"Well, now for your tidings then," said Boyd, when the man had drunk.
"Which will you have first?" demanded the piper, "news from the court, the castle, or the field?"
"It matters not," said Boyd. "Shake them out of the bag, Sam, as they come."
"Well then, from the court," said Sam. "It should have the place of honour, though there is but little honour in it. Well, the king is mighty wroth to hear that the Earl of Richmond has put to sea with a fleet and army to invade England. He laughed, they say, when he was told thereof; and, when he laughs, 'tis sure that he is angry."
"But is Richmond on the sea?" asked the woodman. "I doubt it."
"Nay, I speak but what men tell me," answered Sam. "They say he is on the sea with a great power. Many men refuse to pay the benevolence too, and declare it is an exaction against the law. All this makes Richard angry; and he rages at trifles like a mad bear, when the dogs have got him by the muzzle."
"He'll need a bear-ward, soon," said Boyd; "and he may get one."
"Men say he is insane," continued Sam, "and that his brain has never been right since his son died at Middleham. However, the queen's funeral was as glorious as could be; and Richard wept a basin full, I am told. But yet men have cried more over a raw onion, and never felt it much at heart."
"Well, well, what is all this to me?" asked Boyd, impatiently. "The queen is dead and buried. God rest her soul! It had little rest here, since she married the murderer of her husband. The king might love her, or might not, may grieve for her, or not. What is all that to me? She was not my wife;" and, seating himself on the bench, he bent his eyes thoughtfully upon the ground.
"Well then, my court news is told," said Sam. "Now for my country gossip. Know you, good man Boyd, that the Lord Chartley, whom you and I had to do with a good many months ago, when they burned the houses on the abbey green, is back at Tamworth?"