Spazzo the chamberlain, had watched with an approving nod, the appearance of the many dishes. A large Rhine-salmon had quickly disappeared under his hands, and he now cast his eyes about, in search of something to drink. Then Sindolt, his neighbour, seized a small stone jug, poured out its contents into a metal cup and said: "Your health in the choicest wine of the monastery." Master Spazzo intended to take a copious draught, but scarcely had the liquid touched his palate, when he put down the goblet hastily, shaking all over as with the ague, and exclaimed, "then may the Devil be friar!" The evil Sindolt had given him a sour cider, made of crab-apples, and sweetened with the juice of the blackberry. On Master Spazzo's looking inclined to thank him by a blow, he quickly fetched a jug of the delicious red "Valtelliner," wherewith to soften his ire. The "Valtelliner" is a capital wine; in which formerly the Roman Emperor Augustus, drowned his grief over the lost battle of Varus. By degrees Master Spazzo's good humour returned; so that without knowing him, he willingly drank to the health of the Bishop of Chur; to whom the monastery was indebted for this wine, and Sindolt did not fail to keep him company. "What may your patron say to such drinking?" asked the chamberlain. "St. Benedict was a wise man," replied Sindolt, "therefore he ordained, that although it had been written, that wine was altogether no drink for monks, yet as not a single person, at the present day, could be persuaded of the justness of this observation; and in consequence of the weakness of the human mind, everyone should be allowed a bottle a day. No one however is to drink to satiety, for wine will make even the wisest swerve from the path of wisdom." "Good," said Spazzo and drained his tumbler. "On the other hand," continued Sindolt, "those of the brotherhood, in whose district little or no wine grows, must resign themselves, and praise the Lord without grumbling." "Good also," said Spazzo again emptying his goblet.