"But I do not think them so," said Master Richard.

"Think as you will then, Master Hermit; but, you know, when folks are
sick we may tell them anything without sin. And the King is sick to
death. I do not believe that you have bewitched him: you have too good a
face and air for that--and for the matter of the _paternoster_ I do not
value it at a straw. The King is sick with agony at what he thinks will
come upon him after your words. He will not listen to my lord cardinal:
he sits silent and terrified, and has taken no food to-day. But if you
will but tell him, Master Hermit, that you were mistaken in your
tidings--that it was but a fancy, and that you know better now--all will
be well with him and with you, and with us all who love you both."

So the clerk spoke, tempting him, and leaned back again on his heels;
and Master Richard lay a great while silent.

* * * * *

Now, I do not know who was this young man, whether he were a clerk or
whether he were not a devil in form of a man. I could hear nothing of
him at Court when I went there. It may be that he was one of those idle
fellows that had come to Master Richard from time to time to ask him to
make them hermits with him, else how did he know the matters of the stag
and the pig and the stream and the rest? But it does not greatly matter
whether his soul were a devil's or a man's, for in any case his words
were Satan's. If I had not heard what came after I should have believed
this temptation to be the most subtle ever devised in hell and permitted
from heaven. He spoke so tenderly and so sweetly; he commanded his
features so perfectly; he seemed to speak with such love and
reasonableness.