But his father, who was still in his study, heard the sound of her hoofs in the paved yard, and met him as he led her out on the road, with an inquiry as to his destination at such an hour.

Richard told him that he had had a quarrel with a certain young fellow of the name of Scudamore, a page of the earl of Worcester, whom he had met at lady Vaughan's: and recounted the result.
'Was your quarrel a just one, my son ?' 'No sir.

I was in the wrong.' 'Then you are so far in the right now.

And you are going to help him home ?' 'Yes, sir.' 'Have you confessed yourself in the wrong ?' 'Yes, sir.' 'Then go, my son, but beware of private quarrel in such a season of strife.

This youth and thyself may meet some day in mortal conflict on the battle-field; and for my part--I know not how it may be with another--in such a case I would rather slay my friend than my enemy.' Enlightened by the inward experience of the moment, Richard was able to understand and respond to the feeling.