“Ay.”
“And what did my Lord when thou sawest him? Arede me all things touching him. What ware he?—and what said he?—and how looked he? Knew he thou shouldst see me?—and sent he me no word by thee?”
“Six questions in a breath, Custance!”
“Go to—one after other. What ware he?”
“By my mistress Saint Clare! how should I wit? An hundred yards of golden baudekyn, and fifty of pink velvet; and pennes (plumes) of ostriches enough to set up a peltier (furrier) in trade.”
“And how looked he?”
“As his wont is—right goodly, and preux (brave) and courteous.”
“Ay so!” said Constance tenderly. “And knew he thou shouldst see me?”
“I am not well assured, but methinks rather ay than nay.”
“And what word sent he by thee?”