May shame fall on those who bear you
any ill-will! You will now return home, and take your prisoner, the
King of Scotland, and deliver him to my wife, to do with as she may
elect. You will convey to her my entreaty--not my orders, John,--that
she come to me here at Calais. As remuneration for this evening's
insolence, I assign lands as near your house as you can choose them to
the value of L500 a year for you and for your heirs."
You must know that John Copeland fell upon his knees before King
Edward. "Sire--" he stammered.
But the King raised him. "No, no," he said, "you are the better man.
Were there any equity in fate, John Copeland, your lady had loved you,
not me. As it is, I must strive to prove not altogether unworthy of my
fortune. But I make no large promises," he added, squinting horribly,
"because the most generous person cannot render to love any more than
that person happens to possess. So be off with you, John
Copeland,--go, my squire, and bring me back my Queen!"
Presently he heard John Copeland singing without.
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