DLXIX.
Obediens verus non attendit quid
precipitur.
Cassianus tellis how on̛ a tyme þer was ane abbott þat commawndid̛ his dissiple & said̛ vnto hym̛; "Go, ryn̛," he said̛, "als faste as þou may, and als tyte as þou may turn̛ me yone grete stone." And onone his dissiple a grete stone, þat many men̛ myght not hafe turnyd̛, now with lifte at his head̛ & now at his breste, with grete strentℏ he turnyd̛ it ouer; & he swett so þat aƚƚ his clothis warr̛ wett thrugℏ, for he supposid̛ þat nothyng was commandid̛ vnto hym̛ þat was impossible to doo.