'Nothing, nothing, nothing!'
Then the prior strode up to him in wrath and smote him on the cheek.
'It is a devil within you--a devil of obstinacy and pride. You shall
believe!'
He cried to monks to lay hold of him; they dragged him roughly to the
cloisters, and stripping him of his cowl tied it round his waist, and
bound him by the hands to a pillar.... And the prior ordered them to
give Jasper eight-and-thirty strokes with the scourge--one less than
Christ--that the devil might be driven out. The scourge was heavy and
knotted, and the porter bared his arms that he might strike the better;
the monks stood round in eager expectation. The scourge whizzed through
the air and came down with a thud on Jasper's bare shoulders; a tremor
passed through him, but he did not speak. Again it came down, and as the
porter raised it for the third time the monks saw great bleeding weals
on Brother Jasper's back. Then, as the scourge fell heavily, a terrible
groan burst from him. The porter swung his arm, and this time a shriek
broke from the wretched monk; the blows came pitilessly and Jasper lost
all courage. He shrieked with agony, imploring them to stop.