The Panchronicon Part 53

The remainder of the procession consisted of a train of court ladies all dressed in white and nearly dest.i.tute of ornaments. Evidently the Royal Virgin would suffer no rivalry in dress from those of her own s.e.x.

Just behind Elizabeth and to one side, in such a position as to be within easy reach for consultation, walked the Lord High Treasurer, William Cecil, Baron of Burleigh. It was to this n.o.bleman that his nephew, Francis Bacon, had addressed the letter which he had given to Copernicus Droop.

By dint of much squeezing and pus.h.i.+ng, Sir Percevall made his way to the front of the waiting line, and, as Elizabeth approached, he dropped painfully to his knees, and, with hat in hand, gazed earnestly into the Queen's face, not daring to speak first, but with a pet.i.tion writ large in every feature.

Now, Elizabeth was most jealous of her dignity, and valued her own favors very highly. In her eyes it was downright impertinence at a time like this for anyone to solicit the honor of her attention by kneeling before he was noticed.

Knowing this, Burleigh, who recognized the knight and wished him well, motioned to him earnestly to rise. Alarmed, Sir Percevall made a desperate effort to obey the hint, and, despite his huge bulk, would perhaps have succeeded in regaining his feet without attracting the notice of the Queen but for the impatient movement of the crowd behind him. Unfortunately, however, he had but half risen when the bustling mult.i.tude moved forward a little against his expansive rear. The result was disastrous.

Sir Percevall lost his balance, and, feeling himself toppling, threw his hands out forward with a cry and fell flat on his face.

Elizabeth was at this moment addressing a few gracious words to a white-haired courtier, who kneeled among those gathered on the right of her line of progress. Startled by the loud cry of the falling knight, she turned swiftly and saw at her feet a man of monstrous girth struggling in vain to raise his unwieldy form. His plumed hat had rolled to some distance, exposing a bald head with two gray tufts over the ears. His sword stood on its hilt, with point in air, and his short, fat legs made quick alternate efforts to bend beneath him--efforts which the fleshy knees successfully resisted.

The helpless, jerking limbs, the broad, rolling body, and the mixture of expletives and frantic apologies poured forth by the prostrate knight turned the Queen's first ready alarm to irrepressible laughter, in which the bystanders joined to their great relief. Droop alone was grave, for he could only see in this accident the ruin of his plans.

"Now, by the rood!" cried the Queen, as soon as she could speak distinctly, "fain would we see your face, good gentleman. Of all our subjects, not one doth us such low obeisance!" Then, beckoning to those of her gentleman pensioners who stood nearest:

"Raise us yon mighty subject of ours, whose greatness we might in our majesty brook but ill did not his humble bearing proclaim a loyal submission."

Four gentlemen, dropping their gilt axes, hastened to Sir Percevall's aid, raising him by the arms and shoulders.

"Enough--enough, lads!" cried the knight, when they had got him to his knees. "Let it not be said that Sir Percevall Hart dared to tempt erect the dreadful glance of majesty. Here let him lowly bend beneath the eyes that erstwhile laid him low."

Still holding him, the four gentlemen turned their eyes to the Queen for orders, and Sir Percevall, clasping his mud-stained hands, addressed himself directly to Elizabeth, in whose still laughing face he foresaw success.

"O Majesty of England!" he cried. "Marvel not at this my sudden fall--for when, with more than royal glory is linked the potency of virgin loveliness, who can withstand!"

"Why, how now, Sir Knight!" said Elizabeth, banteringly. "Are we less lovely or less awful now than a moment since? You seem at least one half restored."

"Nay, your Majesty," was the reply. "'Tis his sovereign's will and high command that stiffens poor Percy's limbs, and in obedience only that he finds strength to present his suit."

"A suit!" she exclaimed. "Pride cometh before a fall, 'tis said. Then, in sooth, by the rule of contraries, a fall should presage humility's reward. What says my Lord Baron?"

She turned to Burleigh, who smiled and, bowing, replied:

"So witty a flight to so sound a conclusion Cecil could not have winged alone, but where majesty teacheth wisdom, who shall refuse it!"

"'Tis well!" said Elizabeth, more soberly. "Rise, Sir Knight, and, when that we have supped, seek audience again. An the pet.i.tion be in reason, 'twill not suffer for the fall you have had."

With this speech, Sir Percevall's first audience ended, and it was with a happy face that he suffered himself to be helped to his feet by the four gentlemen who had first been sent to his aid.

As the Queen resumed her progress and entered the apartments wherein she was to prepare for her evening meal, there resounded through the palace the ringing notes of trumpets and the musical booming of a kettle-drum.

