“Who will save us?—The Archbishop is slain!”
Then did Richard light down off his horse and kissed the cross; and my Lord Buckingham, the King's uncle,—that strong man,—burst into tears and ran into the church. And presently, all those great nobles and puissant gentlemen were within, running up and down with tears and sighs to kiss and clasp the shrines and the most holy relics, sobbing and shuddering liker to weak women than warriors; striving as who should kneel more close to holiness,—and all the tombs and sacred places wet with their weeping. King Richard knelt to pray at the Confessor's shrine and bade call a father to confess him his sins, which when he had done, the King went out soberly to his horse. And all this while Stephen stood without the church holding the King's horse by the bridle. So when the King was in his saddle they two waited silent, and one after one the knights and nobles came forth; and 't would seem they were greatly strengthened by those prayers and confessions, for now they spoke together somewhat concerning ways and means.
“If the peasants can be drawn forth of the city and the gates closed, sire,‘ said Walworth, ’methinks we may hold against them. There be many loyal citizens of London, and many more since yesterday, for there begin to be murmurings against Wat Tyler.”
“My Lord Mayor,” said Buckingham harshly, “you will do well to remember that one walketh at the King's bridle who maketh boast to serve these rebels.”
“I am the King's servant likewise,” said Stephen.
“Were the good Archbishop on live,” quoth Salisbury very grave, “I make no doubt he would say a man may not serve two masters.”
“The King and the people are one, my lord.”
There was a murmur, yet none dared speak openly his discontent.
Then said Richard, nor turned his face to right nor left but rode straight forward: “The King is the people.”
Nevertheless, neither Stephen nor the nobles might read his meaning, and 't were marvel if himself knew what he would do.