“Press not my sister further, sire,” said Seymour. “See you not she meditated some jest at my expense, which the plain statement I have given has robbed of its point?” And he again looked sternly at Lady Hertford.
“Ah! is it so, dear aunt?” said Edward, laughing. “Confess you have failed.”
“That cannot be denied, sire,” replied the countess.
“Ill-success should ever attend the mischief-maker,” said Catherine.
“Nay, your Majesty is too severe,” rejoined Edward. “Our good aunt had no mischievous design in what she proposed.”
“So your Grace thinks, and it is well you should continue to think so,” returned the queen.
Any rejoinder by the countess to the queen-dowager’s imprudent sarcasm was prevented by Sir Thomas Seymour, who kept his eye steadily fixed on his sister-in-law.
At this juncture Xit stepped forward, and, with an obeisance, said, “Your Majesty came here to be surprised and diverted. ‘T were a pity you should be disappointed. Your amiable nature also delights in reconciling differences where any unfortunately exist. Will it please you to lay your commands upon the Countess of Hertford to give her hand to her grace the queen-dowager?”
“Sire!” exclaimed the countess, “you will not suffer this?”
“Nay, let it be so, good aunt,” interrupted the king. “The knave has some merry design which we would not spoil by a refusal.”
Thus enjoined, Lady Hertford very reluctantly advanced towards the queen. But Catherine drew herself up proudly and coldly, and repelled her by a look.
“So!—so!” cried Xit, with a comical look at the king. “Peradventure, we shall succeed better in the next attempt. Will your Majesty enjoin Sir Thomas Seymour to take the hand of the Lady Elizabeth’s Grace?”
“To what purpose?” demanded Edward.
“You will see, sire,” replied the dwarf.
“Dar’st thou jest with me, thou saucy knave?” exclaimed the princess, giving him a sound box on the ears.
“Pity so soft a hand should strike so shrewdly,” observed Xit, rubbing his cheek. “But I have not yet done, sire. For the last essay, I pray that Sir Thomas may be directed to give his hand to her Majesty the queen-dowager.”
“The command will be unavailing,” cried Catherine. “I will not suffer him to approach me.”
“The secret is out,” exclaimed Xit, triumphantly. “There has been a quarrel. This, then, was the pleasant surprise designed for your Majesty.”
“On my faith, I believe the cunning varlet is right,” said Edward.
“Thou givest thyself strange license, sirrah,” said Seymour to the dwarf; “but if thou takest any more such liberties with me, thine ears shall pay for thine impertinence.”
“One of them has paid for it already,” rejoined Xit, taking refuge behind the youthful monarch. “Mine ears are the king’s, and if your lordship deprives me of them you will do his majesty a wrong. Saving your presence, sire, you have been brought here on a fool’s errand, and it is for your faithful dwarf to bring you off with credit—as he hath done.”
“Wisdom sometimes proceeds from the lips of fools,” observed Edward; “and we have learnt more from thy folly than we might have done from our discernment. That some misunderstanding, exists is evident—whence originating we care not to inquire—but it must be set to rights. Come, good aunt,” to Lady Hertford, “you shall go back with us. As to you, gentle uncle,” he added, with a gracious smile, to Sir Thomas, “since neither the queen our mother, nor the princess our sister, seems to desire your company, we will relieve them of it, and will pray you to attend us in an inspection of our armory.”
Saluting the queen-dowager and Elizabeth, he quitted the chamber with Lady Hertford and Sir Thomas; the pages and henchmen, with Xit and Fowler, following him.
Sir Thomas Seymour remained for some time in attendance upon his royal nephew, and though by no means in a lively mood, he contrived to disguise his feelings so effectually, and conversed with such apparent gaiety and animation, that it was quite impossible to suspect he had any secret cause of uneasiness.
Accompanied by his uncle, the young king visited the Tower armory and examined the formidable store of military engines at that time collected within it—bombards, culverins, sakers, and falconets, with portable fire-arms, as harquebuses, demi-haques, and dags. Edward next turned his attention to the armor, noting the breastplates of the globose form then in use, with the cuisses, casques, and gauntlets. Swords of all shapes and sizes, from the huge two-handed blade to the beautiful damascened rapier, next underwent a careful inspection, with other offensive weapons then in use, as lances, battle-axes, partisans, and martels. While pointing out such of these implements as were most worthy of the young king’s notice, Seymour endeavored to profit by the occasion to inflame his breast with a love of military renown, and to a certain extent succeeded. Edward’s cheek glowed and his eye flashed as he listened to his uncle’s soldier-like details of certain incidents in the late war with France.