“Why, what is this?” he exclaimed; “I did not come to interrupt your amusements, but on the contrary to enjoy them with you.” But the wild mirth and abandon of the children had fled at the approach of royalty, and, in spite of these kind assurances, they withdrew in rapid succession, too glad to recover their liberty, and their father was thus left alone with the king.
“Who is the young man I see here?” inquired the sovereign.
“He is the affianced husband of my daughter, sire; his name is William Roper,” answered More.
“What! is she affianced already?” said the king.
“Yes, sire; the family of Roper has for many years been united to ours by the sincerest ties of friendship, and, strengthening these by ties of blood, we hope greatly to increase our mutual happiness.”
“That is so,” replied the king. “And they will doubtless be happy. In your families you preserve liberty of choice, while we princes, born to thrones, sacrifice our interior happiness to those political combinations demanded by the interests of our subjects.”
“But,” replied Sir Thomas—who understood at once the king’s intention was to introduce the subject of his divorce, a topic he especially wished to avoid—“I believe that happiness depends on ourselves, on our dispositions, and the manner in which we conduct our affairs, a great deal more than on circumstances, or the social position in which we chance to be born. There are some who, possessing every advantage in life, are still unable to enjoy it. We would suppose them to be perfectly happy, and they really should be so; but true happiness consists alone in tranquillity of soul, which is attained by always doing good to others, and suffering with patient submission the trials and afflictions with which life is inevitably beset. Such, it seems to me, is the circumscribed circle in which man is confined; it is well with him so long as he accommodates himself to its legitimate limits, but all is lost the moment he endeavors to venture beyond it.”
“I am every day more entirely convinced that this figure of the circle is a painful reality,” replied the king, with ill-concealed impatience. “I have always hoped to find happiness in the pursuit of pleasure—in the gratification of every desire—and believed it might thus be attained, but never yet have I been able to grasp it.”
“Which means, your majesty expected to pass through the world without trials—a thing utterly impossible,” added More, smiling.
“It is that which makes me despair, my dear Thomas. Reflecting on the bitter disappointments I have experienced, I am often almost transported with rage. No, More, you can never understand me. You are always equally calm and joyous. Your desires are so happily directed that you can feel well assured of a peaceful, quiet future awaiting you.”