How Sir John visited Master Hermit: and found him in contemplation

  _Protexit me in abscondito tabernaculi sui._

  He hath protected me in the secret place of His tabernacle.--Ps. xxvi. 5.

  I

  [The Ms. begins abruptly at the top of the page.]

  ... It was at vespers on the fourth day afterwards, being CorpusChristi, that saint Giles, as I suppose, moved me to visit MasterRichard. So I put on my cap again, and took my furred gown, for Ithought it would be cold before I came home; and set out through thewood. I was greatly encouraged by the beauty of the light as I wentdown; the sun shone through the hazels on my right, and the roof ofleaves was a fair green over my head; and to right and left lay a carpetof flowers as blue as the Flanders' glass above the altar. I had learntfrom Master Richard, though he was thirty years my younger, manybeautiful lessons, and one of them that God's Majesty speaks to us bythe works of His almighty hands. So when I saw the green light and thegold and the blue, and the little flies that made merry in the way, Itook courage.

  At the lower end of the wood, as you know, the path falls down steeplytowards the stream, and when it has left the wood there are meadows toright and left, that were bright with yellow flowers at this time. Infront the stream runs across the road under hazels, and where the chapelis still a-building over his body, on the left side, with its backagainst the wood stood his little house.

  I will tell you of all this, as I saw it then; for the pilgrims havetrampled it all about now, and the stream is all befouled and the banksbroken, and the trees cut down by the masons that came to make thesecond chapel where Master Richard was wont to bathe himself, againstthe fiend's temptations at first, and afterwards for cleanness' sake,too--(for I never heard of a hermit as cleanly as was this young man,soon, and in spite of his washings, by the prayers of our Lady and saintGiles, to be declared among the blessed servants of God.)

  The meadow was a fair circle of grass; with trees on every side but onthis where the gate stood. It sloped to the stream that ran shallow overthe stones, and down across it from the cell to the pool lay the pathtrampled hard by Master Richard's feet; for he had lived there fouryears at this time since his coming from Cambridge. Besides this paththere was another that circled the meadow, and it was on this that hewalked with God. I have seen him there sometimes from the gate, with hishands clasped, fingers to fingers, and his eyes open but seeing nothing;and if it had not been for the sin in my soul (on which God have pity!)I might have seen, too, the heavenly company that often went with himand of which he told me.

  Before the hut lay a long garden-bed, in which the holy youth grew beansin their season, and other vegetables at other times; for it was onthese, with nuts from the hazelwood, and grasses of which I know not thenames (though he has told me of them many times), with water from thestream, that he sustained his life.

  On either side of the hut stood a great may-tree; it was on account ofthese that he had built his little house here, for he knew theproperties and divine significations of such things.

  The house itself was of wattles, plastered with mud from the brook, andthatched with straw. There was a door of wood that he leaned against theopening on this side when he prayed, but not when he slept, and a littlesquare window high up upon the other side that looked into the greenwood. It is of that same door that saint Giles' new altar was made, forthe house fell down after his going, and the wind blew about the mud andthe sticks, and the pilgrims have now carried all away. I took the doormyself, when I came back and had seen him go through the heavenly doorto our Lord.

  The house within was a circle, three strides across, with a domed rooflike a bee-hive as high as a man at the sides and half as high again inthe centre. On the left lay his straw for a bed, and above it on thewall the little square of linen that he took afterwards with him toLondon, worked with the five precious wounds of our Saviour. On theright hand side was a wooden stool where he sat sometimes to pray and onthe wall against it a little press that held some bottles within, and inanother shelf some holy relics that are now in the church, and inanother his six books; and above, upon the top, a little cross with ourLord upon it, very rude; for he said that the eyes of the soul shouldnot be hindered by the eyes of the body, and that our Lord showedHimself often to him more clearly and truly than a craftsman could makeHim. Above the window was a little figure of the Mother of God, setthere, he told me, above the sight of the green wood, because she wasthe mother of all living, and had restored what Eve had spoiled.

