Yet he was shabbily clad; his face was sombre; there seemed little
occasion for alarm. There seemed none when he began to speak.
"Sir Abbot," he said, "I come to hold my day."
"Hast thou brought my pay?" asked the abbot.
"Not one penny," answered the knight.
"Thou art a shrewd debtor," declared the abbot, with a look of
satisfaction. "Sir Justice, drink to me. What brings you here then,
sirrah, if you fetch no money?"
"To pray your grace for a longer day," said Sir Richard, humbly.
"Your day is ended; not an hour more do you get," cried the abbot.
Sir Richard now appealed to the justice for relief, and after him to the
sheriff, but to both in vain. Then, turning to the abbot again, he
offered to be his servant, and work for him till the four hundred pounds
were earned, if he would take pity on him.
This appeal was lost on the merciless churchman. In the end hot words
passed, and the abbot angrily exclaimed,--
"Out of my hall, thou false knight! Speed thee out, sirrah!"
"Abbot, thou liest, I was never false to my word," said Sir Richard,
proudly. "You lack courtesy, to suffer a knight to kneel and beg so
long. I am a true knight and a true man, as all who have seen me in
tournament or battle will say.
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