ese words were interchanged, the countess conducted the king to
a throne-chair raised upon the dais, by the side of which were placed
two seats of state, and, from the dais, at the same time, advanced the
Duke and Duchess of Clarence. The king prevented their kneeling, and
kissed Isabel slightly and gravely on the forehead. "Thus, noble lady,
I greet the entrance of the Duchess of Clarence into the royalty of
England."

Without pausing for reply, he passed on and seated himself on the
throne, while Isabel and her husband took possession of the state chairs
on either hand. At a gesture of the king's the countess and Anne placed
themselves on seats less raised, but still upon the dais. But now
as Edward sat, the hall grew gradually full of lords and knights who
commanded in Warwick's train, while the earl and the archbishop stood
mute in the centre, the one armed cap-a-pie, leaning on his sword, the
other with his arms folded in his long robes.

The king's eye, clear, steady, and majestic, roved round that martial
audience, worthy to be a monarch's war-council, and not one of whom
marched under a monarch's banner! Their silence, their discipline, the
splendour of their arms, the greater splendour of their noble names,
contrasted painfully with the little mutinous camp of Olney, and the
surly, untried recruits of Anthony Woodville. But Edward, whose step,
whose form, whose aspect, proclaimed the man conscious of his rights to
be lord of all, betrayed not to those around him the kingly pride, the
lofty grief, that swelled within his heart. Still seated, he raised his
left hand to command silence; with the right he replaced his plumed cap
upon his brow.

"Lords and gentlemen," he said (arrogating to himself at once, as a
thing of course, that gorgeous following), "we have craved leave of our
host to address to you some words,--words which it pleases a king to
utter, and which may not be harsh to the ears of a loyal subject. Nor
will we, at this great current of unsteady fortune, make excuse, noble
ladies, to you, that we speak of war to knighthood, which is ever the
sworn defender of the daughter and the wife,--the daughters and the wife
of our cousin Warwick have too much of hero-blood in their blue veins to
grow pale at the sight of heroes. Comrades in arms! thus far towards our
foe upon the frontier we have marched, without a sword drawn or an arrow
launched from an archer's bow. We believe that a blessing settles on th