ame softly down to receive from his hand the
cherished and fatal volume!

Richard broke the seal, while Friar Andrew threw back his cowl, and Dame
Lovell smoothed her apron, and bent forward to listen.

"Mine Own Dear Mother,--In as humble and lowly manner as I may, I
commend myself unto you, praying you of your daily blessing.

"Whereas I hear that Richard Pynson hath been here in London on Saint
Luke's Day last, and hath borne back Geoffrey with him, at the which
news I am truly glad, I trow that you have heard of my close prison in
the Tower, whence I now write. I pray you therefore, good mother, not
to lay this overmuch to heart, neither to grieve for me; for I certify
unto you that never was I so happy and blessed as now I am, when over
the dark water, which is death, I can see a glimpse of the Happy City.
Neither, good mother, be downcast, I beseech you, when you shall hear
that on Sunday, the eve of Saint Anselm, I am to die. I pray you, dear
mother, if you knew that on Sunday I should be advanced to some high
place in the Court, would you sorrow? Yea, would you not rejoice
greatly therefor? Wherefore I entreat you, sorrow not now, but rejoice
rather, for I am to be taken up into an high place, yea, passing high--
even the Court of Christ Himself, whence also none of those changes and
evils can cast me down again, which are ever coming upon them who live
in this world.

"Moreover, good mother, I do you to wit that this is Christ's truth for
the which I suffer, and that Christ Himself is with me. Yea, I think on
Christ as He that is standing on the other side of the fire; and shall I
not then make haste through the same that I may come at Him?

"Likewise I do beseech you, mine own dear mother, grieve not when you
think that I have had but little joy or gladness in this my short life.
If divers children be playing in a garden, and the serving-man do come
and fetch away some afore others, that they may see their elders, and
may have brave gifts the which be ready for them at home, fall they
a-weeping, think you, because they must lose an hour of play? Nay,
truly not, if their hearts be set on the brave gifts afore them. So,
good mother, though you have passed in this weary and evil life nigh
sixty years, and I only twenty-three, count it, I beseech you, but an
hour more or less of child's playing, which will surely be made up to us
when we go home, and receive the brave gifts which our Father hath for
us