In a large antechamber immediately outside of the room where the Queen was to sup there was placed a splendidly carved table of black oak, and here were made all the preparations for her repast, accompanied by the usual ceremonies.

Moving to the sound of trumpets and drum, two gentlemen entered the room, the first bearing a rod and the second a table-cloth. Advancing one behind the other, they kneeled three times between the door and table, apparently expressing the deepest veneration. Having spread the table, they retired backward, not forgetting to repeat the genuflections as performed on their approach.

These first two were followed immediately by two other gentlemen, the first with a rod and the other carrying a salt-seller, plates, and bread. These articles were carried to the table with the same ceremony as had attended the spreading of the cloth.

Next there entered a young lady, whose coronet indicated the rank of countess and whose uncovered bosom proclaimed the unmarried state. She was accompanied by a married lady of lower rank, carrying a knife. The Countess rubbed the plates with bread and salt, and then the two ladies stood awhile by the table, awaiting the arrival of the supper.

Finally there entered, one at a time, twenty-four yeomen of the guard, the tallest and handsomest men in the royal service, bareheaded and clothed in scarlet coats, with roses embroidered in gold thread on their backs. Each yeoman carried a separate special dish intended for the royal repast, and, as each approached the table, the lady with the knife cut off and placed in his mouth a portion of the food which he was carrying. After depositing their dishes upon the table, the yeomen departed and the maids of honor then approached and carried the dishes into the inner room, where the Queen sat at her supper.

Of all those who thus advanced to the table and departed walking backward, none omitted the reverent kneelings, nor did anyone concerned in all this ceremony speak a word until it was concluded. Although the Queen was actually absent, in fiction she was present, and it was to this fiction that so much reverence was paid.

Shortly after the commencement of these preparations, Droop and his guide appeared among other pet.i.tioners and other lookers-on around the doorways. Copernicus carried his phonographic apparatus, but the bicycle had been left in the court-yard in the care of a man-at-arms.

"Jiminy!" said Droop, looking curiously about him, "ain't this A No. 1, though! Et must be fun to be a queen, eh, Percevall?"

"To speak truly, my lad," said the knight, "there is something too much of bravery and pomp in the accidents of royalty. What! Can a king unbend--be merry--a good fellow with his equals? No! And would you or I barter this freedom for a crown?" He shook his head. "Which think you pa.s.sed the merrier night--or the Queen (G.o.d's blessing on her) or you and I?"

Droop paid little heed to his companion, for his eyes were busy with the unwonted scene before him.

"Well, now!" he exclaimed. "Look there, Sir Knight. See how the old lady digs out a piece o' that pie and pokes it into that lord's mouth! He must be mighty hungry! I'm darned ef I'd thought they'd hev let him hev his grub before the Queen--and out of her own dish, too!"

"Nay, Brother Droop," said the Englishman, "this custom hath its origin in the necessary precaution of our sovereign. Who knows but that poison be in this food! Have not a score of scurvy plots been laid against her life? 'Tis well to test what is meant for the use of majesty."

Droop whistled low.

"Thet's the wrinkle, eh?" he said. "I don't guess I'd be much tempted to take a job here as a taster, then! h.e.l.lo!" he said. "Why, they're takin'

the victuals out o' the room. What's that fer? Did they find p'ison in 'em?"

Sir Percevall did not reply. His attention had been caught by the arrival of a strangely dressed woman, apparently attended by six maids of honor.

Turning to a gentleman at his elbow:

"Can you tell me, sir," he said, "who is yonder stranger in outlandish apparel?"

Following the speaker's eyes, the gentleman stared for a few moments and then replied:

"Marry, sir, it can but be the American princess with her retinue. They say that her Majesty much affects this strange new-comer."

It was, indeed, Rebecca who, in response to an invitation brought by a page in the Queen's livery, was on the way to take supper with Elizabeth. On her arrival at the anteroom door, an attendant went in before the Queen to announce her presence; and, while awaiting admission, Rebecca gazed about her with a curiosity still unsatisfied.

"There, now," she was saying, "'twas suttenly too bad to send you off on a wild-goose chase, Miss Margaret. Ef you could hev found the man, I'd hev ben glad, though."

At that very moment, a voice close beside her made her start violently.

"Well--well! I declare! Rebecca Wise, how do you do!"

She turned and saw him of whom she was at that moment speaking, and lo!

to her amazement, it was Copernicus Droop who held out his right hand.

"Copernicus Droop!" she gasped. Then, remembering her adventure of the previous day, she went on coldly, without noticing the proffered hand: "Ye seem right glad to see me _now_, Mr. Droop."

Droop was taken aback at her manner and at the sarcastic emphasis laid upon the word "now."

"Why--why--of course," he stammered. "I thought you was lost."