culty with a party of peasants which was
extremely discreditable to him, and exhibits his character in a very
unfavorable light. It seems that he was traveling by an obscure
country road, in company with only a single attendant, when he
happened to pass by a village, where he was told a peasant lived who
had a very fine hunting hawk or falcon. Hunting by means of these
hawks was a common amusement of the knights and nobles of those days;
and Richard, when he heard about this hawk, said that a plain
countryman had no business with such a bird. He declared that he
would go to his house and take it away from him. This act, so
characteristic of the despotic arrogance which marked Richard's
character, shows that the reckless ferocity for which he was so
renowned was not softened or alleviated by any true and genuine
nobleness or generosity. For a rich and powerful king thus to rob a
poor, helpless peasant, and on such a pretext too, was as base a deed
as we can well conceive a royal personage to perform.

Richard at once proceeded to carry his design into execution. He went
into the peasant's house, and having, under some pretext or other, got
possession of the falcon, he began to ride away with the bird on his
wrist. The peasant called out to him to give him back his bird.
Richard paid no attention to him, but rode on. The peasant then called
for help, and other villagers joining him, they followed the king,
each one having seized in the mean time such weapons as came most
readily to hand. They surrounded the king in order to take the falcon
away, while he attempted to beat them off with his sword. Pretty soon
he broke his sword by a blow which he struck at one of the peasants,
and then he was in a great measure defenseless. His only safety now
was in flight. He contrived to force his way through the circle that
surrounded him, and began to gallop away, followed by his attendant.
At length he succeeded in reaching a priory, where he was received and
protected from farther danger, having, in the mean time, given up the
falcon. When the excitement had subsided he resumed his journey, and
at length, without any farther adventures, reached the coast at the
point nearest to Sicily. Here he passed the night in a tent, which he
pitched upon the rocks on the shore, waiting for arrangements to be
made on the next day for his public entrance into the harbor of
Messina, which lay just opposite to him, across the narrow strait that
he