t as he
micht afore a servitor; when he walked even with the King, and sometimes
afore him; when he was wont to put him down, and mock at him, and make
him a laughing-stock. I have heard him myself say to the King--`Hold
thy peace, lad!' and the King took it as sweetly as if he had been
swearing of allegiance."

"I have eyes in mine head, my fair warrior, and ears belike. I saw so
much as thou--maybe a little more, since I was something oftener in my
Lord's company than thou."

"But thou sawest what he was?" said I.

"So did I; and sorry am I to have demerited the wrath of Dame Cicely de
Chaucombe, for that I oped not the King my master's even."

"Nay, Jack! I never meant thee. I have somewhat more reverence for
mine husband than so."

"Then art thou a very pearl amongst women. Most dames' husbands find
not much reverence stray their way--at least from that quarter. I
misdoubt if Vivien's husband ever picks up more than should lightly slip
into his pocket."

"Sir James Le Bretun is not so wise as thou," said I. "But what I
meant, Jack, was such as my Lord of Lancaster and my Lord of Kent, and
my Lord of Hereford--why did never such as these tell the King sooth
touching the Mortimer?"

"As for my Lord of Hereford," saith Jack, "I reckon he was too busied
feeling of his pulse and counting his emplastures, and telling his
apothecary which side of his head ached worser since the last draught of
camomile and mallows. Sir Edmund de Mauley was wont to say he had a
grove of aspens at Pleshy for to make his own populion [Note 1], and
that he brake his fast o' dragons' blood and dyachylon emplasture.
Touching that will I not say; but I reckon he thought oftener on his
tamarind drink than on the public welfare. He might, perchance, have
bestirred him to speak to the King had he heard that he had a freckle of
his nose, for to avise him to put white ointment thereon; but scarce, I
reckon, for so small a matter as the good government of the realm."

"Now, Jack!" said I, a-laughing.

"My Lord of Kent," went he forth, "was he that, if he thought he had
hurt the feelings of a caterpillar, should have risen from his warm bed
the sharpest night in winter to go and pray his pardon of his bare
knees. God assoil him, loving and gentle soul! He was all unfit for
this rough world. And the dust that Sir Roger cast up at his
horse-heels was in my Lord of Kent's eyes as thick as any man's. He
could not have warned the Kin