"It is better sometimes to die than to live," answered Leofric softly in his ear. Then both knelt down by the side of their comrade, and the monk commended the departing soul into the hands of God. When they arose, Amalric lay still with a smile upon his lips, and the monk, folding the hands upon the mailed breast, said reverently, "Requiescat in pace."
Jack's sobs could not be controlled; Leofric's tears were on his cheek, but he commanded himself, and whispered a word in the ear first of the monk and then of his companion.
Together they lifted the inanimate form and reverently carried it to the chapel, where before the altar, beneath a velvet pall, lay the mutilated body of Simon de Montfort, Earl of Leicester.
They laid Amalric down beside his father, and Leofric spread over him the silken banner which had been worked by the fingers of Alys and Linda.
It mattered not in the eyes of the monks that De Montfort and his sons lay under the ban of papal excommunication. England had never altogether submitted to the tyranny of the Pope, and at a moment like this nothing was remembered by those pious men save that the Earl had fought a good fight, had been their friend and the friend of the people, and had died a hero's death upon the field of battle.
For long was it reported that marvellous miracles were performed by the remains of the slaughtered warrior, and he was regarded by a large portion of the nation as both saint and martyr. Many were the songs composed to his memory, most of them being in Norman-French, of which this may be cited as a specimen, showing how greatly the hearts of the people were wrapped up in him:—
"I needs must sing, my heart so bids, although my words be drear;
With tearful eyes was made this song of England's barons dear,
Who for the peace made long ago went down unto the grave,
Their bodies maimed and mangled sore, our English land to save.
Now here lies low the flower of price,
Who knew so much of war,
Brave Montfort knight, his woful plight
The land shall long deplore
"But by his death the Earl Montfort the victory has won;
Like holy martyr Thomas, he to cruel death was done;
Like Thomas, would not that aught ill should holy Church betide;
Like Thomas, fought, and showing naught of flinching, like him died.
Now here lies low the flower of price,
Who knew so much of war,
Brave Montfort knight, his woful plight
The land shall long deplore."
Note.—Amalric de Montfort, though wounded and made prisoner, did not really perish upon the field of Evesham.