“What do you mean?” said John. “You well know my claims,” replied Arthur. “And I scorn them,” said the King menacingly. “Bethink you. You are a prisoner. You should be more moderate of speech.” “Imprisonment cannot make wrong right. It is more likely to add new wrongs to old ones.” “Silence,” thundered John. “How does a mere worm, whom I can trample under my feet, dare to be so bold?” Arthur’s hand involuntarily sought his missing sword. Blazing with anger, he exclaimed: “Shame upon you thus to abuse and threaten a prisoner! Even if you despise the ties of relationship, at least honor the obligations of knighthood, to which we both belong.” The knights present loudly applauded these words, occasioning much confusion. Thereupon John, chagrined as he realized he had gone too far, quietly observed: “I am the best judge of what is becoming to knighthood. The honor of the King stands higher still. You may retire, Duke Arthur.” The King beckoned to the guards and Arthur was led away, taking with him the unmistakable sympathy of all present. “You have heard, my lords, how this prisoner defies me,” resumed the King. A pause followed these words, and lasted until Salisbury came forward and said: “The Duke spoke the truth; and as it was youthful impulse which actuated him, I think, and many others with me, that he had sufficient excuse.” “Lords Pembroke and Bigot, is that your opinion?” said the King. Venerable Lord Pembroke calmly replied: “If the grade of kinship alone entitled him to the succession, Arthur would have the legitimate claim from his father, Geoffrey, your eldest brother. Nay, King, do not interrupt. Hear me out. We, the lords of England, recognized you as King after Richard’s death, though well aware that a nearer heir was living. But when we elevated you to the throne we took into consideration not alone the question of inheritance, but the welfare of England. The fearful struggle after the first Henry’s death, in which rivers of blood were shed, to decide who should wear the crown, is still fresh in the minds of the people. Civil war must not again devastate the country; and yet I most earnestly warn you to treat your nephew, Arthur of Brittany, with the consideration due to his rank, to honor him in knightly fashion, and to give him back his dukedom unimpaired. Promise me this, O King, and receive anew our loyal devotion. Do you endorse my proposal, noble lords?” The convincing importance of his statement, as well as the imposing presence of Lord Pembroke, made a profound impression, and all raised their hands in assent. John looked around the circle in a triumphant manner and said in a conciliatory tone: “I give the promise which you desire unconditionally, my loving and trusty followers. I am pained that you should have believed I would not deal with my nephew as becomes his rank, even without a promise.”