At Paris she had her robes made, of purple and colour of Malbryn, for the feast of All Saints, and they were furred with miniver and beasts ermines. And to me Cicely was delivered, to make my robe for the same, three ells rayed (striped) cloth and a lamb fur, and an hood of budge.
The Queen spent nigh an whole day at Sessouns, and another at Reyns, in visiting the churches; and the last can I well remember, by reason of that which came after. First, we went to the church of Saint Nicholas, where she offered a cloth of Turk, price forty shillings; and to Saint Remy she gave another, price forty-five shillings; and to the high altar of the Cathedral one something better. And to the ampulla (Note 7) and shrine of Saint Remy a crown, and likewise a crown to the holy relics there kept. Then to the Friars Minors, where at the high altar she offered a cloth of Lucca bought in the town, price three and an half marks (Note 8). And (which I had nearhand forgot) to the head of Saint Nicasius in the Cathedral, a crown.
The last night ere we left Sessouns, I remember, as I came into the Queen’s lodging from vespers in the Cathedral,—Jack, that went with me, having tarried at the potter’s to see wherefore he sent not home three dozen glasses for the Queen’s table (and by the same token, the knave asked fifteen pence for the same when they did come, which is a price to make the hair stand on end)—well, as I said, I was a-coming in, when I met one coming forth that at first sight I wist not. And yet, when I meditated, I did know him, but I could not tell his name. He had taken no note of me, save to hap his mantle somewhat closer about his face, as though he cared not to be known—or it might be only that he felt the cold, for it was sharp for the time of year. Up went I into the Queen’s lodging, which was then in the house of one John de Gyse, that was an honester man than Master Bolard, with whom she lodged at Burgette, for that last charged her three shillings and seven-pence for a worser lodging than Master Gyse gave her for two shillings.
I had writ thus far when I heard behind me a little bruit that I knew.
“Well, Jack?” said I, not looking up.
“Would thou wert better flyer of falcons, Sissot!” saith he.
“Dear heart! what means that, trow?” quoth I.
“Then shouldst thou know,” he made answer, “that to suffer a second quarry to turn thee from thy first is oft-times to lose both.”
“Verily, Jack, I conceive not thy meaning.”
“Why, look on yon last piece. It begins with thee coming home from vespers. Then it flieth to me, to the potter and his glasses, to the knavery of his charges, and cometh back to the man whom thou didst meet coming forth of the door—whom it hath no sooner touched, than it is off again to the cold even; then comest thou into the Queen’s lodging, and down ‘grees’ (degrees, that is, stairs) once more to the landlord’s bill. Do, prithee, keep to one heron till thou hast bagged him.”