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T Jerusalem, Ithought it time to say my prayers. There was naught but kneeling andretiring. Now it was the salt-cellar, the plate, and the bread; then itwas a Duke's Daughter--a noble soul as ever lived--with a tasting-knife,as beautiful as a rose; then another lady enters who glares at me, andgets to her knees as does the other. Three times up and down, and thenone rubs the plate with bread and salt, as solemn as St. Ouen's when hesays prayers in the Royal rape gallery Gentles, that was a day for Jersey. Forthere stood I as master of all, the Queen's butler, and the greatestladies of the land doing my will--though it was all Persian mystery tome, save when the kettle-drums began to beat and the trumpet to blow, andin walk bareheaded the Yeomen of the Guard, all scarlet, with a goldenrose on their backs, bringing in a course of twenty-four gold dishes; andI, as Queen's butler, receiving them.
The Duke's Daughter whispers to me, as a dozen otherunmarried ladies enter, 'The Queen liked not the cut of your friezejerkin better than do I, Seigneur.' With that she joins the others, andthey all kneel down and rise up again, and lifting the meat from thetable, bear it into the Queen's private chamber.
Emselves Iknow not, but I heard Leicester's name, and I guessed that they weremostly in the pay of his soft words. But the Duke's Daughter was on myside, as was proved betimes when Leicester made trouble for us who wentfrom Jersey to plead the cause of injured folk. Of the Earl's enmity tome--a foolish spite of a great nobleman against a Norman-Jerseygentleman--and of how it injured others for the moment, you all know; rape gallery had him by the heels before the end of it, great earl and favourite ashe was." |
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