aying my office, a boat went by with
folk talking in it, and I heard enough of what they said to know that
they were speaking of Master Richard, and I heard one telling the tale
to another, and saw him point to the windows of the palace. But when
they saw me look out they gave over talking.

A little after the evening bell Master Blytchett took the King out to
his supper, and I was left alone with Master Richard, but I knew that
there were servants in the passage whom I might call if I needed them.

So I sat down by the pillow and looked at him a great while.

I will tell you, my children, something of what I thought at this time,
for it is at such times when the eyes are washed clean by tears that the
soul looks out upon truth and sees it as it is. [I have omitted a great
number of Sir John's reflections. Many of them are too trite even for
this work, and others are so much confused that it is useless to
transcribe them. Sir John seems to have been dearly fond of sermonizing.
Even these that I have retained and set within brackets can be omitted
in reading by those who prefer to supply their own comment.]....

* * * * *

{I thought of the _ironia_ that marks our Lord's dealings. Master
Richard had come to bring tidings of another's passion, and he found his
own in the bringing of it. It was as when children play at the hanging
of a murderer or a thief, and one is set to play the part of prisoner
and another to hang him, and then at the end when all is prepared they
turn upon the hangman and bid him prepare himself for whipping and death
instead of the other, or maybe both are to be hanged. But our Lord is
not cruel, like such children, but kind, and I think that He acts so to
shew us that life is nothing but a play and a pretence, and that His
will must be done, however much we rebel at it. He teaches us, too, that
the blows we receive and even death itself are only seeming, though they
hurt us at the time, but that we must play in a gallant and merry
spirit, and be tender, too, and forgive one another easily, and that He
will set all right and allot to each his reward at the end of the
playing. And, since it is but a play, we are none of us kings or
cardinals or poor men in reality; we are all of us mere children of our
Father, and upon one is set a crown for a jest, and another is robed in
sanguine, and another in a brown kirtle or a white; and at the end the
trinkets are all put ba