On this, Xit took his cap, and waving an adieu to the royal party, all of whom looked much diverted with the scene, kicked his boots against the horse’s sides, and shouted, “Away with thee, Dædalus!—away!”
But though he continued the application with increased vigor, the horse would not stir, but emitted an angry snorting sound.
“Pest take him!” cried the dwarf. “He won’t move.”
“Methought thou hadst been aware of the secret,” rejoined Pacolet. “Turn the pin on his right shoulder, and he will move quickly enough.”
Xit followed the enchanter’s instructions, and Dædalus immediately began to glide through the opening in the parapet, not so quickly, though, but that his adventurous little rider was again enabled to wave his cap to the king. In another moment the dwarf had disappeared, and a hurried movement was made to the edge of the battlements to see what had become of him.
It was then perceptible to those nearest to the point of departure how the flight was to be accomplished. Two long pieces of wire, sufficiently strong to sustain the weight required, but nearly invisible at a short distance, were drawn across the moat from the bastion to the opposite bank, and along these wires the enchanted horse slipped, being guided in its descent by a cord fixed to its crupper—which cord was held by Pacolet. A large crowd was collected on the banks of the moat; but the spot where the wires were fastened down, and where it was expected the dwarf would descend, was kept clear by Og and half a dozen tall yeomen of the guard.
No sooner did Xit, mounted on the wooden horse, issue from the battlements, than a loud shout was raised by the beholders, to which the delighted dwarf responded by waving his hat to them, and he then commenced his downward course in the most triumphant manner. His exultation increased as he advanced; but it cost him dear. While replying to the cheers with which he was greeted, he leaned too much towards the left, and the horse immediately turned over, leaving his rider hanging head downwards over the moat.
The shouts of laughter were instantly changed to cries of affright, but no assistance could be rendered the unfortunate dwarf, for Pacolet vainly tried to pull him up again. The spectators, however, were not kept long in suspense. Xit’s struggles soon disengaged his legs from the boots, and he dropped headlong into the moat, and disappeared beneath the tide.
But rescue was at hand. With the utmost promptitude Og dashed into the fosse, and waded out to the spot where Xit had sunk, which was about the middle of the moat. Though the water quickly reached up to his shoulders, the giant went on until the head of the mannikin suddenly popped up beside him. With a shout of satisfaction Og then seized him, held him aloft like a dripping water-rat and bore him safely ashore, amid the laughter and acclamations of the beholders.
| Go to Table of Contents |
Chapter XVI
IN WHAT MANNER THE OBSEQUIES OF KING HENRY VIII. WERE CELEBRATED.—SHOWING HOW THE FUNERAL PROCESSION SET FORTH FROM THE PALACE AT WEST-MINSTER
The time appointed for placing the late king within the tomb now drew nigh, and as the obsequies were the most magnificent ever celebrated in this country, or perhaps in any other, we may be excused for dwelling upon them at some length; the rather, that besides presenting a very striking illustration of the customs of an age that delighted in shows and solemnities of all kinds, the extraordinary honors paid to Henry on his interment prove the estimation in which his memory was held by his subjects; and that notwithstanding the tyranny of his rule, he was regarded as a mighty monarch. By its unprecedented splendor, his burial worthily closed a reign which was one long pageant—a pageant for the most part gorgeous; sometimes gloomy, tragical, and even awful; but ever grand and imposing. Luckily, ample materials for accurate description are provided for us, and we shall avail ourselves freely of them, in order to present a full account of the most remarkable royal funeral on record.