It is strange to think that other men went about their business in the
palace, and knew nothing of what was passing. It is more strange that
that morning I said mass in the country and did not faint for fear or
sorrow. But it is always so, by God's loving-kindness, for no man could
bear to live if he knew all that was happening in the world at one time.
[Sir John adds some trite reflections of an obvious character.]....
There was a little heaviness upon me that morning, but I think no more
than there had been every day since Master Richard had left us. It was
not until noon that a strange event happened to me. This day was
Wednesday after Corpus Christi, the sixth day since he was gone.
There was only one man that knew aught of what was passing in the
interior world, and that was the ankret in the cell against the abbey,
but of that you shall hear in the proper place.
Of what fell on that day I heard from an old priest whom I saw
afterwards, and who was in the palace at that time. He was chaplain to
my lord cardinal and his name was....
He told me that very early in the morning my lord sent for him and told
him that he would hold an examination of Master Richard that day after
dinner, to see if he should be put on his trial for bewitching the King.
There were none who doubted that he had bewitched the King, for his
grace had sat in a stupor for two days, ever since he had heard the
tidings from the holy youth. He heard his masses each morning with a
fallen countenance, and took a little food in private, and slept in his
clothes sitting in his chair; and spoke to none, and, it seemed, heard
none. Though he had been always of a serious and quiet mind, loving to
pray and to hear preaching more than to talk, yet this was the first of
those strange visitations of God that fell upon him so frequently in his
later years. Those then (and especially my lord cardinal) who now saw
him in such a state, did not doubt that there was sorcery in the matter,
and that Master Richard was the sorcerer; for the tale of the Quinte
Essence--of which at that time men knew nothing--and how that he could
not say _paternoster_ when it was put to him;--all this was run about
the court like fire.
But the tale of the clerk who went to him and sought to shake him, I
heard nothing of, save from Master Richard's own lips. None knew of
what had happened, and some afterwards thought that it was the fiend who
went to Master Richard, but some others that it was indeed one of the
clerks of the court who had perhaps stolen the keys, and gone in to get
credit to himself by persuading Master Richard to confess that all was a
delusion. For myself, I do not know what to think. [I suspect that Sir
John was inclined to think it was the devil, for at this point he
discusses at some length various cases in which Satan so acted. He seems
to imply that it was a peculiar and cynical pleasure to the Lord of Evil
to disguise himself as an ecclesiastic.]....
Now, old Master ... said mass before my lord cardinal at seven o'clock,
and then went to his own chamber, but he was immediately sent for again
to my lord, who appeared to be in a great agitation. My lord told him
that one had come from the ankret to bid him let Master Richard go, for
that it was not the young man who was afflicting the King, but God
Almighty.
"But he shall not play Pilate's wife with me," said my lord in a great
fury, "I shall go through with this matter. See that you be with me,
Master Priest, at noon, and we will see justice done. I doubt not that
the young man must go for his trial."
He told the clerk, too, that Master Blytchett was greatly concerned
about his grace, and that the court would be in an uproar if somewhat
were not done at once. He had sat three hours last night with ... and
... and ... and ..., [It would be interesting to know who were these
persons.] and they had all declared the same thing. But he said nothing
of the whipping of Master Richard, and I truly believe that he knew
nothing of it.
So the hour for the questioning was fixed at noon, and the place to be
in my lord cardinal's privy parlour.
* * * * *
Now that morning, as I told you, I was no more than usually heavy. I
remembered Master Richard's name before God upon the altar, and at ten
o'clock I went to dinner in the parsonage. It was a very bright hot
day, and I had the windows wide, and listened to the bees that were very
busy in the garden. I remember that I wondered whether they knew aught
of my dear lad, for I hold that they are very near to God, more so than
perhaps any of His senseless creatures, and that is why Holy Church on
Easter Eve says such wonderful things about them, and the work that they
do. [This refers to the _Exultet_ sung by the deacon in the Roman rite
on Holy Saturday.]
For they fashion first wax and then honey. It is the wax that in the
church gives light and honour to God, and it is to the honey-comb that
God's Word is compared by David. [Sir John continues in this strain for
a page or two.]....
It is not strange then that I thought about the bees, and the knowledge
that they have.
