But nothing could be more amusing than their practice of doing everything to rule, as if they were following mathematical calculations which it would be a sin to ignore. They work out the number of knots for a shoe-string the colour of a girdle, the variations in colour of a habit, the material and width to a hair's breadth of a girdle, the shape and capacity (in sacksful) of a cowl, the breadth (in fingers) of a tonsure, the number of hours prescribed for sleep. But this equality applied to such a diversity of persons and temperaments will only result in inequality, as anyone can see. Even so, these trivialities not only make them feel superior to other men but also contemptuous of each other, and these professors of apostolic charity will create extraordinary scenes and disturbances on account of a habit with a different girdle or one which is rather too dark in colour. Some you'll see are so strict in their observances that they will wear an outer garment which has to be made of Cilician goat's hair and one of Milesian wool next to the skin, while others have linen on top and wool underneath. There are others again who shrink from the touch of money as if it were deadly poison, but are less restrained when it comes to wine or contact with women.

In short, they all take remarkable pains to be different in their rule of life. They aren't interested in being like Christ but in being unlike each other. Consequently, a great deal of their happiness depends on their name. Some, for instance, delight in calling themselves Cordeliers, and they are subdivided into the Coletines, the Minors, the Minims and the Bullists. Then there are the Benedictines and the Bernardines; the Bridgetines, Augustinians, Williamists and Jacobines; as if it weren't enough to be called Christians.¹⁰⁸ Most of them rely so much on their ceremonies and petty, man-made traditions that they suppose heaven alone will hardly be enough to reward merit such as theirs. They never think the time to come when Christ will scorn all this and enforce his own rule, that of charity.

One monk will display his wretched belly, swollen with every kind of fish. Another will pour out a hundred sacksful of psalms, while another adds up his myriads of fasts and accounts for his stomach near to bursting by the single midday meal which is all he usually has; Yet another will produce such a pile of church ceremonies that seven ships could scarcely carry them. One boasts that for sixty years he has never touched money without protecting his fingers with two pairs of gloves, while another wears a cowl so thick with dirt that not even a sailor would want it near his person. Then one will relate how for fifty years he has led the life of a sponge, always stuck in the same place; others will show off a voice made hoarse by incessant chanting, or the inertia brought on by living alone, or a tongue stiff with disuse under the rule of silence. But Christ would interrupt the unending flow of these selfglorifications to ask:

"Where has this new race of Jews sprung from? I recognize only one commandment as truly mine, but it is the only one not mentioned. Long ago in the sight of all, without wrapping up my words in parables. I promised my father's kingdom, not for wearing a cowl or chanting petty prayers or practising abstinence, but for performing the duties of charity. I don't acknowledge men who acknowledge their own deeds so noisily. Those who also want to appear holier than I am can go off and live in the heavens of the Abraxasians, if they like, or give orders for a new heaven to be built for them by the men whose foolish teaching they have set above my own commands." ¹⁰⁹

When they hear these words and see common sailors and waggoners preferred to themselves what sort of looks do you think they'll give each other? But for the moment they're happy in their expectations, not without help from me. And although they are segregated from civil life, no one can afford to belittle them, especially the Mendicants. who know all about everyone's secrets from the confessional, as they call it. They know it's forbidden to publish these abroad, unless they happen to be drinking and want to be amused with entertaining stories, but then names are mentioned and the facts left open to conjecture. But if anyone stirs up this hornets' nest they'll take swift revenge in their public sermons, pointing out their enemy by insinuations and allusions so artfully veiled that no one who knows anything can fail to know who is meant. And you'll have to throw your sop to Cerberus before they'll make an end of barking.¹¹⁰

Is there a comedian or cheapjack you'd rather watch than them when they hold forth in their sermons? It's quite absurd but highly enjoyable to see them observe the traditional rules of rhetoric. Heavens, how they gesticulate and make proper changes of voice, how they drone on and fling themselves about, rapidly putting on different expressions and confounding everything with their outcry. This is a style of oratory which is handed down in person from brother to brother like a secret ritual. I'm not one of the initiated, but I'll make a guess at what it's like.

They start with an invocation, something they've borrowed from the poets. Then if they're going to preach about charity their exordium is all about the Nile, a river in Egypt, or if they intend to recount the mystery of the cross they'll begin with Bel, the Babylonian dragon. If fasting is to be their subject they make a start with the twelve signs of the Zodiac, and if they would expound the faith they open with a discussion on squaring the circle.¹¹¹ I myself have heard one notable fool - I'm sorry, I meant to say scholar - who set out to reveal the mystery of the Trinity to a large congregation. In order to display the exceptional quality of his learning and to satisfy the ears of the theologians he made a novel beginning, starting with the alphabet, syllable and sentence, and going on to the agreement of noun with verb, adjective with noun and substantive. There was general astonishment amongst his listeners, some of whom whispered to each other the quotation from Horace, "What's the point of all this stink?" Finally he reached the conclusion that a symbol of the Trinity was clearly expressed in the rudiments of grammar, and no mathematician could trace a figure 50 plain in the sand. And that 'great theologian' had sweated eight whole months over this discourse, so today he is blinder than a mole, all his keenness of sight doubtless gone to reinforce the sharp edge of his intellect. But the man has no regrets for his lost sight, he even thinks it was a small price to pay for his hour of glory.

