six o’clock in the evening
Whom did I meet on the path under the ivy , this plant of eternity , which only knows of death and birth , but not the changes of the seasons ? I met the last survivor of the great days , of the Emperor 's Round Table , Thiodolf the Goth , now Bishop of Orleans . I can not describe to you my joy at meeting him again , nor depict my feelings when I read in the face of the old man the whole history of our life . It was six o'clock in the evening , and after we had sung Vespers , our fast was at an end . I had a large round table placed in the refectory , only for us two , but with twelve chairs and twelve places laid . From the Bishop 's guest-room I had the largest armchair brought , and decorated it with leaves and flowers ; it was that of the Emperor of blessed memory , who now rests in the cathedral at Aachen , the cathedral which I had the favour and honour of building . The other chairs I assigned to absent friends , first Alcuin , then the poet Angilbert-Homerus , the Irishman Clement , the Bavarian Leidrade , and others whom you knew , but have forgotten .