inherited from his father. Hair and
complexion, originally fair, had been bronzed by his Eastern campaigns
till the crisp curling hair was almost black, and the delicate tint had
acquired a swarthy hue. He had a nose inclining to the Roman type, a
broad chest, agile arms, and excessively long legs. His dark eyes were
soft when he was in a good temper, but fierce as a tiger's when roused
to anger; and His Majesty's temper was--well, not precisely angelic.
[Note 3.] It was like lightning, in being as sudden and fierce, but it
did not resemble that natural phenomenon in disappearing as quickly as
it had come. On the contrary, Edward never forgot and hardly forgave an
injury. His abilities were beyond question, and, for his time, he was
an unusually independent and original thinker. His moral character,
however, was worse than is commonly supposed, though it did not descend
to the lowest depths it reached until after the death of his fair and
faithful Leonor.

The King's brother Edmund was that same Earl of Lancaster whom we have
already seen at Oakham. He was a man of smaller intellectual calibre
than his royal brother, but of much pleasanter disposition. Extreme
gentleness was his principal characteristic, as it has been that of all
our royal Edmunds, though in some instances it degenerated into
excessive weakness. This was not the case with the Earl of Lancaster.
His great kindness of heart is abundantly attested by his own letters
and his brother's State papers.

William de Valence, Earl of Pembroke, was the third member of the group,
and he was the uncle of the royal brothers, being a son of their
grandmother's second marriage with Hugh de Lusignan, Count de La Marche.
Though he made a deep mark upon his time, yet his character is not easy
to fathom beyond two points--that his ability had in it a little element
of craft, and that he took reasonable care of Number One.

Over the head of the lady who sat in the curule chair, quietly
embroidering, twenty-five years had passed since she had been styled by
a poet, "the loveliest lady in all the land." She was hardly less even
now, when her fifty years were nearly numbered; when, unseen by any
earthly eyes, her days were drawing to their close, and the angel of
death stood close beside her, ready to strike before six months should
be fulfilled. Certainly, according to modern ideas of beauty, never was
a queen fairer than Leonor the Faithful, and very rarely has