“Sir, you feed me with thoughts!” Stephen exclaimed sadly.
“I am right glad,” said Langland; “I had been a churlish host to give thee but only beans.”
And his guest knew not whether to laugh or no.
At the gate of the palace Langland gave the squire good-day, and turned him back to London without further pause, and Stephen would have run after him to thank him for his courtesy, but there came down from the gate-house a half score of young gentlemen that fell upon the squire with shout and laughter, and when he had set himself free, the priest was past the turn of the road.
“Ho, ho,—Etienne! So thou art not eaten up of John of Gaunt?”
“What adventure?”
“Here 's a half ell o' mud on thy hosen.”
“What adventure?”
“The Prince kept the dinner cold an hour.”
“The Prince would not eat a morsel.”