After I had done dinner, I slept a little as my custom is, and the last
sound that I heard, and the first upon awaking, was the drone of the
bees. When I awakened I thought that I would walk down to Master
Richard's house and see how all fared. So I took my staff and set out.
It was very cool and dark in the wood, through which I had come up six
days before walking in the summer night with the young man, and all was
very quiet. I could hear only the hum of the flies, and, as I drew
nearer, the running of the water over the stones of the road, where it
crosses it beside the little bridge.
Then I came out beside the gate into the meadow, and my eyes were
dazzled by the hot light of the sun after the darkness of the wood.
I stood by the gate a good while, leaning my arms upon it (for I felt
very heavy and weary), and looking across the meadow yellow with flowers
to the green hazels beyond, and between me and the wood the air shook as
if in terror or joy, I knew not which. I could see, too, the open door
of the hut, and its domed roof of straw, and the wicket leaning against
the wall as he had left it, and on either side the may-trees lifted
their bright heads.
My children, I am not ashamed to tell you that I could not see all this
very clearly, for my eyes were dim at the thought that the master of it
was not here, and that I knew not where he was nor how he fared. I
prayed saint Giles with all my might that I might see him here again,
and walk with him as I had walked so often. And then at the end, a
little after I had heard the _Angelus_ ring from over the wood, and had
saluted our Lady and entreated her for Master Richard, I thought that I
would go up and see the hut.
As I went I perceived that here, too, the bees were busy in the noon of
the day, going to and fro intently, but I was to see yet more of them,
for I heard a great droning about me. At first I could not perceive
whence it came, but presently I saw a great ball of them gathering on
the doorway of the hut, as their custom is in summer-time. I was
astonished at that, I do not know why, but it seemed to me that bees
were all about me, _semitam meam et funiculum meum investigantes; omnes
vias meas praevidentes._ ["searching out my path and my line; foreseeing
all my ways" (from Ps. cxxxviii. 3,4.)] Well, I looked on them awhile,
but they seemed as if they would do me no harm, yet I did not wish to go
into the house while they hung there, so I was content with looking in
from where I stood. I could not see very much, my eyes were too weary
with the sunshine that beat on my head, and it was, perhaps, God's
purpose that I should not go in to see what I was not worthy to see.
I had, too, something of fear in my heart; it was like the fear that I
had had when I looked on Master Richard six days before as he prayed. So
I stood a little distance from the door and observed it and the bees. Of
the inside of the but I could see no more than the beaten mud floor for
a little space within, and through the veil of bees that swung this way
and that working their mysteries, the green light of the window looking
upon the hazel wood, above which was the image of the Mother of God.
Then on a sudden my fear came on me strongly, and I cried out what I
think was Master Richard's name for I thought that he was near me, but
there was no answer, and after I had looked a little more, I turned back
by the way I had come.
Now, here, my children, happened a marvellous thing.
When I reached the gate and had gone through it, I turned round again
towards the hut, ashamed of the terror that had lain on me as I walked
down, for I had walked like one in a nightmare, not daring to turn my
head.
And as I turned, for one instant I saw Master Richard himself, in his
brown kirtle and white sleeves standing at the door of his hut, with his
arms out as if to stretch himself, or else as our Saviour stretched them
on the rood. I could not observe his face, for in an instant he was
gone, before I had time to see him clearly, but I am sure that his face
was merry, for it was at this hour that he found his release before my
lord cardinal, and cried out, as you shall hear in the proper place.
I stood there a long while, stretching out my own hands and crying on
him by name, but there was no more to be seen but the hut and its open
door, and the may-trees on either side, and the wood behind, and the
yellow-flowered meadow before me, and no sound but the drone of the bees
and the running of the water. And I dared not go up again, or set foot
in the meadow.
* * * * *
So I went home again, and told no man, for I thought that the vision was
for myself alone, and as night fell the messenger came to bid me come to
town, and to deliver to me the letter from the old priest of whom I have
spoken.
How one came to Master Priest: how Master Priest came to the King's
Bedchamber: and of what he heard of the name of Jesus
_Dum anxiaretur cor meum: in petra exaltasti me._
When my heart was in anguish: Thou hast exalted me on a rock.
--_Ps. lx. 3._