“Hot? I like that,” said Stephen. “It was cold enough that day she made tracks in the snow. I’ve had rheumatism ever since.”
“By the way,” said Henry the Second, “I can put you up to a capital cure for rheumatism. Tried it myself. It was after that little affair about Beckett, you know. I was a good deal run down; and I got a fellow to touch me up on the shoulder with a cat. You’ve no notion how it picks a fellow up. Quite my own notion, too. Come, and I’ll give you a dose.”
“Don’t mind the governor.” said Richard; “he will have his joke. Did you ever read the Talisman, Tilly?—jolly story!—all about yours truly. You can get it for 4 pence ha’penny. I say, what’s to be done with this chap, Johnny? He’s a little like Arthur of Brittany, isn’t he? Suppose, just to keep your hand in—”
Here John turned very red, and got into a towering rage, and threatened to tear up the Magna Charta to spite them all. Whereat they all laughed.
All this time I lay, bewildered and speechless, on the floor. It was a long time before they could bring their minds to decide what was to be done with me; and, indeed, I began half to hope they had forgotten me in their own squabbles, when a great burly form pushed his way into the group, and asked what all the noise was about.
“As if I haven’t noise enough in my place with all my six wives talking at the same time,” said he, “without your row. What is it? Can’t you settle it and be done?”
William Rufus turned me over again with his foot.
“That thing’s the matter,” said he.
King Hal stooped down, with his hands on his knees, and stared at me. Then he gave a low whistle.
“Whew!” said he. “That’s a catch and a half. Where did you get him?”