“But I know what I wish to be said to him, though I dare not say it myself, or set eyes on him—­and that is that I pray him to forgive us, and to speak our names before the Lord God when he comes before His Majesty.”

“I will tell him that, my lord,” I said softly, for I did not doubt that Master Richard would speak before he died.

After a while longer my lord cardinal asked how he did, and I told him that he had lain very quiet all day without speaking or moving, and then, for I knew what my lord wanted, I bade him in Jesu’s name to come in and look on him.  For a while he would not, and then he came, and knelt down beside the King.

Master Richard was lying now upon his back, with his hands hidden and clasped upon his breast, and his lips were moving a little without sound.  I think that he had never had so long and so heavenly a colloquy as he was enjoying then.  I do not know whether it were the cardinal’s presence that disturbed him, or whether in that secret place where his soul was retired he heard what had been said by us, but he spoke aloud for the first time that day, and this is what he said:—­

“Et dimitte nobis debita nostra; sicut et nos dimittimus debitoribus nostris.” ["And forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive them that trespass against us.”]

I saw my lord’s face go down upon his hands, and the King’s face rise and look at him.  And presently my lord went out.

* * * * *

I cannot tell you, my children, how that day passed, for it was like no day that I have ever spent.  It appeared to me that there was no time, but that all stood still.  Without, the palace was as still as death on the one side—­for the King had ordered it so—­and on the other there was the noise from the river, little and clear and distinct, of the water washing in the sedges and against the stones, and the cries of the boatmen on the further shore, and the rattle of their oars as they took men across.

Once, as I stood by the window saying 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.]....