Vermont phÅ“nix. [volume] (Brattleboro, Vt.) 1834-1955, 1883-01-05
AN OLD. WORLD STORY.
Martin Franc and the Monk Of 80.
Anthony.
pY nENRY W. LoNaFELIow.

BY HENRY W. LoNGFELLow.
In times of old there lived in the city of
Rouen tradesman named Martin Franc, who,
by a series of misfortunes, had been reduced
from opulence to poverty; but poverty, which
generally makes men humble and laborious,
only served to make him proud and lazy and
in proportion as he grew poorer and poorer,
he grew also prouder and lazier. He contriv-
ed, however, to live along from day to day by
now and then pawning slken robe Of his
wife, or selling silver spoon, or some other
triAe saved from the wreck Of his better
fortunes, and passed his time pleasantly
enough in lettering about the market place
and walking up and down on the sunny side
of the street
The fair Marguerite-his wife-was cele-
brated through the whole city for her beauty,
her wit, and her virtue. She was brunette,
with the blackest eye, the whitest teeth, and
the ripest nut-brown cheek in all Normandy ;
her figure was tall and stately, her hands and
feet most delicately moulded, and her swim
ming gate like the motion Of swan. In hap
pier days she had been the delight of the
richest tradesmen in the city and the envy Of
the fairest danes.
The friends of Martin Franc, like the
friends of many ruined man before and
q
OF all that had eaten his dinners and drunk
his wine and flattered his wife, none sought
the narrow alley and humble dwelling Of the
broken tradesmen save one and that one
was Frar Gui the sacristan of tho abbey of
st. Anthony. He was little jolly, red-faced
friar, with leer in his eye, and rather a
doubtful reputation; but as he was kind OF
travelling gazette, and always brought the
latest news and gossip Of the city, and be.
sides was the only person that condescended
to visit the house Of Martin Franc-in fine,
for the want of better, he was considered in
the light of a friend.
In these constant assduites Friar Gui had
his secret motives, of which the single heart Of
Martin Franc was entirely unsuspicious. The
keener eye Of his wife, however soon discov-
cred two faces under the hood but she per
severed in mscoustruing the friar's intentions,
and in dexterously turning aside any express
sions of gallantry that fell from his lips. In
this way Friar Gui was for long time kept
at bay: and Martin Franc preserved in the
day OF poverty and distress that consolation
OF all this worlds afiiictions-a friend but
finally things came to such pass that the
honest tradesman opened his eyes, and won
dered he had been asleep so long. Whereup-
on he was irreverent enough to thrust Friar
Gui into the street by the shoulders.
Meanwhile the times grew worse and worse.
One family relic followed another-the last
silken robe was pawned, the last sil liver spoon
sold, until at length poor Martin Franc was
forced to drag the devil by the tail, in 9th
er words, beggary stared him full in the face
but the fair Marguerite did not even then de-
spair. In those days the immediate guardian
ship of the saints was much more strong and
prevalent than in these lewd and degenerate
times and, as there seemed no great proba-
bilty Of improving their condition by any
lucky change which could be brought about
by mere human agency, she determined to
try what could be done by intercession with
the patron saint Of her husband. According
ly, she repaired one evening to the abbey Of
st. Anthony to place a votive candle and Of
fer her prayer at the altar which stood in the
little chapel dedicated to St. Martin.
1t was already sunset when she reached the
church, and the evening service of the Virgin
had commenced. A cloud Of incense doated
before the altar of the Madonna, and the or.
gan rolled its deep melody along the dim arch
es Of the church. Marguerite mingled with
the kneeling crowd and repeated the respons-
es in Latin with as much devotion as the
most learned clerk OF the convent When the
service was over she repaired to the chapel of
St. Martin, and lighting her votve taper at
the silver lamp which burned before his altar,
knelt down in a retired part of the chapel,
and with tears in her eyes, besOught the saint
for aid and protection. While she was thus
engaged the church became gradually desert
ed, till she was left, as she thought, alone
but in this she was mistaken; for when she
arose to depart the portly figure of Friar Gui
was standing close at her elbow
Good evening, fair Marguerite" said he.
'St. Martin has heard your prayer and sent
me to relieve your poverty"
Then, replied she, "the good saints not
very fastidious in the choice of his messen-
gers"
NAY, good wife" answered the friar, not
at all abashed by this ungracious reply, 'if
the tidings are good what matters it who the
messenger may be And how does Martin
Franc these dRysY"
HE is WE'LL" replied Marguerite "and,
were he present, doubt not would thank
you heartily for the interest you still take in
him and his poor wife"
"He has done me wrong" continued the
friar, "but it is our duty to forgive our enc
mics, and so let the past be forgotten. l know
that he is in want Here, take this to him
and tell him l am still his friend
So saying, he drew small purse from the
sleeve of his habit and profered it to his COM
L
gestion of st. Martin but true it is that the
fair wife of Martin Franc seemed to lend
more willing ear to the earnest whispers of
the friar At length she said
"Put up your purse to-day can neither
deliver your gift nor your message. Martin
Franc has gone from home"
'Ihen keep it for yourself"
NAY" replied Marguerite, casting down
her eyes II can take no bribes here in the
church, and in the very chapel of my hus-
bands patron saint. You shall bring it to
me at my house, if you will.
The friar put up the purse and the CONVEX
sation which followed was in low and indis.
tinct undertone, audible only to the ears for
which it was intended. At length the inter
view ceased and-O woman the last
words that the virtuous Marguerite uttered,
as she glided from the church were
"To-night, when the abbey clock strikes
twelve, remember !"
1t would be useless to relate how impatient
ly the friar counted the hours and the quar-
ters as they chimed from the ancient tower
of the abbey while he paced to and fro along
the gloomy cloister. At length the appointed
hour approached; and just before the con-
vent bell sent forth its summons to call the
friars of st. Anthony to their midnight deyo-
ton, figure, with a cowl stole out of the
postern gate, and, passing silently along the
deserted streets, soon turned into the little
alley which led to the dwelling of Martin
Franc. It was none other than Friar Gui.
He raped softly at the tradesman's door,
and, casting look up and down the street,
as if to assure himself that his motions were
unobserved, slipped into the house,
''Has Martin Franc returned ?" inquired
he in a whisper.
"No," answered the sweet voice OF his wife;
"he will not be back tonight"
'Then all good angels befriend us" con-
tiuued the monk, endeavoring to take her
hand.
'Not so, good monk, said she, disengag-
ing herself "You forget the conditions of
our meeting"
The friar paused moment, and then, draw
ing heavy leathern purse from his girdle, he
threw it upon the table. At the same mo-
ment footstep was heard behind him, and
heavy blow from a club threw him PROSTATE
upon the floor. 1t came from the strong arm
of Martin Franc himself
1t is hardly necessary to state that his abb