I've heard another one, an octogenarian and still an active theologian, whom you'd take for a reincarnation of Scotus himself, set out to explain the mystery of the name of Jesus. He proved with remarkable subtlety how anything that could be said about this lay hidden in the actual letters of his name. For the fact that it is declinable in three different cases is clearly symbolic of the threefold nature of the divine. Thus, the first case (Jesus) ends in s, the second (Jesum) in m, the third (Jesu) in u, and herein lies an 'inexpressible' mystery; for the three letters indicate that he is the sum, the middle and the ultimate. They also concealed a still more recondite mystery, this time according to mathematica!, analysis. He divided Jesus into two equal halves, leaving the letter s in the middle. Then he showed that this was in Hebrew, pronounced syn; and syn sounds like the word I believe the Scots use for the Latin peccatum, that is, sin. Here there is clear proof that it is Jesus who takes away the sins of the world. This novel introduction left his audience open-mouthed in admiration, especially the theologians present, who very nearly suffered the same fate as Niobe. As for me, I nearly split my sides like the figwood Priapus who had the misfortune to witness the nocturnal rites of Canidia and Sagana, and with good reason, for when did Demosthenes in Greek or Cicero in Latin think up an 'exordium' like that? These orators held the view that an introduction which was irrelevant to the main theme was a bad one - even a swineherd with no one but nature for a teacher wouldn't open a speech in such a way. But our masters of learning think that their preamble, as they call it, will show special rhetorical excellence if it's wholly unconnected with the rest of the subject, so that the listener will marvel and say to himself "Now where's that taking him?" ¹¹²

In the third place, by way of an exposition, they offer no more than a hasty interpretation of a passage from the gospel as an aside, so to speak, though this should really be their main object. And fourthly, with a quick change of character they propound some theological question the like of which 'has never been known on earth or in heaven', and they imagine this is a further indication of their expertise. ,At this point there really is a display of theological arrogance as they bombard the ears of their listeners with such high-sounding titles as Worthy Doctors, Subtle or Most Subtle Doctors, Seraphic Doctors, Holy Doctors and Incontrovertible Doctors. Then they let fly at the ignorant crowd their syllogisms, major and minor, conclusions, corollaries, idiotic hypotheses and further scholastic rubbish. There remains a fifth act, in which an artist can really surpass himself. This is where they trot out some foolish popular anecdote, from the Mirror of History, I expect, or the Deeds of the Romans, and proceed to interpret it allegorically, tropologically, and anagogically. In this way they complete their Chimaera, a monstrosity which even Horace 'never dreamt of when he wrote "Add to the human head etc."¹¹³

But they've heard from someone that the opening of a speech should be restrained and quietly spoken. As a result they start their introduction so softly they can scarcely hear their own voices - as if it really did any good to say what is intelligible to none. They've also heard that emotions should be stirred by frequent use of exclamations, so they speak in a low drone for a while and then suddenly lift their voices in a wild shout, though it's quite unnecessary. You'd swear the man needed a dose of hellebore, as if it didn't matter where you raise your voice. Moreover, as they've heard that a sermon should warm up as it goes along, they deliver the various sections of the beginning anyhow, and then suddenly let out their voices full blast, though the point may be of no importance, and finally end so abruptly that you might think them out of breath.

Last of all, they've learned that the writers on rhetorlc mention laughter, and so they're at pains to scatter around a few jokes. '0 sweet Aphrodite', what polish and pertinence, a real case of 'the ass with the lyre'. They sometimes try satire too, but it's so feeble that it's laughable, and they never sound so servile as when they're anxious to give an impression of plain speaking. In fact their entire performance might have been learned from the cheapjacks in the squares, who are a long way their superiors, though two types are so alike that they must have learned their rhetoric from each other. Even so, thanks to me, they find people who'll listen to them and believe they hear a genuine Demosthenes or Cicero, especially among merchants and silIy women, whose ears they are particularly anxious to please.

For the merchants have a habit of doling out small shares of their ill-gotten gains if they're suitably flattered, and the church finds favour with women for many reasons, the main one being that a priest can provide a bosom where a woman can pour out her troubles whenever she quarrels with her husband. Now I think you must see how deeply this section of mankind is in my debt, when their petty ceremonies and silly absurdities and the noise they make in the world enables to tyrannize over their fellow men, each one a Paul an Antony in his own eyes.¹¹⁴