Julian was seated in the deep recess which led to a latticed window of the old Castle; and, with his arms crossed, and an air of profound contemplation, was surveying the long perspective of ocean, which rolled its successive waves up to the foot of the rock on which the ancient pile is founded. The Earl was suffering under the infliction of ennui--now looking into a volume of Homer--now whistling--now swinging on his chair--now traversing the room--till, at length, his attention became swallowed up in admiration of the tranquillity of his companion. “King of Men!” he said, repeating the favourite epithet by which Homer describes Agamemnon,--“I trust, for the old Greek’s sake, he had a merrier office than being King of Man--Most philosophical Julian, will nothing rouse thee--not even a bad pun on my own royal dignity?” “I wish you would be a little more the King in Man,” said Julian, starting from his reverie, “and then you would find more amusement in your dominions.” “What! dethrone that royal Semiramis my mother,” said the young lord, “who has as much pleasure in playing Queen as if she were a real Sovereign?--I wonder you can give me such counsel.” “Your mother, as you well know, my dear Derby, would be delighted, did you take any interest in the affairs of the island.” “Ay, truly, she would permit me to be King; but she would choose to remain Viceroy over me. Why, she would only gain a subject the more, by my converting my spare time, which is so very valuable to me, to the cares of royalty. No, no, Julian, she thinks it power, to direct all the affairs of these poor Manxmen; and, thinking it power, she finds it pleasure. I shall not interfere, unless she hold a high court of justice again. I cannot afford to pay another fine to my brother, King Charles--But I forget--this is a sore point with you.” “With the Countess, at least,” replied Julian; “and I wonder you will speak of it.” “Why, I bear no malice against the poor man’s memory any more than yourself, though I have not the same reasons for holding it in veneration,” replied the Earl of Derby; “and yet I have some respect for it too. I remember their bringing him out to die--It was the first holiday I ever had in my life, and I heartily wish it had been on some other account.” “I would rather hear you speak of anything else, my lord,” said Julian. “Why, there it goes,” answered the Earl; “whenever I talk of anything that puts you on your mettle, and warms your blood, that runs as cold as a merman’s--to use a simile of this happy island--hey pass! you press me to change the subject.--Well, what shall we talk of?--O Julian, if you had not gone down to earth yourself among the castles and caverns of Derbyshire, we should have had enough of delicious topics--the play-houses, Julian--Both the King’s house and the Duke’s--Louis’s establishment is a jest to them;--and the Ring in the Park, which beats the Corso at Naples--and the beauties, who beat the whole world!”