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"Mr. Mompesson," said the King serenely, "do you believe in God?"The young man answered evenly: "Most assuredly, Sir."The King looked at him steadily out of dark clear eyes and smiled a little like one considering. "Any particular form or manner of God?" he asked, holding his olive-hued hands to the fire blaze.Bab Mompesson glanced up at his questioner. "I do not take your Majesty's meaning," he answered in a tone of hesitation.The King kept his soft yet powerful gaze fixed on the man before him as he replied in the smoothest accents of his pleasing voice: "If you believe in God and go no further, Mr. Mompesson, you are scarce the man I want. My Lord Buckingham, my Lord Arlington would say as much-at times. If you would serve me you must have a creed as well as a God.""I am of the Church of England, Sir," said Mr. Mompesson, "and zealous for the Reformed faith.""You mean that-honestly?" asked Charles Stewart slowly.Mr. Mompesson smiled now and returned the King's strong look strongly. "My father was of the Lord Cromwell's party as your Majesty knows-a dissenter-we have never favoured Popery."The King placed his dark hand on the crimson sleeve of the young man. "I have no wish to convert you to the Church of Rome," he smiled. "You are here because I heard from my brother that you were the most obstinate Puritan at the Admiralty, a man of old-fashioned virtues, Mr. Mompesson.""Sir, I hope his Highness cannot call me lacking in my duties," answered Bab Mompesson stiffly; but he slightly flushed under the continued scrutiny of the powerful dark eyes.The King rose from the tapestry chair with a graceful abruptness and looked down on the hearth where logs burnt to a clear gold flame; he leant against the mantle that bore the arms of England and France, and stared, not now at Bab Mompesson, but at the two tall, uncurtained windows.The sky was a foreboding grey, a few flakes of snow fluttered against its leaden depth; the trees and walks sloping down to Whitehall steps and the river swollen between its banks were bitten with frost and smitten with a keen wind.Mr. Mompesson, following the King's gaze, glanced at this prospect without interest, then took advantage of the silence to observe the King, whom he had never spoken with before this afternoon.… (plus d'informations)
Book two of The William and Mary trilogy covers the time 1672-1688, with William still trying to get England to join the Netherlands against France’s aggression. Waging war against France, with too few allies, yet wresting some of the Provinces back. To the end, where a peace is negotiated with France against his will, knowing that that makes it all to do over again.
Informations provenant du Partage des connaissances anglais.Modifiez pour passer à votre langue.
“For, Sir, you that see all the great motions of the world and can so well judge of them, know there is no reliance on anything that is not steady to principles and prefers not the common good before private interest.” –The Bishop of London to the Prince of Orange
Dédicace
Premiers mots
Informations provenant du Partage des connaissances anglais.Modifiez pour passer à votre langue.
“Mr. Mompesson,” said the King serenely, “do you believe in God?”
Citations
Informations provenant du Partage des connaissances anglais.Modifiez pour passer à votre langue.
...his Highness had made great sacrifices for his country: all the emoluments of his offices he had given the States for their defence, and his immense private fortune he was devoting to the same end; he had refused to conclude treaties for his own advantage, and his one thought and aim, since the ghastly year of ’72, had been the deliverance of his country and his faith.
Toil, difficulty, discouragement, opposition, defeat, failure, sickness, and utter weariness of mind and body, that was the sum of it. At first he had pleased the people and been absolute in the States; now only the three provinces he had wrested from Louis were unflinchingly loyal; the others had forced this peace upon him in spite of his passionate protests, his far-seeing judgment, his utter conviction of the folly of it. Charles had played with and deceived him when he might by so little have turned the scale in his favour. The English marriage, entered into with the one idea of gaining the English alliance of his country, had made him unpopular at home, and brought him no added power abroad. The army he had with such incredible labour brought together would be dispersed by order of the States, while Louis would keep his men under arms and in training ready for the next attack on the defenceless liberties of Europe. The frontier of Holland was in the hands of France, and he had no means to protect it; Spain was despoiled and supine, England more estranged than ever from the United Provinces since the fall of Danby. At the end of five years of labour the Prince saw all his task still to do if he was to accomplish his object, the preservation of the liberty and religion of his country.
Derniers mots
Informations provenant du Partage des connaissances anglais.Modifiez pour passer à votre langue.
“What are you going to do Prince,” he repeated, “now peace is signed?” “Plan another war,” said the Stadtholder, still looking at his wife.
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"Mr. Mompesson," said the King serenely, "do you believe in God?"The young man answered evenly: "Most assuredly, Sir."The King looked at him steadily out of dark clear eyes and smiled a little like one considering. "Any particular form or manner of God?" he asked, holding his olive-hued hands to the fire blaze.Bab Mompesson glanced up at his questioner. "I do not take your Majesty's meaning," he answered in a tone of hesitation.The King kept his soft yet powerful gaze fixed on the man before him as he replied in the smoothest accents of his pleasing voice: "If you believe in God and go no further, Mr. Mompesson, you are scarce the man I want. My Lord Buckingham, my Lord Arlington would say as much-at times. If you would serve me you must have a creed as well as a God.""I am of the Church of England, Sir," said Mr. Mompesson, "and zealous for the Reformed faith.""You mean that-honestly?" asked Charles Stewart slowly.Mr. Mompesson smiled now and returned the King's strong look strongly. "My father was of the Lord Cromwell's party as your Majesty knows-a dissenter-we have never favoured Popery."The King placed his dark hand on the crimson sleeve of the young man. "I have no wish to convert you to the Church of Rome," he smiled. "You are here because I heard from my brother that you were the most obstinate Puritan at the Admiralty, a man of old-fashioned virtues, Mr. Mompesson.""Sir, I hope his Highness cannot call me lacking in my duties," answered Bab Mompesson stiffly; but he slightly flushed under the continued scrutiny of the powerful dark eyes.The King rose from the tapestry chair with a graceful abruptness and looked down on the hearth where logs burnt to a clear gold flame; he leant against the mantle that bore the arms of England and France, and stared, not now at Bab Mompesson, but at the two tall, uncurtained windows.The sky was a foreboding grey, a few flakes of snow fluttered against its leaden depth; the trees and walks sloping down to Whitehall steps and the river swollen between its banks were bitten with frost and smitten with a keen wind.Mr. Mompesson, following the King's gaze, glanced at this prospect without interest, then took advantage of the silence to observe the King, whom he had never spoken with before this afternoon.
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I’m enjoying this trilogy very much. (