“My lord, d-do not sign this paper.”
“And the man is father to thy lady?” quoth Richard.
“Though he were mine own f-father and his life hung on 't, natheless, sire, for England's sake must I beseech you, d-do not sign. 'T is to be f-feared the people will be wroth if men be sent into Essex and Kent to require this tax anew. They declare they have paid once, and they will not pay ag-g-gain. They will rise. O sire,—have a care!”
“Cœur de joie!—Rise, sayst 'ou?” Richard cried. “Rise!—Do I not await this Rising these three year? Ha, ha!—'T is full time to sign my name! So be it.—My lords, do ye believe this people is so bold?—Nor I!—Ha, ha!—They 'll never do 't, Etienne.—But if my pen shall prick them on, why, there 's the King's name!—Rise!”
He flung the parchment to the Archbishop, and gave his hand to his mother to lead her forth to sup.
In the doorway Master John Gower awaited that Long Will came forth.
“Tell me, friend, dost know aught of this rising whereof men prate?” said he. “If 't is true,—but how were that to be believed,—I have manors in Kent, 't behoveth me”—
“What I know 't were long to tell,” Will answered, and left him standing.