This very morrow shall he be installed in his
princely dignity in due and ancient form. Take instant order for it, my
lord Hertford."
One of the nobles knelt at the royal couch, and said--
"The King's majesty knoweth that the Hereditary Great Marshal of England
lieth attainted in the Tower. It were not meet that one attainted--"
"Peace! Insult not mine ears with his hated name. Is this man to live
for ever? Am I to be baulked of my will? Is the prince to tarry
uninstalled, because, forsooth, the realm lacketh an Earl Marshal free of
treasonable taint to invest him with his honours? No, by the splendour of
God! Warn my Parliament to bring me Norfolk's doom before the sun rise
again, else shall they answer for it grievously!" {1}
Lord Hertford said--
"The King's will is law;" and, rising, returned to his former place.
Gradually the wrath faded out of the old King's face, and he said--
"Kiss me, my prince. There . . . what fearest thou? Am I not thy loving
father?"
"Thou art good to me that am unworthy, O mighty and gracious lord: that
in truth I know. But--but--it grieveth me to think of him that is to
die, and--"
"Ah, 'tis like thee, 'tis like thee! I know thy heart is still the same,
even though thy mind hath suffered hurt, for thou wert ever of a gentle
spirit. But this duke standeth between thee and thine honours: I will
have another in his stead that shall bring no taint to his great office.
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