“Why, faith,” said the King, “some words passed betwixt us this morning—his Duchess it seems is dead—and to lose no time, his Grace had cast his eyes about for means of repairing the loss, and had the assurance to ask our consent to woo my niece Lady Anne.”
“Which your Majesty of course rejected?” said the statesman.
“And not without rebuking his assurance,” added the King.
“In private, sire, or before any witnesses?” said the Duke of Ormond.
“Before no one,” said the King,—“excepting, indeed, little Chiffinch; and he, you know, is no one.”
“Hinc illæ lachrymæ,” said Ormond. “I know his Grace well. While the rebuke of his aspiring petulance was a matter betwixt your Majesty and him, he might have let it pass by; but a check before a fellow from whom it was likely enough to travel through the Court, was a matter to be revenged.”
Here Selby came hastily from the other room, to say, that his Grace of Buckingham had just entered the presence-chamber.
The King rose. “Let a boat be in readiness, with a party of the yeomen,” said he. “It may be necessary to attach him of treason, and send him to the Tower.”
“Should not a Secretary of State’s warrant be prepared?” said Ormond.
“No, my Lord Duke,” said the King sharply. “I still hope that the necessity may be avoided.”