’And therefore, Milo, it is urged upon the clergy by the ordinances of many honourable popes and patriarchs?’

‘Distinguo, sire,’ said Milo, ’distinguo.  There are other reasons.  It is written, So run that ye may obtain.  Now, no man can run after the prize we seek if he carrieth a woman on his back.  And that for two reasons:  first, because she is so much dead weight; and second, because a woman is so made that, if her bearer did achieve the reward, she would immediately claim a share in it.  But that is no part of the divine plan, as I understand it.’

‘Let us talk of the laity, Milo,’ said the King, abstractedly.  ’If one of them set up for a runner, should he not be a virgin?’

‘Lord,’ replied the abbot, ‘if he can.  But that is not so convenient.’

‘How not so?’ asked King Richard.

‘My lord,’ Milo said, if all the laity were virgins there would soon be no laity at all, and then there would be no priests—­a state of affairs not provided for by the Holy Church.  Moreover, the laity have a kingdom in this world; but the religious not of this world.  Now, this world is too excellent a good place not to be peopled; and God hath appointed a pleasant way.’

Said the King, ‘A way of sorrow and shame.’

‘Not so, sire,’ said Milo, ’but a way of honour.  And if I rejoice that the same way is before your Grace, I am not alone in happiness.’

‘A king’s business,’ said Richard, ’is to govern himself wisely (having paid his debts), and his people wisely.  It may be that he should get heirs if none are.  But if heirs there be, then what is his business with more?  Why should his son be better king than his brother, for example?’

‘Lord,’ Milo admonished, ’a king who is sure of himself will make sure of his issue.  That too is a king’s business.’

Said Richard moodily, ‘Who is sure of himself?’ He turned away his head, bidding Milo a good night.  As the abbot made his reverence he added, ’I am to be married to-morrow.’

‘I devoutly hope so,’ said the good man.  ’And then your Grace will have a surer hope than in your Grace’s brother.’

‘Get you to bed, Milo,’ Richard said, ‘and let me be alone.’

Married he was, so far as the Church could provide, in the Basilica of Limasol, with the Bishop of Salisbury to celebrate.  Vassals of his, and allies, great lords of three realms, bishops and noble knights filled the church and saw the rites done.  High above them afterwards, before the altar, he sat crowned and vested in purple, holding in his right hand the sceptre of his power, and the orb of his dominion in his left hand.  Then Berengere, daughter of Navarre, kneeling before him, was by him thrice crowned:  Queen of England, Empress of Cyprus, Duchess of Normandy.  But she never got upon her little dark head the red cap of Anjou which had covered up Jehane’s gold hair.  Jehane was neither at the church nor at the great feast that followed.  She, on Richard’s bidding, was in her ship, Li Chastel Orgoilous, whose head swayed to the running tide.