“And what other tidings be there, pray you, holy Father?”
“Scarce aught beside of note, I think,” answered the Abbot, meditatively—“without it be the news from Brittany of late—’tis said all Brittany is in revolt, and the King of France aiding the same, and the Duke is fled over hither to King Edward, leaving my Lady Duchess shut up in the Castle of Auray, which ’tis thought the French King shall besiege. Man reckons he comes for little—I would say, that our King shall give him little ado over that matter, without it were to ransom my Lady, should she be taken, she being step-daughter unto my Lord Prince.”
“The Lord King, then, showeth him no great favour?”
“Favour enough to his particular (to himself personally); but you will quickly judge there is little likelihood of a new army fitted out for Brittany, when you hear that his Grace writ to my Lord Archbishop of Canterbury that he should in no wise submit to the tax laid on the clergy by my Lord Cardinal of Cluny, that came o’er touching those affairs, and charged the expenses of his journey on the clergy of England. The King gave promise to stand by them in case they should resist, and bade them take no heed of the censure of the said Nuncio, seeing the people of England were not concerned touching matters of Brittany; and where the cause, quoth he, is so unjust, the curse must needs fall harmless.”
“Brave words, in good sooth!” said young Godfrey.
“Ay, our Lord the King is not he that shall suffer man to ride roughshod over him,” added his father.
“The which is full well in case of laymen,” said the Abbot, a little severely; “yet it becometh even princes to be buxom and reverent to the Church, and unto all spiritual men.”
“If it might please you, holy Father, would you do so much grace as tell me where is my Lord Duke at this present?”
It was Perrote who asked the question, and with evident uneasiness.
The Abbot glanced at her, and then answered carelessly. She was only one of the household, as he saw. What did her anxiety matter to my Lord Abbot of Darley?