IX

It was a little cell in which Master Richard found himself that

afternoon, after he had passed through the guardroom and heard the anger

and laughter of the men-at-arms, and sustained their blows, and when he

had looked about it, at the little narrow window high up upon the wall,

and the water that dripped here and there from the stones, and the

strong door shut upon him, the first thing that he did was to go down

upon his knees in the puddle, and thank God for solitude.

(There be two kinds of men in the world, those that love solitude, and

those that hate it; for there be two kinds of souls, the full and the

empty. Those that be full have enough to occupy them with, and those

that be empty are for ever seeking somewhat wherewith to occupy them.)

When he had done that he looked round again upon the walls and the

ceiling and the floor, and sitting down upon the wood that was to be his

pillow, first girding up his kirtle that it might not be fouled, he

sought to unite himself with all that he saw, that it might be his

friend and not his foe. So he told me when I asked him, but I do not

know if I understood him aright.

There he sat then a great while, communing with God, and the saints,

with his cell and with his soul, and after a little time his interior

quiet was again restored. Then, as he knew he would have no light that

night, and that the cell would grow dark early, for his window looked

eastwards, and was a very little one, he made haste to say the rest of

his office from the book that he had with him. But he said it slowly, as

the Carthusians use, sucking the sweetness out of every word, and saying

_Jesu_ or _Mary_ at every star [the break in each verse of the psalter

is marked with an asterisk], and after a while the sweetness

was so piercing that he could scarcely refrain from crying out.

When he had done he looked again at his window, and saw that the strip

of sky was becoming green with evening light, and he thought upon his

hazels at home.

Half an hour afterwards a fellow came with his bread and water for

supper, on a wooden plate and in a great jug, set them down and went out

without speaking.

* * * * *

Now I will tell you all that Master Richard did; it was his custom when

he was at home, and he observed it here too.

He first poured water upon his hands, saying the psalm _lavabo_, and he

dried them upon the sleeves of his habit, for he had no napkin; then he

set the second stool before him, and broke the bread upon it into five

parts, in memory of the five wounds, setting two portions here and two

there, and the fifth in the middle. Then he blessed the food, looking

upon it a great while, and seeing with the eyes of his soul his

Saviour's body stretched upon the rood. Then he began to eat, dipping

each morsel into its proper wound, so that it tasted to him sweet as

wine, and last of all he ate that which lay in the middle, thinking on

the heart that was pierced for love of him. Then he drank water, blessed

himself, and gave thanks to God, and last of all poured water once more

upon his hands.

Master Richard has often told me that there is no such sweet food to be

found anywhere--(save only the sacrament of the altar)--as that which is

so blessed and so eaten, and indeed I have found it so myself, when I

have had patience to do so with it. [Sir John makes here a few rather

trite remarks upon holy bread and ashes and upon various methods of

devotion. His words are quite irrelevant, therefore I omit them. He is

careful, however, to warn his flock that not every form of devotion is

equally suitable for every soul.]....

Now God was preparing three trials for Master Richard, and the first

came on the following morning very early.

He had not slept very well; the noise from the guard-room without was

too great, and when that was quiet there was still the foulness of the

place to keep him awake, for all the floor was strewn with rotten rags

and straw and bones, as it were a kennel. His wounds, besides, had not

been tended, and he was very sick when he awoke, and for a while scarce

knew where he was. I think, perhaps, he had taken the fever then.

He heard presently steps in the way that led to his cell, and talking,

and immediately his door was unlocked and opened. There came in a

lieutenant of the King's guard, richly dressed, and in half-armour, with

his sword at his side. He had a heavy, hairy face, and as Master

Richard sat up on his blanket he perceived that the man was little

better than an animal--gross-bodied and gross-souled. I saw the fellow

later, though I did not speak with him, and I judge as Master Richard

judged. There were four men behind him.

Master Richard stood up immediately to salute the King's officer, and

stood awaiting what should follow, but he swayed with sickness as he

stood.

The officer said a word to his men, and they haled Master Richard forth,

pulling him roughly, although he went willingly, as well he was able for

his sickness, through the passage and into the guard-room.

There was a table set there on a step at the upper end with a chair

behind it; and at the lower end was a couple of men cleaning their

harness beneath a gallery that was held up by posts; the rest were out

changing guard. The door into the court was wide at first, and the sweet

air streamed in, refreshing Master Richard like wine after the stench

that was in his nostrils, and making him think upon the country again

and running water and birds, but Master-Lieutenant, when he had taken

his seat, bade them close it, and to set Master Richard before him; all

of which they did, and so held him.

Then he began to speak.

"Now, sir," he said roughly, "my lord King is at the point of death, and

I am here to examine you. What is it that you have done to his grace?"

Now Master Richard knew that the King could not die, else where were the

passion he was to undergo? And if the officer could lie in this matter,

why should he not lie in other matters?

"Where is your authority," he said "to examine me?"

"What sir! do you question that? You shall see my authority by and bye."

"I am willing to answer you as one man to another" said Master Richard

softly, "but not to plead, until I have seen your authority."

"Oh! you are willing to answer!" said the officer, smiling like an angry

dog. "Very well, then. What have you done to his grace?"

