“That she is passably fair, friend,” replied Henry.
“But how as compared with the late—that is, the present queen, for, poor soul! she has yet some hours to live,” rejoined Shoreditch. “How, as compared with her?”
“Why, I think Jane Seymour the more lovely, Undoubtedly,” replied Henry. “But I may be prejudiced.”
“Not in the least, friend,” said Cutbeard. “You but partake of your royal master's humour. Jane Seymour is beautiful, no doubt, and so was Anne Boleyn. Marry! we shall see many fair queens on the throne. The royal Henry has good taste and good management. He sets his subjects a rare example, and shows them how to get rid of troublesome wives. We shall all divorce or hang our spouses when we get tired of them. I almost wish I was married myself, that I might try the experiment-ha! ha!”
“Well, here's the king's health!” cried Shoreditch, “and wishing him as many wives as he may desire. What say you, friend?” he added, turning to Henry. “Will you not drink that toast?”
“That will I,” replied Henry; “but I fancy the king will be content for the present with Mistress Jane Seymour.”
“For the present, no doubt,” said Hector Cutbeard; “but the time will come—and ere long—when Jane will be as irksome to him as Anne is now.”
“Ah, God's death, knave! darest thou say so?” cried Henry furiously.
“Why, I have said nothing treasonable, I hope?” rejoined Cutbeard, turning pale; “I only wish the king to be happy in his own way. And as he seems to delight in change of wives, I pray that he may have it to his heart's content.”
“A fair explanation,” replied Henry, laughing.