“Haven’t you seen my face on the gold pieces?”
“I? I never had any gold pieces!” giving the king his covering.
Now he could go boldly to the castle of Rogus. Despite the early hour, there was a crowd waiting at the gate. They were whispering. The King recognized his servile courtiers. They avoided him. They did not want his dirty covering to touch their fine clothes. The King struck the door with his fist.
“Open! I command in the name of the King!”
The watchman by the door laughed. “Poor fool!” Morus began to implore. “Don’t you recognize me? My well beloved subjects, look at me! I am your ruler.”
Laughter was his answer.
“Kabul, you to whom last week I gave a fortune, why are you silent? And you—Niles—whom I lifted from poverty, can you deny me?”
Neither Kabul nor Niles knew the King.
“Ungrateful men!” he raged. “Where is the mistress? Where is Florilla? She will recognize me.”
At this moment the herald of the King came out. Upon his lifted spear he bore a head—the head of Florilla.
She could recognize him no more. She was silent forever. The golden hair fluttered about the beautiful head, and covered part of the long spear. The people shouted with joy. The King sorrowfully demanded who had done this. No one answered, but he soon found out. The herald read a proclamation, then nailed it to the door, so that all could see that it had the
