ture and by education was excessively fond of the pomp
and the punctilios of court etiquette. As this new era of independence
dawned upon him, it was his first and most anxious object to regulate
even to the minutest details the ceremonies of the court. He was of
middling stature. High-heeled shoes added between two and three inches
to his height. His hair was very fine and abundant, and he wore it
long, in masses of ringlets upon his shoulders. Deep blue eyes, a fair
complexion, and well moulded features formed an unusually handsome
countenance. He was stately in his movements, pompous in his
utterance, and every word of every sentence was pronounced slowly and
with distinct enunciation, as if an oracle were giving out its
responses.
There was no resemblance morally, intellectually, or physically
between the king and his only brother Philip. They did not love each
other. During their whole lives there had been one perpetual struggle
on the part of the king to domineer over his brother, and on the part
of Philip to resist that domination. Philip was gentle in
disposition, effeminate in manners, and, though a voluptuary in his
tastes, a man of chivalric courage. As Duke of Orleans he had large
wealth, many retainers, and feudal privileges, which invested him with
power which even the king was compelled to respect.
Charles II. was now King of England. The whole nation had apparently
received him with exultation. Suddenly, from being a penniless and
crownless wanderer, he had become a sovereign, second in rank and
power to no other sovereign in Europe. His mother Henrietta, his
widowed sister the Princess of Orange, and his younger sister
Henrietta, of course, shared in the prosperity and elevation of
Charles. They were no longer pensioners upon the charity of their
French relatives, but composed the royal family of the British court.
It will be remembered how cruelly Louis treated his young cousin in
the ball-room in the days of her adversity. Charles in those days had
solicited of Mazarin the hand of his niece, Mary Mancini. But the
proud cardinal promptly rejected the offer of a wandering prince,
without purse or crown. Very soon after Charles II. ascended the
throne of England, Mazarin hastened to inform him that he was ready
to confer upon him his niece. Charles, a profligate fellow, declined
the proffered alliance, to the great chagrin of the haughty cardinal.
Prosperity is sometimes a great beautifier. The y
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