Well, all the prelates and nobles were full witched by Dame Isabel the
Queen, and agreed unto all her plans, the which came ready cut and
dried, as though all had been thought on and settled long afore.
Verily, I dare say it so had. First, they elected the Duke of Aquitaine
to the regency--which of course was the self thing as electing his
mother, since he, being a mere lad, was but her mouthpiece, and was
buxom [submissive] unto her in all things: and all present sware to
fulfil his pleasure, as though he had been soothly king, under his privy
seal, for there was no seal meet for the regency. And incontinent
[immediately] thereafter, the said Duke, speaking doubtless the pleasure
of the Queen, commanded Sir Hugh Le Despenser the father to be brought
to his trial in the hall of the Castle.

Then was he led in, an old white-haired man, [See note in Appendix, on
the Despensers], stately and venerable, who stood up before the Council
as I would think none save innocent man should do, and looked the Queen
straight in the face. He was not witched with her gramary; and soothly
I count in all that hall he was the sole noble that escaped the spell.
A brave man was he, of great probity, prudent in council, valiant in
war: maybe something too readily swayed by other folks (the Queen
except), where he loved them (which he did not her), and from this last
point came all his misfortunes [Note 4].

Now stood he up to answer the charges laid against him (whereof there
were nine), but answer such as man looked for made he none. He passed
all by as of no account, and went right to the heart and verity of the
whole matter. I could not but think of a Prisoner before him who had
answered nothing; and I crede he knew that in like case, "per invidiam
tradidissent eum." [Note 5]. Moreover, he spake not to them that did
the will of other, but to her that was at the core of the whole matter.

"Ah, Dame!" quoth he, bowing low his white, stately head, "God grant us
fair trial and just judge; and if we may not find it in this world, we
look for it in another."

I trust he found it in that other world--nay, I know he must have done.
But in this world did he not find it. Fair trial had he none; it was an
end foregone from the beginning. And as to just judge--well, she is
gone now to her judgment, and I will leave her there.

I had forgot to say in due order that my Lord of Arundel was he that was
tried with him, but he suffered not