King Henry was alone in his study. He had spent a few hours in writing on a devout and edifying book, which he was preparing for his subjects, and which, in virtue of his dignity as supreme lord of the Church, he designed to commend to their reading instead of the Bible.
He now laid down his pen, and, with infinite complacency, looked over the written sheets, which were to be to his people a new proof of his paternal love and care, and so convince them that Henry the Eighth was not only the noblest and most virtuous of kings, but also the wisest.
But this reflection failed to make the king more cheerful to-day;perhaps because he had already indulged in it too frequently. To be alone, annoyed and disturbed him--there were in his breast so many secret and hidden voices, whose whispers he dreaded, and which, therefore, he sought to drown--there were so many recollections of blood, which ever and again rose before him, however often he tried to wash them out in fresh blood, and which the king was afraid of, though he assumed the appearance of never repenting, never feeling disquietude.
With hasty hand he touched the gold bell standing by him, and his face brightened as he saw the door open immediately, and Earl Douglas make his appearance on the threshold.
"Oh, at length!" said the lord, who had very well understood the expression of Henry's features; "at length, the king condescends to be gracious to his people.""I gracious?" asked the king, utterly astonished. "Well, how am Iso?""By your majesty's resting at length from his exertions, and giving a little thought to his valuable and needful health. When you remember, sire, that England's weal depends solely and alone on the weal of her king, and that you must be and remain healthy, that your people, likewise may be healthy."The king smiled with satisfaction. It never came into his head to doubt the earl's words. It seemed to him perfectly natural that the weal of his people depended on his person; but yet it was always a lofty and beautiful song, and he loved to have his courtiers repeat it.
The king, as we have said, smiled, but there was something unusual in that smile, which did not escape the earl.
"He is in the condition of a hungry anaconda," said Earl Douglas to himself. "He is on the watch for prey, and he will be bright and lively again just as soon as he has tasted a little human flesh and blood. Ah, luckily we are well supplied in that way. Therefore, we will render unto the king what is the king's. But we must be cautious and go to work warily."He approached the king and imprinted a kiss on his hand.
"I kiss this hand," said he, "which has been to-day the fountain through which the wisdom of the head has been poured forth on this blessed paper. I kiss this paper, which will announce and explain to happy England God's pure and unadulterated word; but yet I say let this suffice for the present, my king; take rest; remember awhile that you are not only a sage, but also a man.""Yes and truly a weak and decrepit one!" sighed the king, as with difficulty he essayed to rise, and in so doing leaned so heavily and the earl's arm that he almost broke down under the monstrous load.
"Decrepit!" said Earl Douglas, reproachfully. "Your majesty moves to-day with as much ease and ******* as a youth, and my arm was by no means needed to help you up.""Nevertheless, we are growing old!" said the king, who, from his weariness, was unusually sentimental and low-spirited to-day.
"Old!" repeated Earl Douglas. "Old, with those eyes darting fire, and that lofty brow, and that face, in every feature so noble! No, your majesty, kings have this in common with the gods--they never grow old.""And therein they resemble parrots to a hair!" said John Heywood, who just then entered the room. "I own a parrot which my great-grandfather inherited from his great-grandfather, who was hair-dresser to Henry the Fourth, and which to-day still sings with the same volubility as he did a hundred years ago: 'Long live the king!
long live this paragon of virtue, sweetness, beauty, and mercy! Long live the king!' He has cried this for hundreds of years, and he has repeated it for Henry the Fifth and Henry the Sixth, for Henry the Seventh and Henry the Eighth! And wonderful, the kings have changed, but the song of praise has always been appropriate, and has ever been only the ****** truth! Just like yours, my Lord Douglas! Your majesty may depend upon it, he speaks the truth, for he is near akin to my parrot, which always calls him 'My cousin,' and has taught him his immortal song of praise to kings."The king laughed, while Earl Douglas cast at John Heywood a sharp, spiteful look.
"He is an impudent imp, is he not, Douglas?" said the king.
"He is a fool!" replied he, with a shrug.
"Exactly, and therefore I just now told you the truth. For you know children and fools speak the truth. And I became a fool just on this account, that the king, whom you all deceive by your lies, may have about him some creature, besides his looking-glass, to tell him the truth.""Well, and what truth will you serve up for me today?""It is already served, your majesty. So lay aside for a little your regal crown and your high priesthood, and conclude to be for awhile a carnivorous beast. It is very easy to become a king. For that, nothing more is necessary than to be born of a queen under a canopy.
But it is very difficult to be a man who has a good digestion. It requires a healthy stomach and a light conscience. Come, King Henry, and let us see whether you are not merely a king, but also a man that has a good stomach." And with a merry laugh he took the king's other arm and led him with the earl into the dining-room.
