These parties, as ye must all know, were, first--the Queen and her favorites, secondly--Buckingham and the most powerful of the ancient nobility--to which party belonged my Lord Hastings--and thirdly,--Gloucester himself, for the reason that he did not wish to be connected with--and so be dependent on--either of the other parties. When all these were come unto his bedside, the King addressed them thus:--"You all must know that I am about to leave this fair kingdom, where I have had such strife and yet such happiness, to join that other land to which spirits alone can go. Before I leave it is my pleasure to have ye all at peace with one another. In case this strife should continue, it will surely lead to great troubles for poor England, which we all do love so dearly. Therefore, my faithful subjects and friends, bethink ye of your duty. Here in this room, before ye leave my presence, I wish to see ye all embrace each other and swear by my death-bed to live in peace together. "My brother Richard, I charge thee to look after my children, which shall soon be fatherless, and may God deal with thee as thou dost deal with them. I wish thee to be the protector of my son Edward, and to assist him in his government until such time as he doth come unto years of discretion." So there by his bedside they went through the forms which the King did ask of them. I say, went through the forms; for that was all they did. I do not believe that one of those present ever intended to keep the oath he there made to the King; for their conduct after his death is sufficient evidence of their insincerity. 'Twas told to me afterwards, by one which saw all that which I have here described, that as Richard left the room, with his handkerchief to his eyes, it was to hide his laughter rather than his tears. And I do believe this to be so; for I consider it impossible for that man ever to have had the tenderness of heart necessary to produce one tear. Be that as it may, he was not long in demonstrating his love and charity towards his brother's children. One morning, some days after this bedside gathering, when I met Hazel in the park, as was now my wont, her eyes were red with weeping. "Come, come, my fair one, thou must not look so unhappy, or else I shall fear that thou hast ceased to love me. Now tell me what is the matter, that I may console thee." "Hast thou then not heard the news?" she asked. "I have not," I replied, "it must be evil news indeed, to make thee so unhappy." "The King is dead," she said. "When did he die?" "About an hour since;" and then she wiped her eyes again. "Why dost thou weep so for the King?" I asked; for I did not like to see Hazel weeping because another man had died. "Oh, thou stupid!" she cried out impatiently; "cannot you see that it is on the poor Queen's account? I love her as I did my own dear, and now dead, mother; and when I see her in such sorrow it maketh me to feel as if 'twere mine own."