"
"As your lady's grace wishes," said the dragon. "But methinks
when you have heard me through, you would that it had been the
last or else not told at all."
"Your lordship of Misrule and my lady's grace must know," began
the dragon, "that my story, though a short, is a startling one.
Once on a time there lived a king, who, though but a boy, did, by
God's grace, in talent, industry, perseverance, and knowledge,
surpass both his own years and the belief of men. And because he
was good and gentle alike and conditioned beyond the measure of
his years, he was the greater prey to the wicked wiles of
traitorous men. And one such, high in the king's court, thought
to work him ill; and to carry out his ends did wantonly awaken
seditious and rebellious intent even among the king's kith and
kin, whom lie traitorously sought to wed,--his royal and younger
sister,--nay, start' not my lady's grace!" exclaimed the dragon
quickly, as Elizabeth turned upon him a look of sudden and
haughty surprise. "All is known! And this is the ending of my
wondrous tale. My Lord Seymour of Sudleye is this day taken for
high treason and haled[1] to the Tower.
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