a man's nod, and a leopard can so be beguiled. A leopard is sleek as a
cat and pleased by stroking; like a cat he will scratch his friend on
occasion. Yet again, he has a dog's intrepidity, knows no fear, is
single-purposed, not to be called off, longanimous. But the cat in him
makes him wary, tempts him to treacherous dealing, keeps him apart from
counsels, advises him to keep his own. So the leopard is a lonely
beast.' This is interesting, and may be true. But mark him as he goes
on.

'I knew the man, my dear master and a great king, who brought the
leopards into the shield of England, more proper to do it than his
father, being more the thing he signified. Of him, therefore, torn by
two natures, cast in two moulds, sport of two fates; the hymned and
reviled, the loved and loathed, spendthrift and a miser, king and a
beggar, the bond and the free, god and man; of King Richard Yea-and-Nay,
so made, so called, and by that unmade, I thus prepare my account.'

So far the abbot with much learning and no little verbosity casts his
net. He has the weakness of his age, you observe, and must begin at the
beginning; but this is not our custom. Something of Time is behind us;
we are conscious of a world replete, and may assume that we have
digested part of it. Milo, indeed, like all candid chroniclers, has his
value. He is excellent upon himself, a good relish with your meal.
However, as we are concerned with King Richard, you shall dip into his
bag for refreshment, but must leave the victualling to me.




CHAPTER I