The Jubilee celebrations were now over, the Parliamentary vacation approached; and what before had been mere talk and threat could now be put into instant action. And so when he had given the King his run, and listened to the royal obstinacy in all its varying phrases of repetition, contradiction, reproach, till it reached its final stage of blank immobility, he formally tendered the Ministry's resignation.
The King sat and thought for a while, for now it was clear that one way or the other he must make up his mind. All those strings of red tape, which he had meant to tie with such dilatory cunning hung loose in his grasp; to a Cabinet really set on resignation he could not apply them. Just as his hands had seemed full of power they became empty again. He knew that at the present moment no other ministry was possible, and that a general election was more likely to accentuate than to solve his difficulties; and so in sober chagrin he sat and thought, and the Prime Minister (as he noticed) was so sure of his power that he did not even trouble to watch the process of the royal hesitation resolving itself.
When after an appreciable time the King spoke he seemed to have arrived nowhere.
"This is the fifth time," he said, "that you have offered me resignation: and you know that I am still unable to accept it."
The Prime Minister bowed his head; he knew it very well, there was no need for words.
"And you know that I am still entirely unconvinced."
"For that," said the minister, "I must take blame; since it shows that my advocacy in so strong a case has been very imperfect."
"Oh, not at all," said the King. "I think you have shown even more than your accustomed ability."
"That is a compliment which—if it may be permitted—I can certainly return to your Majesty."
"I have felt very strongly upon this matter," said the King.