"I come to pray you to say three masses for the soul of a person who died suddenly.

I have also brought the money.

Only tell me how much it will be, and I will pay." "You shall give what you will, my son," the monk said, "and I will say the masses myself." Ercole got out his sheepskin purse, untied the strings, and looked into it, weighing it in his hand.

Then he seemed to hesitate.

The monk looked on quietly.
"It is of your own free will," he said.