Henry O’Donell was a nobleman of great consequence in the city, and a peculiar favourite with the governor, before whose glance his stern mind would bow; and at his command O’Donell’s self-will would be overcome.
While playing with the young princes he would forget his usual sullenness of demeanour, the days of his childhood returned upon him, and he would be as merry as the youngest, who was gay indeed.
One day, at Court, a quarrel ensued between him and another noble. Words came to blows, and O’Donell struck his opponent a violent blow on the left cheek. At this the military King started up and commanded O’Donell to apologise. This he immediately did, but from that hour of dissent a spell seemed to have been cast over him, and he resolved to quit the city.
The evening before he put this resolution into practice he had an interview with the King, and returned quite an altered man. Before, he seemed stern and intractable; now, he was only meditative and sorrowful. As he was passing the inner court of the palace he perceived the two young princes at play. He called them, and they came running to him.
‘I am going far from this city, and shall, most likely, never see you again,’ said O’Donell.
‘Where are you going?’
‘I cannot tell.’
‘Then why do you go away from us? Why do you go from your own house and lands, from this great and splendid city, to you know not where?’
‘Because I am not happy here.’
‘And if you are not happy here, where you have everything for which you can wish, do you expect to be happy when you are dying of hunger or thirst in a desert, or longing for the society of men when you are thousands of miles from any human being?’