"Silence, Sir George, I command you;" and Sir George retreated to his former place beside the Earl of Derby. Dorothy first removed her bodice, showing her shoulders and a part of her arms, clothed in the fashion of a tavern maid.
Leicester, who stood by me, whispered, "God never made anything more beautiful than Mistress Vernon's arms."
Sir George again spoke angrily, "Doll, what are you doing?" But the queen by a wave of her hand commanded silence. Then the girl put her hands behind her, and loosened the belt which held her skirt in place. The skirt fell to the floor, and out of it bounded Dorothy in the short gown of a maid.
"You will be better able to judge of me in this costume, cousin," said Dorothy. "It will be more familiar to you than the gowns which ladies wear."
"I will retract," said Leicester, whispering to me, and gazing ardently at Dorothy's ankles. "God has made something more beautiful than Mistress Vernon's arms. By Venus! I suppose that in His omnipotence He might be able to create something more beautiful than her ankles, but up to this time He has not vouchsafed to me a vision of it. Ah! did any one ever behold such strength, such perfect symmetry, such—St. George! the gypsy doesn't live who can dance like that."
Sure enough, Dorothy was dancing. The pipers in the balcony had burst forth in a ribald jig of a tune, and the girl was whirling in a wild, weird, and wondrous dance before her lover-cousin. Sir George ordered the pipers to cease playing; but again Elizabeth, who was filled with mirth, interrupted, and the music pealed forth in wanton volumes which flooded the gallery. Dorothy danced like an elfin gypsy to the inspiring strains. Soon her dance changed to wondrous imitations of the movements of a horse. She walked sedately around in an ever increasing circle; she trotted and paced; she gave the single foot and racked; she galloped, slowly for a while, and then the gallop merged into a furious run which sent the blood of her audience thrilling through their veins with delight. The wondrous ease and grace, and the marvellous strength and quickness of her movements, cannot be described. I had never before thought the human body capable of such grace and agility as she displayed.
After her dance was finished she stepped in front of her cousin and delivered herself as follows:—
"I am sound from ear tip to fetlock. There is not a blemish in me."
"No, by my faith, I will swear there is not!" cried the Earl of Leicester.
"I have good wind," continued Dorothy, "two good eyes. By night or by day I can see everything within the range of my vision, and a great deal that is not. I shy, at times, when an uncouth object suddenly comes upon me. I am warranted gentle if properly handled, but otherwise it is unsafe to curry my heels."