“I trust that your Majesty will pardon me, your most faithful servant, when you learn that I was more deeply engaged in your Majesty’s affairs, and the welfare of the state, than those who would poison your gracious ears with lying tales against my credit;” and drawing up his commanding figure, which towered above the crowd of courtiers, his eagle glance ranged over the frowning countenances of those who stood around. “But I know that your Majesty is too wise and generous to believe them, while I can prove my devotion to your service. I have detected, and for the present counteracted, a conspiracy to deprive your Majesty of your sovereign rights, and to bring your mind under subjection of your most subtle foes, the Jesuits. While many, who would endeavour to injure me in your estimation are passing their nights in sleep or dissipation, I have been consuming the midnight oil in your service, snatching, at intervals, a few hours of hurried rest. The details of my researches I will lay before your Majesty at some future period, and, till then, I trust in your goodness not to condemn me.”
“We fully trust to your zeal, my friend, and know you to be a most loving and faithful servant,” answered the King, banishing, in a moment, all the dark suspicions which had arisen in his mind. “Say no more on the subject at present; but, when this ceremony is over, we will consult in private on the affair. See, numbers are pressing forward to pay their duty to us.”
“But not one whose heart beats with fonder devotion for your Majesty,” answered the Minister, again bending his knee, and kissing the hand of the King, held out to him, when he retired to his allotted station. The Queen and Dom Pedro looked angrily at him, but dared not utter their feelings; the courtiers glanced at each other, when they were not observed, and shrugged their shoulders, seeing that for the present it was in vain to attempt to injure him with the King; but vowing not to lose another opportunity of renewing their attacks against one whom they had just reason to fear. Carvalho spoke a few words, in whispers, to his colleagues, whose eyes sunk on the ground as he proceeded; and, indeed, no one of that assembly of the proudest and most noble in the land seemed as much at their ease as before he entered, except the King himself, who, on the contrary, uttered his expressions of courtesy to those who came to pay their respects, with greater ease and fluency. One of the first was the Marquis of Marialva, one of the most justly-esteemed nobles of the Court, who ever retained the affection of the King, though he did not escape the jealousy of the Minister, who was, however, never able to injure him. “Do what you will with the others,” the King used to say; “but let alone my marquis.” He now entered, with a free and graceful manner, for which he was remarkable, and affectionately kissed the hand of his royal friend.
“Ah, my good marquis, we missed you much from our hunting party yesterday,” said the King. “We much required your active arm to slay the beast, who gored one of our best dogs before he was slain.”
“I had sprained my left arm, and could not guide my horse, or I should not have missed the honour of accompanying your Majesty,” returned Marialva.
“We know; we heard of your accident, and are glad to find that you are so far recovered; and, as we have a favour to ask, let us know when you are perfectly strong. We wish to show the English Minister that we have some nobles of our Court—and of no mean rank either—who are fully equal to the feats of agility and strength of which his countrymen boast. Our father—to whose soul God be merciful!—sent to the English Court an ambassador, who was, we heard, the tallest among all the corps diplomatique, and not the least able, we suspect; so that we may vie with those islanders both in strength and size.”
The Marquis smiled, as he answered, “I will gladly obey your Majesty in anything you may command, and hope in a few days sufficiently to recover my strength to do so.”
A few persons of less note followed, when a disturbance, most unusual at Court, occurred, and a voice, as if in angry discussion, was heard, when the Duke of Aveiro was seen advancing in a hurried and disordered manner. A fierce fire burnt in his eye, and a frown deeply furrowed his brow, while his hand wandered unconsciously to the hilt of his sword; but, as he came close to the King, the presence of majesty restored him slightly to order; yet his carriage was far from having that respectful manner which he was bound to preserve: his step was irregular, and he yet snorted with rage, as, in a careless and indifferent way, he stooped to kiss the hand of his sovereign.
“What has caused my lord duke to be so angry this morning?” said the King. “He seems to forget that he is in the royal palace.”
“I forget not where I am, for I have too much to remind me of it,” answered the Duke, haughtily. “I have been insulted grossly—insulted by one of the ministers in whom your Majesty pleases to confide, in a way to which no noble can submit.”