kneeling to the Blessed Virgin. On the standard, my master, later,
fashioned the chosen blazon of the Maid--a dove argent, on a field azure.
But the blazon of the sword supporting the crown, between two lilies,
that was later given to her and her house, she did not use, as her
enemies said she did, out of pride and vainglory, mixing her arms with
holy things, even at Rheims at the sacring. For when she was at Rheims,
no armorial bearings had yet been given to her. Herein, then, as always,
they lied in their cruel throats; for, as the Psalmist says, "Quare
fremuerunt gentes?"

All these evil tongues, and all thought of evil days, were far from us as
we stood looking at the work, and praising it, as well we might, for
never had my master wrought so well. Now, as I studied on the paintings,
I well saw that my master had drawn the angel of the pennon in the
likeness of his own daughter Elliot. Wonderful it was to see her fair
face and blue eyes, holy and humble, with the gold halo round her head.

"Ah, love," I said, "that banner I could follow far, pursuing fame and
the face of my lady!"

With that we fell into such dalliance and kind speech as lovers use,
wholly rapt from the world in our happiness.

Even then, before we so much as heard his step at the door, my master
entered, and there stood we, my arm about her neck and hers about my
body, embracing me.

He stood with eyes wide open, and gave one long whistle.

"Faith!" he cried, "our surgery hath wrought miracles! You are whole