“I cannot help it,” rejoined Mauger, gruffly. “I cannot amend my visage to please him. But though he turns away from me now in disgust, he will lack my aid hereafter. Two of the proudest of those who have just gone by shall mount Tower-hill one of these days in very different guise from that in which they are proceeding thither now.”
“Have done with thy croaking, thou bird of ill-omen!” exclaimed the yeoman, shuddering at his words.
“There goes a third!” cried Mauger, without heeding the remark.
“Why, that is the lord high admiral of England, his majesty’s favorite uncle,” observed his companion.
“What of that?” rejoined Mauger, with a grim look. “Greater than he have died by the axe. I tell thee it is his destiny to perish on Tower-hill. If thou liv’st long enough, thou wilt find my prediction verified.”
Disturbed by no dread of the future, but, on the contrary, full of high and ambitious hopes, Lord Seymour rode on by the side of the constable, his gay looks, affable manner, and splendid attire, contrasting strongly with the grave deportment and stern countenance of the latter.
Cannon thundered from the battlements of the fortress, and from the great ships moored in the river, as the king issued from the outer gate, and deafening cheers arose from the crowd assembled to see him pass by. All the streets through which the royal procession had to wend its way were railed to keep off the multitude, and gravelled to prevent the horses from slipping. Barriers also were erected at certain points.
Shaping its course along Tower Street, the cavalcade struck off on the right into Gracechurch Street, and passing through Lombard Street, reached Cornhill. As upon the occasion of Edward’s first entrance to the city, the fronts of the houses were hung with tapestry and rich stuffs. In Lombard Street especially, which was almost entirely inhabited by wealthy goldsmiths, there was a magnificent display of cloths of gold, silver, and other tissues.
Stages were erected for the different City companies, on which stood the wardens and their assistants in their gowns and liveries. Most of the companies had minstrels with them, but the best display was made by the Goldsmiths, who had a bevy of beautiful young maidens, dressed in white, and bearing silver branches containing burning tapers, ranged in front of their stage. Moreover, a pageant was exhibited by this company with which the young monarch appeared greatly pleased.
This was the manner of it. On a platform adjoining the stage just described, sat Saint Dunstan, the patron saint of the company, arrayed in a robe of white lawn, over which was a cope of bright cloth of gold hanging to the ground. The hoary locks of this saintly figure were crowned with a golden mitre set with topazes, rubies, emeralds, amethysts, and sapphires. In his left hand he held a crosier of gold, and in his right a large pair of goldsmith’s tongs, likewise of gold. Opposite the elevated seat occupied by Saint Dunstan was a forge, at which a workman was blowing with a huge pair of bellows. In another part, artificers were beating out plate with hammer and anvil, while a third party were employed in forging and shaping vessels of gold and silver. At the back there was an open cupboard filled with glittering cups and dishes, and near it a stand piled with ingots of costly metals. Then there were assayers, finers, and chasers; and finally, there was Beelzebub himself, who, after playing sundry diverting tricks with the artificers, was caught by the nose by Saint Dunstan’s golden tongs, and held captive for a time, roaring most lustily while so detained.
But this was not the only pageant prepared for the young king’s delectation. In Cheapside, not far from the Cross, where the lord mayor and aldermen, with the rest of the civic authorities, were assembled to give expression to their loyalty and devotion, was exhibited the device of a golden mountain, with a tree on the summit covered with fruit, like that grown, as poets feign, in the gardens of the Hesperides. On Edward’s approach, this golden mount, which was reared on a lofty stage, burst open, and a sylph-like figure in thin gauzy attire, attended by a number of little sprites, fantastically arrayed, issued from it. Having executed a merry dance upon the stage, these elfs retired with their queen, and the mountain closed upon them.