(from an old French medieval tale)
Between Normandy and Brittany, next to the sea, in times of old there used to be a castle so strong and so well defended that it feared no king, prince or duke of any sort.
The lord that possessed it was of great stature, beautiful bearing, rich and high lineage. Seeing him, one might think he had a good and gracious nature. However, he was vain, proud and cruel, disloyal and fearing neither God nor men. He had spread terror throughout the country, robbing travelers along the roads, promoting unjust wars, destroying markets, killing pilgrims. He observed no fasting or abstinence, attended no Mass and listened to no sermons. No worse man has ever existed. In his life he committed all the evil that can be done by thought, word and deed.
And so he lived for thirty years, without any repentance at all.
On a Good Friday, having awakened in a good mood, and shouted at his cooks: — “Prepare the game I hunted yesterday, for today I want to have lunch early.”
Upon hearing this, his vassals exclaimed: — “My Lord, today is Good Friday, everyone is fasting, and thou wishest to eat meat! Believe what we say: God will finally punish thee!”
—“By the time that happens I shall have assulted and hung many people!”
—“Art thou so certain that God will continue to tolerate this much longer? Thou shouldst hastily repent, beg for pardon, and weep for thy sins. A man of great sanctity, a priest-hermit, abides in a grove nearby. Let us go to confession.”
—“I? I go to confession?” Uttering an oath, he proclaimed, “I wouldst go there only if he should have something that I could steal.”
—His vassals, remaining patient, responded, “Come at least to keep us company, we bid you.”
—Smiling ironically, their lord answered: “For you, I acquiesce to go. But for God, I will do nothing.”
And so, they took to the road.
They were walking through the mountains as the morning mist was settling like white silk, speaking of goodness.
The knights move forward, crying and hitting their chests, asking God forgiveness for their sins. Cutting across the grove, where the morning penetrated, the cortege was followed by the sinner, his heart as hard as rock. He would sing and burst into laughter, mocking the tears of his fellow travelers.
The fields with golden vegetation announced that the holy man’s convent was drawing near.
* * *

Arriving at the convent from the solitary and still forest, the knights prepared to enter the abode of the virtuous monk. However, their proud lord waited outside, mounted on his horse.
The knights, entered the chapel and went to confession to the hermit as sincerely and as briefly as they could. He gave them absolution on condition that they abandon their bad life. They promised to do so and then told him:
—“Father, our master, who is outside, is not in a good state of soul. Please call to him and convince him to go to confession.”
Supported on his staff, the hermit went out to meet the knight. Addressing him with calm dignity, he said:
—“Welcome, Sir. Being a knight, thou must surely be courteous. Accept my invitation then — descend from thy horse and come in to speak with me.”
A churlish oath rising to his lips, the knight answered impatiently:
—“Speak with thee? What for? Speak about what? We have nothing in common. I am in haste and desire to take my leave.”
—Undismayed, the hermit continued: “For the sake of the order of chivalry, please come in to see my chapel and my abode.”
Deterred by the persistence of the hermit and especially by the strength of his being, the knight grumbled gruffly to himself:
—“What a misery I fell into when first I decided to come hither this morning.”
And so he relented, very ill-at-ease. Hoping that he would somehow succeed in soon ridding himself of the hermit, the knight gingerly dismounted from his horse.
The hermit then took him by the arm and led him into the chapel. Once they were before the altar, the man of God said to him:
—“Sir, consider thyself to be my prisoner. Kill me if thou wishest, but thou shalt not escape from hence before having told me all thy sins.”
The knight was beside himself. He looked at the hermit so furiously that the latter was stricken with fear. After a terrifying pause, the knight exclaimed angrily:
—“I will tell thee nothing. In fact, I know not what prevents me from slaying thee here and now!”
The holy hermit risked his life once again:
—“Brother, tell me just one sin, and God will help thee to confess the others.”

Expressing his exasperation with an oath, the knight said:
—“Willst thou never leave me alone? If this is so, I will confess. But I shall repent of nothing — absolutely nothing!”
And with great arrogance, in one fell swoop, he told all of the sins of his turbulent life.
Heart-broken at such a callous lack of repentance, the hermit began to weep. And once again, he tried: —“Sir, give me at least the consolation of allowing me to subject you to a penance.”
—“Penance? Art thou making a mockery of me? What penance wouldst thou give me?”
—“In atonement for thy sins, thou shalt fast ever Friday for three consecutive years.”
—“Three years! Hast thou taken leave of thy senses? Never!”
—“One month, then. . .”
—“No!”
—“Thou shalt go to church and recite a Pater Noster and an Ave.”
—“For me that would be very boring and, moreover, a waste of time.”
—“For the sake of Almighty God, do at least one thing. Take this little barrel to the brook nearby, fill it with water, and bring it back to me!”
—“Well since this is not so difficult, and since I will become rid of thee thereby, I consent. Upon my word I shall not rest until I have returned this barrel to thee full of water. . .”
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