Sira Viliam.
The candles are lighted——
Master Sigard.
[Stops him by a sign, and approaches the Bishop.] How goes it with you, my lord?
Bishop Nicholas.
So-so—so-so; my hands and feet are cold.
Master Sigard.
[Half aloud, as he moves the brazier nearer.] Ha—’tis the beginning of the end.
Bishop Nicholas.
[Apprehensively, to Viliam.] I have commanded that eight monks shall chant and pray for me in the chapel to-night. Have an eye to them; there are idle fellows among them.