God and the King — Text and Context

oom, a gentleman seated opposite the window at a tall black cabinet decorated with gold lacquer Chinese figures, that showed vivid even in the twilight. He was watching his companion with a gentle expression of judgment, and twirling in his slim fingers a half-blown white rose.

An over-richness of furniture, hangings, and appointments distinguished the chamber, which was little more than a cabinet. The flush of rich hues in the Mortlake tapestries, the gold on the China bureau, the marble, gilt, and carving about the mantel, two fine and worldly Italian paintings and crystal sconces, set in silver, combined to give the place an overpowering air of lavishness; noticeable in one corner was a large ebony and enamel crucifix.

The persons of these two gentlemen were in keeping with this air of wealth, both being dressed in an opulent style, but in themselves they differed entirely from each other.

Neither was young, and both would have been conspicuous in any company for extreme handsomeness, but there was no further likeness.

He at the window was by many years the older, and past the prime of life, but the magnificence of his appearance created no impression of age.

Unusually tall, finely made and graceful, he carried himself with great dignity; his countenance, which had been of the purest type of aristocratic beauty, was now lined and marred—not so much by years, as by a certain gloom and sourness that had become his permanent expression; his eyes were large, grey, and commanding, his mouth noble, but disfigured by a sneer, his complexion blond and pale, his nose delicately formed and straight; a fair peruke shaded his face and hung on to his shoulders; he was dressed, splendidly but carelessly, in deep blue satins, a quantity of heavy Venice lace, and a great sword belt of embroidered leather.

The other gentleman was still in the prime of life, being under fifty, and looking less than his age.

Slight in build, above the medium height, and justly proportioned, handsome and refined in feature, dressed with great richness in the utmost extreme of fashion, he appeared the very type of a noble idle courtier, but in his long, straight, heavy-lidded eyes, thin sensitive mouth, and the deeply cut curve of his nostril was an expression of power and intelligence above that of a mere favourite of courts.

He wore his own fair hair frizzed and curled out on to his shoulders and brought very low on to his forehead; under his chin was a knot of black satin that accentuated the pale delicacy of his complexion; every detail of his attire showed the same regard to his appearance and the mode. Had it not been for that unconscious look of mastery in the calm face he would have seemed no more than a wealthy man of fashion. In his beautifully formed and white hands he held, as well as the rose, a handkerchief that he now and then pressed to his lips; in great contrast to the other man, who appeared self-absorbed and natural, his movements and his pose were extremely affected.

A pause of silence wore out; the man at the window beat his fingers impatiently on the high walnut back of the chair beside him, then suddenly turned a frowning face towards the darkening room.

"My lord, what doth this presage?"

He asked the question heavily and as if he had much confidence and trust in the man to whom he spoke.

My lord answered instantly, in a voice as artificial as the fastidious appointments of his dress.

"Nothing that Your Majesty’s wisdom and the devotion of your servants cannot control and dispel."

James Stewart turned his eyes again to the open casement.

"Do you take it so lightly, my lord?" he asked uneasily. "All London shouting for these disloyal prelates—the city against me?"

Lord Sunderland replied, his peculiarly soothing tones lowered to a kind of caressing gentleness, while he kept his eyes fixed on the King.

"Not the city, sir. Your Majesty heareth but the mobile—the handful that will always rejoice at a set given to authority. The people love Your Majesty and applaud your measures."

"But I am not popular as my brother was," said the King, but half satisfied, and with an angry look towards London.

The Earl was ready with his softly worded reassurances.