This was the monk's last day, and a loud ringing of bells announced his immediate departure from Berne. Samson was in the church standing on the steps of the high altar. Canon Henry Lupulus, formerly Zuinglius's master, was acting as his interpreter. "When the wolf and the fox rendezvous together in the field," said canon Anselm, turning to the Schulthess of Walleville, "the best thing for you, worthy Sir, is to put your sheep and geese in safety." But the monk cared little for these sarcasms, which, besides, did not reach his ear. "Kneel," said he to the superstitious crowd, "repeat three _Paters_, three _Ave Marias_, and your souls will forthwith be as pure as at the moment of baptism." Then all the people fell upon their knees. Samson wishing even to outdo himself, exclaimed, "I deliver from the torments of purgatory and hell all the spirits of the departed Bernese, whatever may have been the manner and place of their death." These jugglers, like those at fairs, kept their finest feat for the last. Samson set out with a heavy purse towards Zurich, crossing Argovia and Baden. The farther on he got, the monk, whose appearance on passing the Alps was so shabby, proceeded with more pride and splendour. The Bishop of Constance, irritated that Samson had not employed him to legalise his bulls, had forbidden all the curates of his diocese to open their churches to him. At Baden, nevertheless, the curate durst not long oppose his traffic. This redoubled the monk's effrontery. Making the round of the burying ground at the head of a procession, he seemed to fix his eyes on some object in the air, while his acolytes sung the hymn for the dead, and pretending to see souls flying from the burying ground to heaven, he exclaimed--"_Ecce volant!_ See how they fly." One day, an inhabitant of the place getting up into the church steeple, a great number of feathers were soon seen in the air falling down on the astonished procession; "See how they fly," exclaimed the wag of Baden, shaking a feather cushion from the steeple. Many began to laugh.[723] Samson fell into a rage, and could not be appeased till he learned that the individual was subject to fits of derangement: he left Baden in a huff. [723] Dessen viel Luth gnug lachten. (Bullinger MS.) [Sidenote: THE DEAN OF BREMGARTEN. HENRY BULLINGER.]