Sir Thomas said, “_Amen_!” Master Silas was mute for the moment, but then quoth he, “I can say amen too in the proper place.”
The knight of Charlecote, who appeared to have been much taken with this conversation, then interrogated Willy:—
“What farther might have been thy discourse with the doctor? or did he discourse at all at trencher-time? Thou must have been very much abashed to sit down at table with one who weareth a pure lambskin across his shoulder, and moreover a pink hood.”
“Faith! was I, your honour! and could neither utter nor gulp.”
“These are good signs. Thou hast not lost all grace.”
“The learnedst clerk in Christendom! a very Friar Bacon! The Pope offered a hundred marks in Latin to who should eviscerate or evirate him,—poisons very potent, whereat the Italians are handy,—so apostolic and desperate a doctor is Doctor Glaston! so acute in his quiddities, and so resolute in his bearing! He knows the dark arts, but stands aloof from them. Prithee, what were his words unto thee?”
“Manna, sir, manna! pure from the desert!”
“Ay, but what spake he? for most sermons are that, and likewise many conversations after dinner.”
“He spake of the various races and qualities of men, as before stated; but chiefly on the elect and reprobate, and how to distinguish and know them.”
“He told me that by such discussion he should say enough to keep me constantly out of evil company.”
“See there! see there! and yet thou art come before me!—Can nothing warn thee?”
“I dare not dissemble, nor feign, nor hold aught back, although it be to my confusion. As well may I speak at once the whole truth for your worship could find it out if I abstained.”
“Ay, that I should indeed, and shortly. But, come now, I am sated of thy follies and roguish tricks, and yearn after the sound doctrine of that pious man. What expounded the grave Glaston upon signs and tokens whereby ye shall be known?”
“Wonderful things! things beyond belief! ‘There be certain men,’ quoth he—”
“He began well. This promises. But why canst not thou go on?”
“‘There be certain men, who, rubbing one corner of the eye, do see a peacock’s feather at the other, and even fire. We know, William, what that fire is, and whence it cometh. Those wicked men, William, all have their marks upon them, be it only a corn, or a wart, or a mole, or a hairy ear, or a toe-nail turned inward. Sufficient, and more than sufficient! He knoweth his own by less tokens. There is not one of them that doth not sweat at some secret sin committed, or some inclination toward it unsnaffled.