"There is no court in the world," said he, after a little--"and there are few courts I have not seen--where such sports are carried to the height of luxury that they are here. I never saw the tournaments, the justs, the pageants of Henry the Eighth, King of England, excelled but once."
"And when was that, may I ask?" demanded Lady Constance, whose feelings towards the old man were strangely mingled of awe and curiosity, so much had she heard of him and his strange powers during her residence at the court.
"It was in Germany," replied Sir Cesar, "at the city of Ratisbon; and it was conducted as all such displays should ever be conducted. Each knight wore over his armour a motley suit, and on his casque a cap and bells; the hilt of his sword was ornamented with a bauble, and as they made procession to the lists, the court fools of all the electors in the empire followed behind the knights, and whipped them on with blown bladders."
"Nay, nay, you are a satirist," said Lady Constance; "such a thing, surely, could never happen in reality."
"In truth it did, lady," answered Sir Cesar; "it was called the Tournament of Fools, though I wot not to distinguish it from other tournaments, which are all foolish enough. Osborne," he continued, turning abruptly to the young knight, "you will ride no more at this court."
"How mean you?" demanded Sir Osborne: "why should I not?"
"I mean," replied the old man, "that I come to forewarn you of approaching evil. Perhaps you may turn it aside, but there is much that threatens you. Are you not losing time? The king's regard is gained; wherefore, then, do you delay? While Wolsey is absent--mark me! while Wolsey is absent--or you are lost for the moment."
"Oh! say not so," cried Lady Constance, clasping her hands; "oh! say not so, for I hear that he returns to-morrow."
"Fear not, lady," said Sir Cesar, who had now risen; "the danger will last but for a time, and then pass away. So that, whatever happens to either of you, let not your hearts sink; but be firm, steadfast, and true. All the advice I can give you is but the advice of an ordinary mortal like yourselves. Men judge rashly when they think that even those who see clearest can yet see clear. All that I know, all that I behold, is but a dim shadowing forth of what will be, like the indistinct memory of long gone years; a circumstance without a form. I see in both your fates an evil and a sorrowful hour approaching, and yet I cannot tell you how to avoid it; but I can descry that 'twill be but for a while, and that must console you."
"Good Sir Cesar," said the young knight, "I will ask you no questions, for I have now learned that you were a dear friend of my father, and I feel sure that you will give all knowledge that may be useful to me; and if you will tell me what is good to do in this conjuncture, I will follow it."