“Not by the King?” asked Calote.
Richard looked on her uncertain, then his face flushed and he struck his long-bow vehement into the earth:—
“The King may do what he will!” he cried; “else wherefore is he King? Tell me, will they aid me to put down mine uncle, John of Gaunt, and all these that tie my hands, and the Council that now is the verray governor of this realm? Will they do all these things for me, if I make them free men?”
“This and more than this, sire!” Calote exclaimed; “For they 'll build up a kingdom whereof the foundation is love, and the law will be not to take away by tax, but to see that every man hath enough.”
“Shall it be soon?” asked Richard.
“That I cannot tell. The realm of England is a wide realm, not easy to traverse.”
Richard turned hesitating to his squire: “I would it were wise, this that the maid telleth. In vérité, is 't so? What dost say, Etienne? I—I fear mine uncle and Sudbury would laugh.”
“I say, 't is a wicked and evil counsel that sendeth forth a young maid to encounter perils. No love ruleth the hearts of them that send her.”
“Art thou my true lover, in good sooth?” cried Calote, “and would undo that I have most at heart?”
“Moreover, 't is beside my question,” Richard added fretfully. “I would know but only if an uprising, like to this Calote stirreth, is of power to succeed against nobilité?”