Arabella Stuart: A Romance from English HistoryJames, G. P. R. (George Payne Rainsford)
General
Arabella Stuart: A Romance from English History
James, G. P. R. (George Payne Rainsford)
Stuart, Arabella, Lady, 1575-1615 -- Fiction
"I found myself bound, sire," said William Seymour, taking a step
forward, "to punish a personage who thought fit to use towards me
words unbecoming a gentleman to give or to receive; and who had,
moreover, paid no respect either to my rank or station, to my distant
relationship to your Majesty, or to your own will in naming me the
first to escort the Lady Arabella hither."
"And so ye have fought?" cried the King, opening his large eyes, and
gaping upon him with his mouth, as if in utter astonishment; "and so
ye have fought.--My truly! ye are a graceless pack; and if ye have
drawn your swords within the precincts of our court, ye shall both
suffer accordingly."
"No, sire," replied Seymour; "we took care not so to offend. But
immediately on our return, we went beyond the park walls to a spot
about a mile and a half distant, and there ended our quarrel as became
us."
"Became you?" cried the King; "I'd have you to know, that nothing of
the kind becomes you at all--I will have a stop put to such things,
and no more bickering, and quarrelling, and taking to the strong hand
in my dominions. As ye punished him, as ye call it, I'll punish you
and banish you from our realm, not to return till our pleasure. Ye
take much upon you, sir, on the strength of a very distant
relationship to ourselves; ye set great store by a small matter."
"No small matter, sire, in my eyes, to be ever so distantly related to
your Majesty," replied the young gentleman, who, though grieved and
indignant, was anxious if possible to conciliate the King, and obtain
a reversal of his sentence.
"That's not ill-spoken, sir," answered James; "but, nevertheless, we
will have you take the air of the continent for a couple of years; the
warmer climate may suit your warm blood, and when we have sure proof
that it has grown cooler, we will let you come back again, but not
before; for we are resolved that such strife shall no longer go on."
William Seymour stood before the King for a moment without reply.
There was, indeed, an answer springing to his lips; that it was not in
the power of any King, by his mere word, to banish a British subject
from the land of his birth. But he recollected that by such conduct he
might blast all his own dearest hopes for ever; that there were means,
too, within the reach of those in authority to change the fate which
seemed to await him even for a worse; and in the mood which apparently
reigned throughout the whole court and kingdom, the King's will, he
feared, would be taken for law.
A hope, too, might enter into his breast, that by using the influence
of his family and friends he might shake the monarch's decision; and,
amongst the multitude of hurrying thoughts that crossed his mind,
during the single moment that he stood there silent, there came a
sweet, delusive dream, full of romance and love,--for it could not be
called a plan,--which made him fancy that, under some circumstances,
his exile might be converted into the brightest of blessings.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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