he king so masculine and heroic a character. The
features were smaller, and less clearly cut, and to a physiognomical
observer there was much that was weak and irresolute in the light blue
eyes and the smiling lips which never closed firmly over the teeth. He
did not wear the long gown then so much in vogue, but his light figure
was displayed to advantage by a vest, fitting it exactly, descending
half-way down the thigh, and trimmed at the border and the collar with
ermine. The sleeves of the doublet were slit, so as to show the white
lawn beneath, and adorned with aiglets and knots of gold.

Over the left arm hung a rich jacket of furs and velvet, something
like that adopted by the modern hussar. His hat, or cap, was high and
tiara-like, with a single white plume, and the ribbon of the Garter
bound his knee. Though the dress of this personage was thus far less
effeminate than Edward's, the effect of his appearance was infinitely
more so,--partly, perhaps, from a less muscular frame, and partly
from his extreme youth; for George Duke of Clarence was then, though
initiated not only in the gayeties, but all the intrigues of the court,
only in his eighteenth year. Laying his hand, every finger of which
sparkled with jewels, on the earl's shoulder--"Hold!" said the young
prince, in a whisper, "a word in thy ear, noble Warwick!"

The earl, who, next to Edward, loved Clarence the most of his princely
House, and who always found the latter as docile as the other (when
humour or affection seized him) was intractable, relaxed into a familiar
smile at the duke's greeting, and suffered the young prince to draw him
aside from the groups of courtiers with whom the chamber was filled, to
the leaning-places (as they were called) of a large mullion window.
In the mean while, as they thus conferred, the courtiers interchanged
looks, and many an eye of fear and hate was directed towards the stately
form of the earl. For these courtiers were composed principally of the
kindred or friends of the queen, and though they dared not openly
evince the malice with which they retorted Warwick's lofty scorn and
undisguised resentment at their new fortunes, they ceased not to hope
for his speedy humiliation and disgrace, reeking little what storm might
rend the empire, so that it uprooted the giant oak, which still in some
measure shaded their sunlight and checked their growth. True, however,
that amongst these were mingled, though rarely, men of a