cted your lance against your equals, and
your order hath gone forth to the fierce of heart, 'Never smite the
commons!' In peace, you alone have stood up in your haughty parliament
for just law or for gentle mercy; your castle hath had a board for the
hungry and a shelter for the houseless; your pride, which hath bearded
kings and humbled upstarts, hath never had a taunt for the lowly; and
therefore I--son of the people--in the people's name, bless you living,
and sigh to ask whether a people's gratitude will mourn you dead!
Beware Edward's false smile, beware Clarence's fickle faith, beware
Gloucester's inscrutable wile! Mark, the sun sets!--and while we speak,
yon dark cloud gathers over your plumed head."

He pointed to the heavens as he ceased, and a low roll of gathering
thunder seemed to answer his ominous warning. Without tarrying for the
earl's answer, Hilyard shook the reins of his steed, and disappeared in
the winding of the lane through which he took his way.

CHAPTER V. WHAT FAITH EDWARD IV. PURPOSETH TO KEEP WITH EARL AND PEOPLE.

Edward received his triumphant envoy with open arms and profuse
expressions of gratitude. He exerted himself to the utmost in the
banquet that crowned the day, not only to conciliate the illustrious new
comers, but to remove from the minds of Raoul de Fulke and his officers
all memory of their past disaffection. No gift is rarer or more
successful in the intrigues of life than that which Edward eminently
possessed,--namely, the hypocrisy of frankness. Dissimulation is often
humble, often polished, often grave, sleek, smooth, decorous; but it
is rarely gay and jovial, a hearty laughter, a merry, cordial, boon
companion. Such, however, was the felicitous craft of Edward IV.; and,
indeed, his spirits were naturally so high, his good humour so flowing,
that this joyous hypocrisy cost him no effort. Elated at the dispersion
of his foes, at the prospect of his return to his ordinary life of
pleasure, there was something so kindly and so winning in his mirth,
that he subjugated entirely the fiery temper of Raoul de Fulke and the
steadier suspicions of the more thoughtful St. John. Clarence, wholly
reconciled to Edward, gazed on him with eyes swimming with affection,
and soon drank himself into uproarious joviality. The archbishop, more
reserved, still animated the society by the dry and epigrammatic wit not
uncommon to his learned and subtle mind. But Warwick in vain endeavoured
t