Chapter 12 Chapter VII

evening prayer William and Adso are being graciously received by the Dean, George's angry talk The torches placed on the wall illuminate the restaurant brightly.The monks had already stood by rows of dining tables.The dean's desk is listed at the front, perpendicular to the other desks, and placed on a wide platform.There was a pulpit directly opposite, and the monks who were going to read the scriptures at dinner were also in place.The abbot was waiting for us by a small fountain, and after washing our hands according to the ancient ritual of St. Pachomius, he took a white cloth for us to dry.

The abbot invited William to sit at his table, and said that as I was also a newcomer, I had the same privilege tonight, though I was only a novice in the Order of St. Benedict.He kindly told me that for the next few days I could sit with the other monks, or, if my master had assigned me some assignment that required me to eat earlier or later, I could go to the kitchen by myself. , the cooks will take care of me. The monks standing at the table stood upright, their headscarves covering their faces, and their hands under their scapulars.The Dean approached his table and announced the beginning of the "Thanksgiving Before Meals," and the cantor standing on the pulpit sang a hymn.After the dean gave the speech of gratitude, everyone sat down.

Our canon states that meals should be eaten sparingly, but the abbot is allowed to decide how much food the monks need.But in this monastery, food is obviously more important.Of course, I am not talking about people who are used to gourmet food; but as far as monks who live a simple life are concerned, these foods have provided enough nutrition; At this table, and the dean is always proud to show the guests their harvest and the skill of the cook. According to the custom, the monks are not allowed to talk during the meal, and only communicate with each other with ordinary gestures.The novices and young monks took the dishes passed from the abbot's table, and passed them on to other tables.

We sat at the Abbot's table with Malachi, the Superintendent, and the two oldest monks: George of Burgos, the blind old man I met in the office; Alienardo of Ferrer, I think he may not be less than a hundred years old, he looks thin and weak, and he seems a little old-eyed.The dean told us that Alinardo had lived in this monastery since he was a monk, and remembered all the big and small things that happened in the monastery in the past eighty years. At first the abbot told us these things in a low voice, but then he followed the rules and ate quietly.But as I said, it was a bit of a privilege to be at the dean's table, and when the dean boasted about the quality of his olive oil and his wine, we raved about the food on the table.In fact, at one point, as he was pouring the wine, he reminded us of St. Benedict's rules on wine, which were, to be precise, unfit for monks to drink.But since the monks of our time cannot be abstain from alcohol, they should at least be restrained, because even the most sensible people drink too much and they will be sexually promiscuous. Didn't the book of Ecclesiastes warn us ?The "our time" that St. Benedict said was his time, and it is very far away from now. You can imagine the time when we dined in the monastery (I don't say that I am writing at the moment, but only in May Luck here, much more tolerant of beer).In short, we didn't drink too much, but we didn't drink too much.

We had fresh roast pork.I realized that instead of animal fat they used olive oil for their other meals; the monastery had an olive grove at the foot of the hill facing the sea and produced excellent quality olives.The dean invited us to try the chicken I saw them preparing in the kitchen earlier (only this table had).I saw him also own an iron fork, very rare, reminded me of William's spectacles.Our host, who is high and dignified, does not want food to stain his hands, and let us use his tools to pick meat from the plate.I declined, but William happily accepted, using the big man's fork nonchalantly, presumably to let the abbot know that not all Franciscan friars were humble, uneducated bumpkins.

As the food was delicious and exquisite (the best meal we had in many days of travelling), I didn't listen to the scriptures that accompanied the dinner.An approving grunt from George reminded me of the passage I had now read.Since I had heard George's impassioned speech this afternoon, I could see why he was so content now. The chanter reads: "Let us follow the example of the Prophet who said: I have resolved to watch over my ways, lest my tongue sin, I put a leash on my mouth, I am silent, I humble myself, I stop I myself do not even speak the truth. If this passage of the prophet teaches us not to speak even what is right, we should silence as much as we say, in order to avoid this sinful punishment!" Then he added, "We condemn vulgar words, gibberish and sneers, and the disciples were not allowed to speak such things."

"That's the margin pattern we're talking about today," George couldn't resist commenting. "John Chrysostom said that Christ never laughed." "His humanity does not forbid laughter," William interjected. "As the theologians say, a man ought to laugh." "The Son of Man may laugh, but it is not recorded in the Bible that he laughed," George said sharply, quoting Petrus Cantor. William murmured, "Eat. Because the food is good." "What?" asked George, thinking William was referring to the dish in front of him.

"According to the writings of Ambrose, St. Lawrence said so when he faced the executioner." William said reverently, "St. Lawrence was a man who knew how to laugh and humor, although it was to humiliate his enemies. .” George replied with a sneer: "This proves that laughter is very close to death, and it can also corrupt the monastery at the same time." I admit that his words are not without logic. ※Bandhammer School & E-Book of Fine School※ At this moment, the dean kindly asked us to calm down.Finally finished the meal.The dean stood up and introduced William to the monks.He praised William's wisdom, gave details of William's background and reputation, and told everyone that the visitor had been invited to investigate Adelmo's death; Everyone should be.

After dinner, the monks prepare to return to the chapel for vespers.Once again they lowered their headscarves to cover their faces and formed a single file at the door, and then they went out in order, passed the cemetery, and entered the chapel through the north side door. We walked out with the dean. William asked: "Is the cathedral going to be locked at this moment?" "After the servants have cleared the dining room and kitchen, the librarian himself locks all the doors and bolts them from the inside." "From the inside? Then how did he get out by himself?"

The dean stared at William for a long time: "Obviously he doesn't sleep in the kitchen." He said, quickening his pace. "Very well," William whispered to me, "there is another way, we just don't know about it." His reasoning made me smile proudly.He immediately scolded me, "Don't laugh. Don't you see, 'laughing' doesn't have a very good reputation in this monastery." We go into the chapel.On the bronze altar two people high, there is a single lighted lamp.The monks took their positions quietly. The dean gestured, and the leader said: "Tuautem Domine miserere nobis."

The dean replied: "Adiutorium nostrum in nominee Domini." All should agree.Then everyone sang a hymn: "When I call you, answer me, O God." "I thank you from the bottom of my heart. Christ the Lord." "God, bless all your servants." We were not seated in the choir Instead, retreat to the center of the hall.From there we suddenly saw Malachi coming out of the shadowy side. "Keep an eye on that spot," William said to me. "There may be a secret passage leading to the cathedral." "Is it under the cemetery?" ※Ballet Hammer School & E-Book of Fine School※ "What is impossible? In fact, I think there must be some kind of ossuary here, that small cemetery, it is impossible to bury monks who have died for centuries." I asked in horror: "But are you really going to the library at night?" "To that place where there are dead monks, serpents, and mysterious lights? My good Adelso? I won't, boy. I had the idea, but not out of curiosity, but to unravel Adelmo's death. Now, as I said, I prefer to accept the more logical explanation, and, on reflection, I think it is better to respect the customs of the place." "Then why do you want to know?" "Because learning consists not only in knowing what we must or can do, but also in knowing what we may and may not do."