The Sun in Splendour

'I was never made to be a monk.'

'There is no need to be a monk. You could eat less, drink less and be faithful to your wife.'

'Ah, there speaks my good brother Richard. You find it difficult to understand men such as I am.'

'You have lost Louis' pension and he is marrying his son elsewhere. Well, you have had worse setbacks. Do you remember when you had to flee the country? As I recall you were not so very worried then.'

'I was young then . . . not so weighed down with responsi-bihties.'

'You will live long yet. The fact that you threw off this attack shows how strong you are.'

'That may be so, but I want to be prepared. I am going to use what hme is left to me to set my affairs in order. I reproach myself.'

'You reproach yourself! You who have brought the country out of anarchy! Order prevails now as hardly ever before. You have brought trade to the kingdom. You scared the King of France into paying you a pension. Forget that he will no longer do so. He did it for a time which was more than we could expect. You have the good will of the people. They love and admire you. You have a family of beautiful children and you seem to have remained pleased with the Queen.'

'Ah, I detect the inflection in your voice when you speak of the Queen. You never liked her, Richard.'

Richard was silent.

'Come,' said Edward, 'this is a time for frankness.'

'She was too low-bom for you,' said Richard.

'Oh come. Who was Warwick before he married and got his lands and title? Yet you considered Anne a worthy bride.'

'I have not been in the position to grant such possessions to her family that they might take over all the important offices in the land.'

'Ah, the Woodvilles! They are your grievance, Richard, as they are to so many others.'

'They are overbearing and arrogant for the most part as should be expected of those who come up suddenly from little.'

'I like them, Richard. They are good company. Handsome people. I like them about me.'

'And you like to please the Queen.'

'We should all try to please our wives, brother.'

'But now I sense this is the reason for your lack of ease.'

Edward was silent.

They have brought up the Prince/ went on Richard. They have imbued him with the idea that the Woodvilles are the most important people in the country.'

'If I should die/ said Edward, 'there might be trouble between the Queen's family and certain nobles/

It was Richard's turn to be silent. Edward caught his arm and looked at him earnestly.

'Brother, promise me this. You will be there. You will look after my sons. You will see them safe on the throne.'

'You are going to live for a long time. Young Edward is twelve. Why, in only six years he will be of an age to govern.'

'He will need help and what I want to be assured of is that you will be there to give it.'

'I will be there,' said Richard. 'But put these thoughts from your head. It is unlucky to speak of death. I am certain, brother, that you will not meet it for many years to come.'

'You are a comfort to me, Richard. Were you not always?'

'I have served you faithfully all the days of my life. Remember that.'

'I do remember it and it sustains me.'

'Now, have done with this talk of death. I want to speak to you about Scotland.'

After Christmas the Court went to Windsor but was back in Westminster by the end of February.

Edward had done nothing to change the household of the Prince of Wales. He knew that it would be difficult to explain to Elizabeth. It was still presided over by Anthony Woodville who was constantly with his young nephew. Anthony, disappointed of his marriage to the sister of the Scottish King, had now taken an heiress whom Elizabeth had found for him. This was Mary Fitz-Lewis whose mother was daughter of Edmund Beaufort, second Duke of Somerset. So there was not only money but good family there. However, in spite of his marriage he continued to live at Ludlow with the Prince. Elizabeth would not hear of those arrangements being changed. If Edward had had a shock, so had she and she was more determined than ever that if there were a new king he would be hedged in by Woodvilles.

There would have to be change, Edward supposed. He would see to it in due course.

At the Parliament which was called in January money and supplies were voted for an army which should go into Scotland and the King bestowed on Richard the Wardenship of the West Marches so that he was now indeed the Lord of the North.

February and March were very cold months and towards the end of March Edward went on a fishing trip with some of his friends. The wind along the river bank was piercing and the fishermen in due course decided to abandon the day's sport and return to a warm fire.

The next day the King was ill. He had pains in his side which made it impossible for him to lie comfortably.

The physicians came to him and declared themselves alarmed by his condition. He had lived so indulgently that he had used up his energies they said and lacked the strength to withstand this violent cold he had caught. It attacked his lungs.

April had come with warmer weather but the King remained in his bed for his condition did not improve. He knew he was dying and that the seizure just before Christmas had been a warning.

Time was slipping away and there was so much he should have done. He was leaving a son, a child little more, vulnerable in a situation which he, in his carelessness, had allowed to arise.

There would be warring factions. There were so many who hated the Woodvilles. While he was there he had kept the peace but what would happen when he had gone?

What must he do? What could he do?

Richard was far away in the North. He wanted Richard here but he did not send for him. He was following his old practice of turning away from what was unpleasant. He was not dying, he told himself. He was going to survive this as he had that other attack.

He would not admit that he was facing death.

He was only just forty years of age. That was not old and he had always been in such good health. Until the seizure no one had thought of him and death in the same moment. He was going to get well.

But in his heart he knew that Death was close and that he must hurry to set things right. Conflict, which seemed inevitable, must be avoided. He sent for those nobles whom he thought might quarrel together. Chief among them was Dorset, his stepson, and Hastings, his greatest friend.

Dorset was on one side of his bed, Hastings on the other and

with them were those men who supported them. They looked coldly at each other across the bed and with a gnawing anxiety Edward was aware of their hostility towards each other.

'My friends,' said the King, T beg of you forget your differences and work together for the good of my son. He and his brother are but children. They need your help. I beg you give it to them. For the love you have borne me and for the love I have borne you, and for the love that the Lord God bears to us all, I beg you love each other.'

He could not sit up and collapsed on his pillows and the sight of this great strong man thus, moved everyone present to tears.

He begged Hastings and Dorset to clasp hands and to promise as they did so that they would remember their King's dying wishes.

Hastings was overcome with emotion. There were so many memories he had shared with the King, and to see Edward lying there while life slowly ebbed from him filled him with a sad emotion—not only for the past and the good times they had shared, but for the future. He well understood Edward's fears for his son.

The boy would have to be protected . . . against the Woodvilles.

'Remember,' went on the King breathing painfully and finding the utmost difficulty in speaking, 'remember they are so young, these little boys. Great variance there has been between you and often for small causes.'