‘I would scarcely ask a dog to come out with me this wintry morn,’ said he, as he waved back his sleepy chamberlain, Fitzhugh, and took his brother king’s arm; ’but I could not but crave a turn with thee, Jamie, ere the hue and cry of rejoicing begins.’

‘That is poor welcome for your heir,’ said James.

‘Poor child!’ said Henry; then, after they had walked some space in silence, he added, ’You’ll mock me, but I would that this had not befallen at Windsor.  I had laid my plans that it should be otherwise; but ladies are ill to guide.’

’And wherefore should it not have been at fair Windsor?  If I can love it as a prison, sure your son may well love it as a cradle.’

‘No dishonour to Windsor,’ said Henry; ’but, sleeping or waking, this whole night hath this adage rung in my ears—­

   “Harry, born at Monmouth, shall short time live and all get;
   Harry, born at Windsor, shall long time live and lose all."’

‘A most choice piece of royal poesy and prophecy,’ laughed James.

’Nay, do not charge me with it, thou dainty minstrel.  It was sung to me by mime old Herefordshire nurse, when Windsor seemed as little within my reach as Meaux, and I never thought of it again till I looked to have a son.’

‘Then balk the prophecy,’ said James; ’Edward born at Windsor got enough, and lived long enough to boot!’

‘Too late!’ was the answer.  ’The Archbishop christened the poor child Harry in the very hour of his birth.’

‘Poor child!’ echoed James, rather sarcastically.

’Nay, ‘tis not solely the rhyme,’ said Henry; ’but this has been a wakeful night, and not without misgivings whether I am one who ought to look for joy in his children.’

‘What is past was not such that you alone should cry mea culpa,’ said James.

‘I never thought so till now,’ said Henry.  ’Yet who knows?  My father was a winsome young man ere his exile, full of tenderness to us all, at the rare times he was with us.  Who knows what cares may make of me ere my boy learns to knew me?’

‘You will not hold him aloof, and give him no chance of loving you?’

’I trow not!  I’ll have him with me in the camp, and he and my brave men shall be one another’s pride.  Which Roman emperor is it that hears the nickname his father’s soldiers gave him as a child?  Nay—­Caligula was it?  Omens are against me this morning.’

‘Then laughs them to scorn, and be yourself,’ said James.  ’Bless God for the goodly child, who is born to two kingdoms, won by his father’s and his grandsire’s swords.’

‘Ah!’ said Henry, depressed by failing health, a sleepless night, and hungry morning, ’maybe it were better for him, soul and body both, did I stand here Duke of Lancaster, and good Edmund of March yonder were head of realm and army.’

‘Never would he be head of this army,’ said James.  ’He would be snoring at Shene; that is, if he could sleep for the trouble the Duke of Lancaster would be giving him.’