The Last Of The Barons, Volume 4.

ded, and was on his way to London. The citizens, led by Rivers partially to suspect the object of the visit, were delighted not only by the prospect of a brilliant pageant, but by th

astings made no secret of his distaste to the Count de la Roche's visit, it became his office as lord ch

Montagu, Rivers, D'Eyncourt, St. John, Raoul de Fulke, and others. But at the threshold of the chamber stood Anthony Woodville, the knightly challenger, his knee bound by the ladye-badge of the S. S., and his fine person clad in white-flowered velvet of Genoa, adorned with pearls. Stepping forward, as the count appeared, the gallant Englishman bent

did not affect to conceal the admiration which the remarkable presence of Edward never failed to excite; lifting his hand to his eyes, as if to shade

asted a lord like thee, from whom we might ask such homage. But since thou art not our subject, it consoles us at least that thou art our guest. By our halidam

hony, who fights under the eyes of such a king, will prove invincible. Did kings enter t

e to encounter, even though Charlemagne himself were to revive with his twelve paladins at his back. Tell us, Sir Count," added the king, drawing

e, but your Grace is taller by half the head,-and, peradventure, of even a more stalwart build;

rest gentleman of Europe. My Lord Scales, we must here publicly crave your pardon. Our brother-in-law, Sir Count, would fain have claimed his right to hold you his guest, and have graced himself by exclusive service to your person. We have taken from him his lawful office, for we kings are jealous, and would not have our subjects more

mpanied by Hastings. Edward then, singling Anthony Woodville and Lord Rivers from th

alm habitual to it, turned to the Duke of Clarence, and observed indif

nd drawing Montagu aside. "I would wager my best greyhound to a sc

. What matters whose lance brea

ontagu-you who are so peerless in

this pageant hath been devised by the Woodvilles to mortify and

gered at this pastime. For, look you, Montagu, I, thinking only of my hate to Burgundy and my zeal for our English honour,

t irony, "I crave your pardon humbly for my vehemence, Prince of Clarence. I suddenly remember me that humility is the proper virtue of knighthood. Your Grace does indeed set a notable exam

e, falteringly; "in honour of the fairest maid of all-

or our poor and insulted House of Nevile so far as to be assured that the name of my

reak no lance

d was striding to the outer gate of the Tower, when a sweet, clear voice behind him called him by hi

weakness in him that moved even me. But you have not now to learn that his nature, how excellent soever, is somewhat unsteady. His judgment alone lacks weight and substance,-ever persuaded ag

uthful candour, so all-acknowledged, will permit), the kinsmen of the queen do now so aspire to rule this land, to marry or forbid to marry, not only our own children, but your illustrious father's, that I foresee in this visit of the bastard Anthony the most signa

d listened more to me and less to the queen's kith! These Woodvilles!-and yet they may live to move not wrath but pity. If

nt the throne that our

u, sul

t the commons would, that the Church must, pronounce the unhappy truth, th

your Highne

king was betrothed before to the Lady Eleanor Talbot; that such betrothal, not set aside by the Pope, renders his marriage with Elizabeth against law;

thoughtfully; "and i

e crown, and his child

it could not be so; for, however clear the claim, strong and powerful would be those who would resist it, and Clarence is not, as you will

abashed, before that steady, deep, unrevealing gaze, which seemed

gu, how deep an interest I have in maintaining all amity between Lord Warwick and the king. For methinks there is one face fairer than fair Isabel's, and one man more to be envied than even Clarence. Fairest face to me in the wide world is the Lady Anne's! happi

to which one part of Gloucester's address had thrown him-"does not y

in his absence forgot the reverence due to loyalty and merit. Tell him that; and if I seem (unlike Clarence) to forbear to conf

corn upon his young brow. One of the most remarkable social characteristics of the middle ages is the prematurity at which the great arrived at manhood, shared in its passions, and indulged its ambitions. Among the numerous instances in our own and other countries that might be selected from history, few are more striking than that of this Duke of Gloucester, great in camp and in council at an age when nowadays a youth is scarcely trusted to the discipline of a college. The whole of his portentous career was closed, indeed, before

ver pleased; though not absolutely of the rigid austerity of Amadis or our Saxon Edward, he was comparatively free from the licentiousness of his times. His passions were too large for frivolous excitements. Already the Italian, or, as it is falsely called, the Machiavelian policy, was pervading the intellect of Europe, and the effects of its ruthless, grand, and deliberate statecraft are visible from the accession of Edward IV. till the close of Elizabeth's reign. With this policy, which reconciled itself to crime as a necessity of wisdom, was often blended a refinement of character which disdained vulgar vices. Not skilled alone in those knightly accomplishments which induced Caxton, with

dy, entering the garden from the palace, passed by him so hastily that she brushed his surcoat, and, turn

brought me into this garden,-and that was the ho

superb countenance and haughty carriage evinced no

duke, laying his hand on her arm, "mir

Richard Plantagenet is not one of the W

of a moment. Mirth cannot tarnish glory,-

ye, the same quick quiver of the lip, speaking of nervous susceptibility and haste of mood. The hateful fashion of that day which pervaded all ranks, from the highest to the lowest, was the prodigal use of paints and cosmetics, and all imaginable artificial adjuncts of a spurious beauty. This extended often even to the men, and the sturdiest warrior deemed it no shame to recur to such arts of the toilet as the vainest wanton in our day would never venture to acknowledge. But the Lady Bonville, proudly confident of her beauty, and possessing a purity of mind that revolted from the littleness of courting admiration, contrasted forcibly in this the ladies of the court. Her cheek was of a marble whiteness, though occasionally a rising flush through the clear, rich, transparent skin showed that in earlier youth the virgin bloom had not been absent from the surface. There was in her features, when they repose

