"I have heard a deal of scandal concerning the man.
But certainly I never heard that."
Katharine settled back, luxuriously, in the crotch of the apple-tree.
"Tell me about him."
Composedly he sat down upon the grass and began to acquaint her with
his knowledge and opinions concerning Henry, the fifth of that name to
reign in England, and the son of that squinting Harry of Derby about
whom I have told you so much before.
Katharine punctuated the harper's discourse with eager questionings,
which are not absolutely to our purpose. In the main, this harper
thought the man now buffeting France a just king, and he had heard,
when the crown was laid aside, Sire Henry was sufficiently jovial, and
even prankish. The harper educed anecdotes. He considered that the
King would manifestly take Rouen, which the insatiable man was now
besieging. Was the King in treaty for the hand of the Infanta of
Aragon? Yes, he undoubtedly was.
Katharine sighed her pity for this ill-starred woman. "And now tell me
about yourself."
He was, it appeared, Alain Maquedonnieux, a harper by vocation, and by
birth a native of Ireland.
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