d."

"You do right to say 'if you could,'" rejoined Paddington. "The
beheading of a wife is a royal privilege, and cannot be enjoyed by a
subject."

"Marry, I wonder how the king could prefer Mistress Jane Seymour, for my
part!" said Hector Cutbeard. "To my thinking she is not to be compared
with Queen Anne."

"She has a lovely blue eye, and a figure as straight as an arrow,"
returned Shoreditch. "How say you, master?" he added, turning to the
king; "what think you of Mistress Jane Seymour?"

"That she is passably fair, friend," replied Henry.

"But how as compared with the late--that is, the present queen, for,
poor soul! she has yet some hours to live," rejoined Shoreditch. "How,
as compared with her?"

"Why, I think Jane Seymour the more lovely, Undoubtedly," replied Henry.
"But I may be prejudiced."

"Not in the least, friend," said Cutbeard. "You but partake of your
royal master's humour. Jane Seymour is beautiful, no doubt, and so was
Anne Boleyn. Marry! we shall see many fair queens on the throne. The
royal Henry has good taste and good management. He sets his subjects
a rare example, and shows them how to get rid of troublesome wives.
We shall all divorce or hang our spouses when we get tired of them. I
almost wish I was married myself, that I might try the experiment-ha!
ha!"

"Well, here's the king's health!" cried Shoreditch, "and wishing him as
many wives as he may desire. What say you, friend?" he added, turning to
Henry. "Will you not drink that toast?"

"That will I," replied Henry; "but I fancy the king will be content for
the present with Mistress Jane Seymour."

"For the present, no doubt," said Hector Cutbeard; "but the time will
come--and ere long--when Jane will be as irksome to him as Anne is now."

"Ah, God's death, knave! darest thou say so?" cried Henry furiously.

"Why, I have said nothing treasonable, I hope?" rejoined Cutbeard,
turning pale; "I only wish the king to be happy in his own way. And as
he seems to delight in change of wives, I pray that he may have it to
his heart's content."

"A fair explanation," replied Henry, laughing.

"Let me give a health, my masters!" cried a tall archer, whom no one had
hitherto noticed, rising in one corner of the room. "It is--The headsman
of Calais, and may he do his work featly tomorrow!"

"Ha! ha! ha! a good toast!" cried Hector Cutbeard.

"Seize him who has proposed it!" cried the king, rising; "it is Herne
the Hunter!"

"I la