with her bright, thankful smile; "and a

," said Richard, meaningly. "Nay, chide me not with that lofty look;

he right to dispose of the hands of the daughte

spoke, and a tear for a momen

my secret. I would be your nephew. Boy though I be in years, my

lantagenet honours eve

hus my friend, intercede with Warwick, if he ange

en himself and his passions. But what then? Grant him wronged, ag

some surprise at

se of York?-Marry, yes

hom else should he p

give the Lancas

ce. "I love him as a woman of his House must love the hero who forms its proudest boast. But if, for any personal grudge, any low ambition, any rash humour, the son of my father Salisbury could forget that Margaret of Anjou placed t

nville, lifted it to his lips, and saying, "May fortune one day permit me to face as the earl's son the earl's foes," made his graceful reverence, glided from the garden, gained his barge, and was r

to the rising sun of the Woodvilles. There, collected into a puissance whose discontent hard sufficed to shake a firmer throne (the young Raoul de Fulke, the idolater of Warwick, the impersonation in himself of the old Norman seignorie, in their centre), with folded arms and lowering brows, stood the earl's kinsmen, the Lords Fitzhugh and Fauconberg: with them, Thomas Lord Stanley, a prudent noble, who rarely sided with a malcontent, and the Lord St. John, and the heir of the ancient Bergavennies, and many another chief, under whose banner marched an army. Richard of Gloucester

sarcastically, "the Count de la Roche is,

nnot refuse, and which Willi

wick to consider amongst their duties a

brow and a flushed cheek,-"neither Montagu nor Warwick had, wit

med it dishonouring in a brave soldier, a well-born gentleman (now from his valiantness, merit, and wisdom become a puissant and dreaded lord), to sink into that lackeydom and varletaille which falsehood and cringing have stablishe

gratitude, that rather than fret the pile of their pride, I should throw down the scaffolding on which my fearless step hath clomb to as fair a height, and one perhaps that may overlook as long a posterity, as the best baron that ever quartered the Raven Eagle and the Dun Bull. But," resumed Hastings, with a withering sa

ust not presume so overmuch on my seignorie. The king would keep me,-he would indeed, sirs; um-um-why, Katherine-dame-thy stiff gorget makes me ashamed of thee. Thou wouldst not think, Lord Hastings, that Katherine had a white skin,-a parlous white skin. La, you now, fie on these mufflers!" The courtiers sneered; Hastings, with a look of malignant and pitiless triumph, eyed the Lady of Bonville. For a moment the colour went and came across her transp

rose and the fleur de lis; either side lined by the bearers of the many banners of Edward, displaying the white lion of March, the black bull of Clare, the cross of Jerusalem, the dragon of Arragon, and the rising sun, which he had assumed as his peculiar war-badge since the battle of Mortimer's Cross. Again, and louder, came the flourish of music; and a murmur through the crowd, succeeded by deep silence, announced the entrance of the king. He appear

n jewels and cloth-of-gold, shone royally, begirt by the ladies of her brillian

we nevertheless wish all ill-fortune,-for we cannot desire that he may subdu

nded to him. Then rising, and gazing full and even boldly upon the young Princess Margaret, he added, "I hav

id the queen; "we knew not t

it was done

e have yo

the Count of Charolois!" answered

e impression his words had made to take their due effect, addressed himself, wi

was very proud. Edward, offering his hand to his queen, led the way, and the Duchess of Bedford, directing the count to Margar

ed along, "what thrones would not Charolois resign for

"the Count of Charolois is a lord who, if r

ed to his love! Ah, poor lord and brother, what new reasons for etern

the crowning banquet of the night. And far more luxurious and more splendid than might be deemed by those who read but the general histories of that sanguinary time, or the inventories of furniture in the houses even of the great barons, was the accommodation which Edward afforded to his guest. His apartments and chambers were hung wit

e count; and, the more to bear him company, afterwards undressed himself a

eign to instruct my ignorance of a court which I would fain know well, and let me weet whether the splendour of your king, far

py fortune to be the wealthiest proprietor in England, except the Earl of Warwic

was filled rose in a cloud over his long hair,-"ill would fare that subject, in most lands, who was as we

dor to win grace of hi

race of Louis whom

is so strong and so frank, that it is as hard

ount, pettishly, and he with

Lord Scales entered with a superb gown, clasped with jewels, and lined with minever, with which Edward had commissioned him to present the Bastard. In this robe the Lord Scales insisted upon enduing his antagonist with his own hands, a

ony Woodville, while, entirely filling one side of the hall, the ladies of the cour

s rivalled only by the more majestic grace of Edward and the dainty steps of Anthony Woodville. But the lightest and happiest hea

ong the "new men," Warwick always treated with generous respect, as a wise patriot and a fearless soldier; and in the more frivolous scenes of courtly life, the same mind raised one no longer in the bloom of youth, with no striking advantages of person, and studiously disdainful of all the fopperies of the time, to an equality with the youngest, the fairest, the gaudiest courtier, in that rivalship which has pleasure for its object and love for its reward. Many a heart beat quicker as the graceful courtier, with that careless wit which veiled his profound mournfulness of character, or with that delicate flattery which his very contempt for human nature had taught him, moved from dame to donzell; till at length, in the sight and hearing of the Lady Bonville, as she sat, seemingly heedless of his revenge, amidst a group of matrons elder than herself, a murmur of admiration made him turn quickly, and his eye, following the gaze of the bystanders, rested upon the sweet, animated

Bedford, Sibyll was left to herself, not even amidst her happy visions did the daughter forget her office. She stole into her father's chamber. He, too, was astir and up,-at work at the untiring furnace, the damps on his brow, but all Hope's vigour a