"Hearken, sir," they make answer, "in this wood dwelleth a right holy man, and to him those folk who would turn from their sin, go to make confession; come, let us confess to him and give up our evil life; man should not always live sinfully but rather should turn again to God." "A hundred devils!" saith he. "Confess? shall I become a jest and a by-word? Cursed be he that turneth his footsteps thither with such intent, but if there be any spoils to be got I will go hang this hermit." "Nay, sir," quoth they, "prithee come with us. Do this kindness for our sake." "For your sake," he then made answer, "I will follow you, but for God will I do nought; 't is but for fellowship I go with ye. Bring up my horse, and I will forth with these hypocrites. But liefer had I two good mallards, nay, two tiny sparrows than all their confessions; yet will I go thither to make a jape of them. Whenso that they are shriven they will go rob here or there; it is even as the confession made between Reynard and the hen-hawk,--such repentance falleth at a breath." "Sir," quoth they, "now mount your horse, that God who knows no lie may do his will with you and give you true humility." "By my faith," saith he, "may it never so fall that I become mild and debonair and be feared of no man." And straightway thereafter they set forth. He who is possessed of the devil rideth behind singing, and his fellows go before weeping. And as his men fare on before him, ever he gives them ill words, pricks and prods and misprises them; but they, on their part, to humour him, say whatsoever he will. And they ride on by the straight paved way so long they come into the forest to the hermitage. There they enter, and within the chapel they find the holy man; but their lord has stayed without, for he was fell and stark and full of malice, and fiercer than mad dog or werewolf; ofttimes he looketh down at his feet and proudly he straighteneth himself. "Lord," they say, "now light ye down and come within, amend your ways, or at the least, pray God's mercy." "Nay, I will not stir hence," quoth he; "and why should I pray his mercy when nought would I do for his sake? But now speed ye your affair for therein have I no part or portion; and much I fear lest I lose all my day through this dallying. For even now the merchants and pilgrims, whom it behooveth me to bring to ground, fare along the highroad, and now they will go their way unhindered; and as God may aid me, this weighs heavy upon me. By Saint Remi, I had liefer that ye were never shriven than that they go hence unshamed."