mad, forgot the favour of his own countenance that he had known
for sixty years, and held it was another’s; nay, even claimed he
was the son of Mary Magdalene, and that his head was made of
Spanish glass; and, sooth to say, he suffered none to touch it,
lest by mischance some heedless hand might shiver it? Give thy
misgivings easement, good my lord. This is the very prince–I
know him well–and soon will be thy king; it may advantage thee to
bear this in mind, and more dwell upon it than the other.”
After some further talk, in which the Lord St. John covered up his
mistake as well as he could by repeated protests that his faith
was thoroughly grounded now, and could not be assailed by doubts
again, the Lord Hertford relieved his fellow-keeper, and sat down
to keep watch and ward alone. He was soon deep in meditation, and
evidently the longer he thought, the more he was bothered. By-
and-by he began to pace the floor and mutter.
“Tush, he MUST be the prince! Will any he in all the land
maintain there can be two, not of one blood and birth, so
marvellously twinned? And even were it so, ’twere yet a stranger
miracle that chance should cast the one into the other’s place.
Nay, ’tis folly, folly, folly!”
Presently he said–
“Now were he impostor and called himself prince, look you THAT
would be natural; that would be reasonable. But lived ever an
impostor yet, who, being called prince by the king, prince by the
court, prince by all, DENIED his dignity and pleaded against his
exaltation? NO! By the soul of St. Swithin, no! This is the
true prince, gone mad!”
Chapter VII. Tom’s first royal dinner.
Somewhat after one in the afternoon, Tom resignedly underwent the
ordeal of being dressed for dinner. He found himself as finely
clothed as before, but everything different, everything changed,
from his ruff to his stockings. He was presently conducted with
much state to a spacious and ornate apartment, where a table was
already set for one. Its furniture was all of massy gold, and
beautified with designs which well-nigh made it priceless, since
they were the work of Benvenuto. The room was half-filled with
noble servitors. A chaplain said grace, and Tom was about to fall
to, for hunger had long been constitutional with him, but was
interrupted by my lord the Earl of Berkeley, who fastened a napkin
about his neck; for the great post of Diaperers to the Prince of
Wales was hereditary in this nobleman’s family. Tom’s cupbearer
was present, and forestalled all his attempts to help himself to
wine. The Taster to his highness the Prince of Wales was there
also, prepared to taste any suspicious dish upon requirement, and
run the risk of being poisoned. He was only an ornamental
appendage at this time, and was seldom called upon to exercise his
function; but there had been times, not many generations past,
when the office of taster had its perils, and was not a grandeur
to be desired. Why they did not use a dog or a plumber seems
strange; but all the ways of royalty are strange. My Lord d’Arcy,
First Groom of the Chamber, was there, to do goodness knows what;
but there he was–let that suffice. The Lord Chief Butler was
there, and stood behind Tom’s chair, overseeing the solemnities,
under command of the Lord Great Steward and the Lord Head Cook,
who stood near. Tom had three hundred and eighty-four servants
beside these; but they were not all in that room, of course, nor
the quarter of them; neither was Tom aware yet that they existed.
All those that were present had been well drilled within the hour
to remember that the prince was temporarily out of his head, and
to be careful to show no surprise at his vagaries. These
‘vagaries’ were soon on exhibition before them; but they only
moved their compassion and their sorrow, not their mirth. It was
a heavy affliction to them to see the beloved prince so stricken.
Poor Tom ate with his fingers mainly; but no one smiled at it, or