r Idleness
Is chief mistress
Of vices all.
Then who can say
But mirth and play
Is best of all?"

As to the tune of it their revels ended, Henry and Catherine of
Aragon and Charles the Emperor passed from the sunlit stage, one
solitary figure--the blind Bishop of Merchester--lingered, and
stretched out his hands for the monks to come and lead him home,
stretched out his hands towards the Cathedral behind the green elms.

"Being blind, I trust the Light.
Ah, Mother Church! If fire must purify,
If tribulation search thee, shall I plead
_Not in my time, O Lord_? Nay let me know
All dark, yet trust the dawn--remembering
The order of thy services, thy sweet songs,
Thy decent ministrations--Levite, priest
And sacrifice--those antepasts of heaven.
We have sinn'd, we have sinn'd! But never yet went out
The flame upon the altar, day or night;
And it shall save thee, O Jerusalem!
Jerusalem!"

"And I stole that straight out of Jeremy Taylor," murmured Brother
Copas, as the monks led off their Bishop, chanting--

"Crux, in caelo lux superna,
Sis in carnis hac taberna
Mihi pedibus lucerna--

"Quo vexillum Dux cohortis
Sistet, super flumen mortis,
Te, flammantibus in portis!"

--"While I wrote that dog-Latin myself," said Brother Copas, musing,
forgetful that he, the author, was lingering on the stage from which
he ought to have removed himself three minutes ago with the rest of
the crowd.

"Ger' out! Get off, zat olt fool! What ze devil you mean by
doddling!"

It was the voice of Mr. Isidore screeching upon him through the
megaphone. Brother Copas turned about, uplifting his face to it for
a moment with a dazed stare. . . . It seemed that, this time,
everyone in the Grand Stand must have heard. He fled: he made the
most ignominious exit in the whole Pageant.

The afternoon heat was broiling. . . . He had no sooner gained the
green-room shade of his elm than the whole of the Brethren were
summoned forth anew; this time to assist at the spousals of Queen
Mary of England with King Philip of Spain. And this Episode
(Number VII on the programme) was Corona's.

He had meant--and again he cursed his forgetfulness--to seek her out
at the last moment and whisper a word of encouragement. The child
must needs be nervous. . . .

He had missed his chance now. He followed the