Ah! my poor brother, a crown is an awful head-gear.

While yet time, why not both seek some quiet convent, and put away these earthly cares ?" William smiled and shook his head.

"Nay, holy Edward, from all I have seen of convents, it is a dream to think that the monk's serge hides a calmer breast than the warrior's mail, or the king's ermine.

Now give me thy benison, for I go." He knelt as he spoke, and Edward bent his hands over his head, and blessed him.

Then, taking from his own neck a collar of zimmes (jewels and uncut gems), of great price, the King threw it over the broad throat bent before him, and rising, clapped his hands.