Edward looked grave.
"If thou wert, my poor Will, thou wouldst lose all the fame for shrewd wisdom which justifies thy sudden fortunes. No, no; thou art the flower and prince of my new seignorie,—thou must mate thyself with a name and a barony that shall be worthy thy fame and thy prospects. Love beauty, but marry power, Will. In vain would thy king draw thee up, if a despised wife draw thee down!"
Hastings listened with profound attention to these words. The king did not wait for his answer, but added laughingly,—
"It is thine own fault, crafty gallant, if thou dost not end all her spells."
"What ends the spells of youth and beauty, beau sire?"
"Possession!" replied the king, in a hollow and muttered voice.
Hastings was about to answer, when the door opened, and the officer in waiting announced the Duke of Clarence. "Ha!" said Edward, "George comes to importune me for leave to depart to the government of Ireland, and I have to make him weet that I think my Lord Worcester a safer viceroy of the two."
"Your Highness will pardon me; but, though I deemed you too generous in the appointment, it were dangerous now to annul it."
"More dangerous to confirm it. Elizabeth has caused me to see the folly of a grant made over the malmsey,—a wine, by the way, in which poor George swears he would be content to drown himself. Viceroy of Ireland! My father had that government, and once tasting the sweets of royalty, ceased to be a subject! No, no, Clarence—"
"Can never meditate treason against a brother's crown. Has he the wit or the energy or the genius for so desperate an ambition?"