“Yea.”
“He hath beggared the people, this man. 'T was he gave leave to that thief Richard Lyons and the Lord Latimer to buy away all victual they might lay hand to. And then, what think you, did they give this to the poor? Nay! But they set it forth at such price that no poor man could buy. In the midst of plenty there was famine. 'T is several years gone now, yet I mind me how I sat in our lane and chewed the stems of the rank grass. Our neighbour had a little babe,—and she could not give it suck. So it died. Was no flesh o' the bones at all, only skin.”
Richard's eyes were fixed upon her face with horror. His little hands were cold.
“I hate mine uncle, John of Gaunt,” he said.
“Sweet Prince, waste no time hating. Christ the King, He hated no man, but He was Leech of Love. Learn thou of Him!”
“But I will not love mine uncle,” cried the child.
"Love the people! Love us poor! If Christ is King, and He our brother, art not thou likewise little brother to every man in England? Hearken to Holy Church in the Vision:—
'Wherefore is love leader of the lord's folk of heaven,'
"And this saith Reason, that counselleth the King:—
'If it were so
That I were King with crown to keep a realm,
Should never wrong in this world that I might know of,
Be unpunished in my power, for peril of my soul.'