ter, and
after spending some time in the examination of it, he announced that he
thought he could read it, "for the lad had written the letters great,
like a good lad, as he always was." Richard had, indeed, purposely done
so, because he anticipated that Friar Andrew would have to read it. The
Palmer interposed, saying that he could read well, and offered to read
the letter; but this Dame Lovell civilly declined, because she thought
there might be secrets in the letter, and she did not know whether the
Palmer were to be trusted. Friar Andrew was mechanically retiring into
one of the deep windows, but Dame Lovell stopped him, and requested him
to follow her to her own room. She gathered up her baudekyn, and left
the servants to entertain the Palmer, who she gave orders should be
feasted with the best in the house.
"Now, father," said Dame Lovell, when she had Friar Andrew and the
letter safe in her own apartment, "Now read, I pray thee; but we will
have no eavesdroppers, and though Palmers be holy men, yet may they
carry tales."
Friar Andrew sat down, cleared his throat, and began to read rather
grandiloquently. He read syllable by syllable, like a child, and every
now and then stumbled over a hard word. As to the names of places, he
declared himself unable to read those at all. I therefore purpose to
give the letter, not as Andrew read it, but as Richard wrote it.
"_To the hands of the very worthy Dame, my good lady and mistress, Dame
Agnes Lovell, of Lovell Tower, be these delivered with all convenient
speed_.
"Dear Mistress and my worthy Dame,--In as humble and lowly wise as may
be, I commend myself to your kindly favour, hoping that these may find
you in health, as they leave me presently. I do you to wit, good
mistress, that I have arrived safely, by the grace of our Lord, at
Damascus, which is a very fair and rich city, and full of all manner of
merchandise; and I have been by Byzantium, and have seen all the holy
relics there kept; to wit, the cross of our Lord, and His coat, and the
sponge and reed wherewith the heathen Jews [`Cursed be they!' interposed
Friar Andrew] did give Him to drink, and more blessed relics else than I
have the time to write of, the which nathless be named, as I think, in
the Travels of Sir John Maundeville. This city of Damascus is very
great, and there be about the same so fair gardens as I never did see at
any other place; moreover, Saint Paul here dwelt, and was a leec
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