"Holy Saint Andrew! that is what never befell me.

No one, from my childhood upwards, ever so much as dreamed of making me a monk.

And yet I wonder when I think of it; for you will allow that, bating the reading and writing, which I could never learn, and the psalmody, which I could never endure, and the dress, which is that of a mad beggar--Our Lady forgive me! [here he crossed himself] and their fasts, which do not suit my appetite, I would have made every whit as good a monk as my little gossip at St.Martin's yonder.

But I know not why, none ever proposed the station to me .-- Oh, so, fair nephew, you were to be a monk, then--and wherefore, I pray you ?" "That my father's house might be ended, either in the cloister or in the tomb," answered Quentin, with deep feeling.
"I see," answered his uncle--"I comprehend.

Cunning rogues--very cunning! They might have been cheated, though; for, look ye, fair nephew, I myself remember the canon Robersart who had taken the vows and afterwards broke out of cloister, and became a captain of Free Companions.