The pains of his leg seemed to have disappeared, and even the weight
of his body seemed to be less burdensome than usual, for more than
once he rose from his chair, and walked a few steps through the
brilliantly lighted saloon, in which the ladies and lords of his
court, in festive attire, were moving gently to and fro; in which
music and laughter resounded. How tender he showed himself toward
the queen to-day; with what extraordinary kindness he met the Duke
of Norfolk; with what smiling attention, he listened to the Earl of
Surrey, as he, at the king's desire, recited some new sonnets to
Geraldine!
This marked preference for the noble Howards enraptured the Roman
Catholic party at court, and filled it with new hopes and new
confidence.
But one there was who did not allow himself to be deceived by this
mask which King Henry had to-day put on over his wrathful face.
John Heywood had faith neither in the king's cheerfulness nor in his
tenderness. He knew the king; he was aware that those to whom he was
most friendly often had the most to fear from him. Therefore, he
watched him; and he saw, beneath this mask of friendliness, the
king's real angry countenance sometimes flash out in a quick, hasty
look.
The resounding music and the mad rejoicing no more deceived John
Heywood. He beheld Death standing behind this dazzling life; he
smelt the reek of corruption concealed beneath the perfume of these
brilliant flowers.
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