  I cannot tell you, my children, of the peace of this place. The littlehouse, and indeed the whole circle of the meadow set about with trees,was always to me as a mansion in paradise. There were no sounds here butthe song of the birds and the running of the water and the wind in thetrees; and no sight of any other world but this, except in winter whenthe hill over against the hut showed itself through the branches notthree hundred paces away. On all other sides the woods rose to the sky.I think that the beasts knew the peace of the place. I have seen often astag unafraid watching Master Richard as he dug or walked on his path;the robins would follow him, and the little furry creatures sit roundhim with ears on end. And he told me, too, that never since he had cometo the place had blood fallen on the ground except his own when hescourged himself. The hunting-weasel never came here, though the conieswere abundant; the stags never fought here though there was a fairground for a battlefield. It was a peace that passed understanding, andwhat that peace is the apostle tells us.

  Here I came then on Corpus Christi evening, thirty years ago, as the sunwas near its setting behind the gate through which I came, and my shadowlay half-across the meadow before me.

  * * * * *

  It appeared to me that somewhat was amiss, but I knew not what it was: Iwas a little afraid. Master Richard was not to be seen, but his door waswide, so I thought he would not be praying. As I came up the path I sawsomething that astonished me. There was a circle of beasts about thehut, little conies that sat in the sunlight and shadow, without feeding,though it was the time for it; and as I came nearer I saw other beasts.There was a wild cat crouched in the shadow of the hazels moving histail from side to side; a stag with his two does stood beneath abeech-tree, and a boar looked over the bank against which stood the hut.

  They did not move as I came up and looked in at the door.

  This is what I saw within.

  The holy youth was seated on his stool with his hands gripping the sidesand his eyes open, and he was looking towards the image of our Saviouron the right-hand side.

  You have seen his holy and uncorrupt body, but in life he was differentto that. He was not above twenty years old at this time, and of a beautythat drew men's eyes to him. [This is the exact phrase used of RichardRolle, hermit of Hampole.] His hair was as you know it; a straight,tawny, nut-brown head of hair that fell to his shoulders; and he had thecleanest line of face that ever I have seen.

  His hair came low upon his straight forehead; his nose was straight,with fine nostrils; he had a little upper lip on which grew no hair, afull lip beneath very short, and a round cleft chin; his eyebrows weredark and arched; his whole face smooth and thin, and of an extraordinaryclean paleness; he had a curved throat turned to a pale brown by thesun, though the colour of his body, I have heard it said, was as whiteas milk. He was dressed always in a white kirtle beneath, and a brownsleeveless frock over it of the colour of his hair, that came to hisankles, and was girt with a leather band. He went barefoot, but carrieda great hat on his shoulders when he walked. He moved slowly at suchtimes, and bore himself upright. His hands were fine and slender, andwere burned brown like his face and his throat.

  I tell you that I have never seen such a wonderful beauty in mortal man;and his soul was yet more lovely. It is no wonder that God's Majestydelighted in him, and that the saints came to walk with him. He waslike neither man nor woman. He had the grey eyes of a woman, the mouthand chin of a man, the hands of a matron, and the figure
of a strongvirgin. I was always a little man, as you know, and when I walked withhim, as I did sometimes, the top of my cap came just beneath his ear.

  Master Richard, as I have said, was seated now on his stool, with hisknees together, and his hands gripping the sides of his seat. His chinwas a little thrust out, and he was as still as a stock. This I knew,was the manner in which sometimes he entered into strong contemplation;and I knew, too, that he would neither hear me nor see me till he moved.So I watched him a moment or two, and I grew yet more afraid as Iwatched; for this is what I saw:

  Down from his temples across his cheeks ran little drops of sweat on tohis brown frock, and that though it was a cool evening, and his spadewas hung on its peg beneath the window. (It was the spade that you haveseen in the church with a cross-handle polished by his holy hands.)

  I looked for a while, and I grew yet more afraid. It seemed to me thatthere was somewhat in the cell that I could not see. I looked up at thewindow but there was nothing there but the still green hazel leaves; Ilooked at his bed, at the smooth mud walls and floor, at the domed roof,and, through the hole in the centre, where the smoke escaped when hemade a fire, I could see leaves again and the evening sky. Yet the placewas full of something; there was something of energy or conflict, I knewnot which: some person was striving there.

  Then I was suddenly so much afraid that I dared not stay, and I wentback again along the path, and walked at the lower end of the meadowbeside the stream.