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He put a question to Tom in French. Tom stood silent a moment,
embarrassed by having so many eyes centred upon him, then said
diffidently--
"I have no knowledge of this tongue, so please your majesty."
The King fell back upon his couch. The attendants flew to his
assistance; but he put them aside, and said--
"Trouble me not--it is nothing but a scurvy faintness. Raise me! There,
'tis sufficient. Come hither, child; there, rest thy poor troubled head
upon thy father's heart, and be at peace. Thou'lt soon be well: 'tis
but a passing fantasy. Fear thou not; thou'lt soon be well." Then he
turned toward the company: his gentle manner changed, and baleful
lightnings began to play from his eyes. He said--
"List ye all! This my son is mad; but it is not permanent. Over-study
hath done this, and somewhat too much of confinement. Away with his
books and teachers! see ye to it. Pleasure him with sports, beguile him
in wholesome ways, so that his health come again." He raised himself
higher still, and went on with energy, "He is mad; but he is my son, and
England's heir; and, mad or sane, still shall he reign! And hear ye
further, and proclaim it: whoso speaketh of this his distemper worketh
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