“That is the cordial called Quinte Essence,” said Master Richard, smiling.

They thought it to be a poison, so he was forced to explain that it was not.

“It is made from man’s blood,” he said, “which is the most perfect part of our being, and does miracles if it is used aright.”

They would know more than that, so he told them how it was made, with salt, and set in the body of a horse, and afterwards distilled, and he told them what marvels it wrought by God’s grace; how it would draw out the virtues and properties of things, and could be mixed with medicines, and the rest, as I have told to you before.  That is the bottle you have seen at the parsonage.

But they would not give it back to him at that time, and said that he should have it when the King had done talking with him.  Then they went out and left him alone, but one stood at the door to keep him until dinner was over.

It was a little room, Master Richard said, and looked on to the river.  It was hung with green saye, and was laid with rushes.  There was a round table in the midst of the floor, and a chair on this side and that; and there was an image of Christ upon the rood that stood upon the table.  There was another door than that through which he had been brought from the hall.

Master Richard, when he was left alone, tried to compose himself to devotion, but he was too much distracted by all that he had seen, until he had said ad sextam, and then he was quieter, and sat down before the table, looking upon the rood, and he did not know how long had passed before the King came in.

* * * * *

My children, I like to think of Master Richard then; it was his last peaceful hour that he spent until near the end when I came to him.  But the peace of his heart did not leave him (except at one time), in spite of all that happened to him, for he told me so himself.  Yet, save for the little wound upon his head, he was clean of all injury at this time, and I like to think of him in his strength and loveliness as he was then, content to give his tidings from our Lord to the King, and to abide what was to follow.

As the clock beat eleven, the King came suddenly through from his parlour, but he was not alone:  my lord cardinal was with him.

As Master Richard knelt down on the floor to do them homage, he observed the King’s dress:  it was not as that of the other great men, for the King loved plain dress, and folks said that the clothing he would have liked best to wear was a monk’s cowl or a friar’s frock (and I doubt not that there be many a monk and friar, and clerk too, who would have been glad to change with him, for not every Religious man has a Religious heart!).... [There follows a little sermon on Vocation.]

The King’s dress was a plain doublet with a collar of ermine, and over it a cloak of royal purple lined and trimmed with fur, but cut very plainly with a round cape such as priests wear.  He had the collar of Sanctus Spiritus over his shoulders, his cap on his head, with a peak to it, and little plain round shoes (not like those pointed follies that some wear, and that make a man’s foot twice as long as God made it by His wisdom).  My lord cardinal was in his proper dress, and bore himself very stately.