“But the Pope, my noble friend,”⁠—said Cedric⁠—

“But the devil, my noble friend,”⁠—answered Athelstane; “they die, and no more of them. Were they the best monks upon earth, the world would go on without them.”

“For shame, noble Athelstane,” said Cedric; “forget such wretches in the career of glory which lies open before thee. Tell this Norman prince, Richard of Anjou , that, lionhearted as he is, he shall not hold undisputed the throne of Alfred, while a male descendant of the Holy Confessor lives to dispute it.”

“How!” said Athelstane, “is this the noble King Richard?”

“It is Richard Plantagenet himself,” said Cedric; “yet I need not remind thee that, coming hither a guest of free-will, he may neither be injured nor detained prisoner⁠—thou well knowest thy duty to him as his host.”