“Beshrew your meddlesome temper!” cried the abbot. “You are always crossing me! But I have with me the Lord Chief Justice, and he will declare my legal right.” Just at that moment the high cellarer of the abbey entered to congratulate the abbot on Sir Richard’s absence. “He is dead or ill, and we shall have the spending of four hundred pounds a year,” quoth he.
Sir Richard Returns
On his arrival Sir Richard had quietly gone round to his old tenants in York, and had a goodly company of them ready to ride with him, but he was minded to test the charity and true religion of the abbot, and bade his followers assume pilgrims’ robes. Thus attired, the company rode to the abbey gate, where the porter recognised Sir Richard, and the news of his coming, carried to the abbot and justice, caused them great grief; but the prior rejoiced, hoping that a cruel injustice would be prevented. As they dismounted the porter loudly called grooms to lead the horses into the stable and have them relieved of their burdens, but Sir Richard would not allow it, and left Little John to watch over them at the abbey portal.
The Abbot and Sir Richard
Then Sir Richard came humbly into the hall, where a great banquet was in progress, and knelt down in courteous salutation to the abbot and his guests; but the prelate, who had made up his mind what conduct to adopt, greeted him coldly, and many men did not return his salutation at all. Sir Richard spoke aloud: “Rejoice, Sir Abbot, for I am come to keep my day.” “That is well,” replied the monk, “but hast thou brought the money?” “No money have I, not one penny,” continued Sir Richard sadly. “Pledge me in good red wine, Sir Justice,” cried the abbot callously; “the land is mine. And what dost thou here, Sir Richard, a broken man, with no money to pay thy debt?” “I am come to beg you to grant me a longer time for repayment.” “Not one minute past the appointed hour,” said the exultant prelate. “Thou hast broken pledge, and thy land is forfeit.”
“Sir Richard knelt in courteous salutation”
Sir Richard Implores the Justice
Still kneeling, Sir Richard turned to the justice and said: “Good Sir Justice, be my friend and plead for me.” “No,” he replied, “I hold to the law, and can give thee no help.” “Gentle abbot, have pity on me, and let me have my land again, and I will be the humble servant of your monastery till I have repaid in full your four hundred pounds.” Then the cruel prelate swore a terrible oath that never should the knight have his land again, and no one in the hall would speak for him, kneeling there poor, friendless, and alone; so at last he began to threaten violence. “Unless I have my land again,” quoth he, “some of you here shall dearly abide it. Now may I see the poor man has no friends, for none will stand by me in my need.”