"I have done nothing," said Master Richard, "save give the message that

our Lord bade me give."

Master-Lieutenant laughed short and sharp at that, and the two men that

held Master Richard laughed with him. (The other two men were gone to

the other end of the hall, and Master Richard could not see what they

were doing.)

"Oho!" said the officer, "that is all that you have done to his grace! I

would advise you, sir, not to play the fool with me. We know very well

what you have done; but we would know from you how and when you did it."

Master Richard said nothing to that. He felt very light in the head,

what with his wounds and the bad air, and the strangeness of the

position. He knew that he was smiling, but he could not prevent it. His

smiling angered the man.

"You dare smile at me, sir!" he cried. "I will teach you to smile!"--and

he struck the table with his hand, so that the ink-horn danced upon it.

"I cannot help smiling," said Master Richard. "I think I am faint, sir."

One of the men shook him by the arm, and Master Richard's sense came

back a little.

When he could see again clearly (for just now the face of the officer

and the woodwork behind him swam like images seen in water),

Master-Lieutenant had a little bottle in his hand. He bade Master

Richard look upon it and asked him what it was.

"I think it to be my Quinte Essence" said Master Richard.

"You acknowledge that then!" cries the man. "And what is Quinte

Essence?"

"It is distilled of blood" said Master Richard.

The officer set the bottle down again upon the table.

"Now sir" he said, "that is enough to cast you. None who was a Christian

man would have such a thing. Say _paternoster_." [This seems to have

been one of the tests in trials for witchcraft.]

"_Paternoster_ ..." began Master Richard.

Now, my children, I cannot explain what this signified, but Master

Richard could get no further than that. I know that I myself cannot say

any of the prayers of mass when I am away from the altar, and other

priests have told me the same of themselves, but it seems to me very

strange that a man should not at any time be able to say _paternoster_.

Whether it was that Master Richard was sick, or that the officer's face

troubled him, or whether that God Almighty desired to put him to a

grievous test, I know not. But he could not say it. He repeated over and

over again, _Paternoster ... Paternoster_, and swayed as he stood.

The officer's face grew dark and a little afraid; he blessed himself

three or four times, and breathed through his nostrils heavily. Master

Richard felt himself smiling again, and presently fell to laughing, and

as he laughed he perceived that the men who held him drew away from him

a little, and blessed themselves too.

"I cannot help it," sobbed Master Richard presently, "to think that I

cannot say _paternoster_!"

When he had recovered himself somewhat, he perceived that the two other

men were come up behind him.

Then the officer bade him turn and look, and he did so, with the tears

of that dreadful laughter still upon his cheeks.

The two men were standing there; one had a great hangman's whip of

leather in his hand, and the other a rope.

"Now, sir;" said the officer behind him, "here is enough authority for

you and me. Shall I bid them begin, or will you tell us what it is that

you have done to the King?"

Now, Master Richard had nothing to tell, as you know; he could not have

saved himself in any case from the torment, but our Lord allowed him to

have this trial, to see how he would bear himself. He might have cried

out for mercy, or told a false tale as men so often have done, but he

did neither of these things. The laughter again rose in his throat, but

he drove it down, and after looking upon the men's faces and the arms of

the man that held the whip, he turned once more to the officer.

"I have scourged myself too often," he said, "to fear such pain; and our

Saviour bore stripes for me."

Then (for the men had released him that he might turn round) he undid

the button at his throat, and threw back the kirtle, knotting the

sleeves about his waist, and so stood, naked to his middle, awaiting the

punishment.

He told me afterwards that never had he felt such lightness and freedom

as he felt at this time. His body yearned for the pain, as it yearned

for the sting and thrill of cold water on a cold day. When he was

telling me, I understood better how it was that the holy martyrs were so

merry in the midst of their torments. [Sir John relates at considerable

length the Acts of St. Laurence and St. Sebastian.]....

When the officer had looked on him a moment, he bade him turn round, and

so, I suppose, sat staring upon the youth's holy shoulders that were

covered with the old stripes that he had given himself. At last Master

Richard faced about again; and again, as he looked upon the solemn face

of the man, he began to laugh. It seemed a marvellous jest, he thought,

that so long a consideration should be given to so small a matter as a

whipping. I am glad I was not there to bear that laughter; I think it

would quite have broken my heart.

* * * * *

Well, my children, I cannot write what followed, but the end of it was

that the post to which Master Richard's hands were tied, and the face of

Master-Lieutenant standing behind it, and the wall behind him with the

weapons upon it, grew white and frosted to the young man's eyes, and

began to toss up and down, and a great roaring sounded in his ears. He

thought, he told me afterwards, that he was on Calvary beneath the rood,

and that the rocks were rending about him.

So he swooned clean away, and was carried back again to his prison.

* * * * *

Now I learned afterwards that the officer had no authority such as he

pretended, but that he had sworn to his fellows that he could find out

the truth by a pretence of it, thinking Master Richard to be a poor

crazed fool who would cry out and confess at the touch of the whip.

But Master Richard did not cry out for mercy. And I hold that he passed

this first trial bravely.