“I was honoured with a seat at the Round Table on that ever-memorable occasion, your Highness,” observed the old Duke of Norfolk. “Seldom hath such a party assembled—not perhaps since the days of good King Arthur himself. Both your royal father and my late gracious master—whose soul God preserve!—played the boon companion, and bandied so many merry jests, that we could scarce contain ourselves for laughter. And yet they were nowise displeased, for state was banished from the Round Table, no one being able to say who sat above the other. On yonder wall, I mind me, was inscribed this distich in letters of gold:
‘Carolus, Henricus vivant; defensor uterque,
Henricus fidei, Carolus ecclesiæ.’”
“You describe an enviable banquet, my lord Duke,” replied Philip; “and I marvel not it lives in your memory. But you shall sit again at that board, and as my guest; and though I cannot hope to rival my father, or your late royal master, as a boon companion, I will put no constraint upon your mirth.”
The Duke of Norfolk bowed his thanks, and they quitted the hall. From the castle, Philip rode with his train to the Hospital of Saint Croix, with the beautiful and secluded situation of which he had been much struck as he approached Winchester. Passing through the ancient gateway, he dismounted in the court, where were drawn up the brotherhood in their long dark gowns, adorned with a silver cross—vestments and badges still retained by the fraternity. After examining the Hundred Men’s Hall, and noting the statue of Cardinal Beaufort in a niche in the upper part of the chamber, Philip proceeded to the venerable church, where he heard mass. Well pleased with his visit, he caused a piece of gold to be given to each of the brethren.
On quitting Saint Croix, the Prince did not return at once to Winchester, but crossing the valley, and fording the Itchen at a place pointed out to him by Osbert Clinton, who acted as his guide, he rode up Saint Catherine’s Hill. Good Father Jerome, who had watched the train ascending the mount, advanced to meet him. Courteously saluting the old priest, Philip put several questions to him respecting the chapel.
“Will it please your Highness to alight and view the reliques?” said Father Jerome.
Readily assenting, Philip dismounted, Osbert holding his bridle the while.
The Prince then entered the chapel with Father Jerome, leaving all his suite outside to contemplate the magnificent prospect of the city. His first act was to prostrate himself before the altar, and in this pious posture he remained for several minutes, fervently occupied in prayer.
“Apparently he is devout,” thought Father Jerome, as he stood behind him, with his hands meekly folded upon his breast. “And yet unholy passions rule his heart.”