Sira Viliam.
The Duke sends you greeting, my lord; he has already passed Hoved-isle!
Bishop Nicholas.
'Tis well, very well. Belike the King, too, will soon be here. I have been a sinful hound in my day, Viliam; I have grievously trespassed against the King. The priests in there averred that all my sins should be forgiven me;—well well, it may be so; but 'tis easy for them to promise; 'tis not against <g>them</g> that I have trespassed. No no; it is safest to have it from the King's own mouth. [Exclaims impatiently.] Light, I say! 'tis so dark in here.
Sira Viliam.
The candles are lighted
Master Sigard.
[Stops him by a sign, and approaches the Bishop.] How goes it with you, my lord?
Bishop Nicholas.
So-so—so-so; my hands and feet are cold.
Master Sigard.
[Half aloud, as he moves the brazier nearer.] Ha—'tis the beginning of the end.
Bishop Nicholas.
[Apprehensively, to Viliam.] I have commanded that eight monks shall chant and pray for me in
