"Nay, be not so hard on the poor knaves," said Sir Miles, for he knew it would be a hard matter for the serving men and maids to get other work in these days, when employment was so scarce.
It was men like this friend who would make the coming struggle so hard and bitter. And yet the man would do it, believing he was doing his duty to God and man by this means.
Sir Miles went back to Greenwich at last, feeling that he had learned a good deal during his absence. And yet affairs in general were in such a tangle, and so many cross interests were involved, that it was impossible to get a clear view, and the most that any man could hope for was to know what his individual duty was, and to do it regardless of consequences.
It may seem that it was an easy matter for Sir Miles to come to this conclusion, but in reality he had had a hard struggle with himself before he could resolve to keep on with the prosy, monotonous every-day work of his farm and tenantry, instead of throwing in his lot with those who would share actively in the struggle that was going on in the outer world. The lad who joined so eagerly in the fight at Oxford Fair was a fighter still, and it was not easy for him to think complacently of going back to his little domain near Woodstock, and only the thought of wife and children, and what he owed to them, reconciled him to the prospect of being shut away from all share in the great world-strife that was going on here.
But he went home to Greenwich full of plans for making the May-day sports a real holiday for the poorer folk of the town. The ladies and gentlemen of the Court might be trusted to provide ample amusement for the more fashionable crowd, who would go to see the morris-dancers and mummers, who were to have their fun in a more subdued fashion now than formerly.
This resolve to encourage all sorts of manly sports and exercise, brought him into contact with his brother-in-law, Master Walter Marvin, and he found him much more sociable than he expected; and, except upon the thorny subject of the King's supremacy, they were much alike in their opinions of men and things in general. He even consented to meet Lady Paton, although he could not quite forget that Cicely was a woman who had been unfaithful to her vows and her vocation, as he chose to consider it; still, as Lady Paton was his wife's sister, he could not keep entirely aloof at such a time, especially when her husband was ready to help in all his plans for keeping up the old sports among the men, and lads, and serving maids.
And so the last days of April passed pleasantly enough, except for one or two whispers which Sir Miles and Cicely heard concerning the Queen. She would have brought the King his much desired son shortly, but in the previous February she had been greatly upset by the King himself, which made her very ill; and her boy baby came, but was born dead, which so enraged Henry that it was said he would never forgive the Queen for disappointing him, quite ignoring the fact that he himself had brought about the mishap. The Queen had seemed weak and delicate ever since, but it was also noticed that the King, instead of trying to console her, paid marked attention to one of her ladies—the Lady Jane Seymour—and he was not expected to be present at the Palace of Placentia for the May-day sports. He had gone to Westminster, leaving the Queen to console herself with the little Lady Elizabeth, who was now nearly three years old.
Of course, the members of Sir Harry Guildford's family attended the Court festivities, which were held on one of the lawns facing the river. Here a gigantic Maypole was raised, garlanded with green boughs and wreaths of flowers, and round which various dances took place. The Queen came out for a short time, leading her little daughter, who skipped and jumped, and would have joined in the dances round the gaily decorated Maypole if her mother would have allowed it.
"That little lady is a true daughter of our King," remarked one of the town folk—for the gardens and lawns of Placentia were always thrown open at such festivals as this. "See now, how she pulls at her mother's hand," said the gossip.
Many noticed that day how pensive and sad the Queen was looking, and yet her gaiety would break through her sadness now and again, and she would smile and nod when one of her ladies spoke to her, and for a minute or two appeared to be interested in the games.