Boniface lost his temper, struck the sub-prior,
saying, "Indeed, doth it become you English traitors so to answer me?"
He tore in pieces the rich cope of the sub-prior; the canons rushed to
their brother's rescue and knocked the Archbishop down; but his men
fell upon the canons and beat them and trod them under foot. The old
gateway was shocked and grieved to see the reverend canons running
beneath the arch bloody and miry, rent and torn, carrying their
complaint to the Bishop and then to the King at Westminster. After
which there was much contention, and the whole city rose and would
have torn the Archbishop into small pieces, shouting, "Where is this
ruffian? that cruel smiter!" and much else that must have frightened
and astonished Master Boniface and made him wish that he had never set
foot in England, but stayed quietly in peaceful Provence.
But this gateway loved to look upon the great fair that took place on
the Feast of St. Bartholomew. This was granted to Rahere the Prior and
to the canons and continued for seven centuries, until the abuses of
modern days destroyed its character and ended its career. The scene of
the actual fair was within the priory gates in the churchyard, and
there during the three days of its continuance stood the booths and
standings of the clothiers and drapers of London and of all England,
of pewterers, and leather-sellers, and without in the open space
before the priory were tents and booths and a noisy crowd of traders,
pleasure-seekers, friars, jesters, tumblers, and stilt-walkers.
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