'What a rough pelt, Fulke,' he says, 'like thy father's. God send thee a better inside to it, my boy. God make a man of thee.'
'He will never make me a great king, sire,' says Fulke.
'He can make thee better than that,' said his father.
'I think not,' answered Fulke. 'You are the greatest king in the whole world, sire. The Old Man of Musse said it.'
'Kiss me, Fulke,' said Richard. The boy put his face up quickly and kissed his father's lips. 'What a lover!' the King laughed; and Jehane said, 'He always kisses on the lips.' Richard sighed, suddenly tired; Fulke looked about, frightened at all the solemnity, and took his mother's hand. She gave him over to Des Barres, who led him away.
The King signed to Jehane to bend down her head. So she did, and even thus could barely hear him.
'I must die in peace if I can, sweet soul,' he muttered. They all saw that the end was not far off. 'Tell me what will become of thee when I am gone.' She stroked his cheek.
'I shall go back to my husband and children, dear one. I have left three behind me, all sons.'
'Are they good to thee? Art thou happy?'
'I am at peace with myself, wife of a wise old man; I love my children, and have the memory of thee, Richard. These will suffice me.'