"Oh! that changes the case," cried Longpole; "I crave your highness's pardon. I did not know your grace;" and he bent his knee to the king.
Francis drew his sword, and laid it on the yeoman's shoulder; then striking him three light blows, he said, "In the name of God, our Lady, and St. Denis, I dub thee knight. Avance, bon chevalier! Noble or not noble, from this moment I make you such."
Longpole rose, and the king turned to the young Hainaulter, who, sitting near, and supporting himself by his sword, had looked on with longing eyes. "No one of my gallant defenders must be forgotten," said Francis. "Knighthood, my good youth, will hardly pay your wound."
"Oh, yes, yes!" cried Frederick, eagerly; "indeed it will, your highness, more than repay it."
"Then be it so," replied the king, knighting him. "However, remember, fair knights, that Francis of France stints not here his gratitude, or you may think him niggard of his thanks. We will have you all go with us, and we will find better means to repay your timely aid. I know not, sir," he continued, turning to Sir Osborne, and resuming the more familiar first person singular, "whether I heard your battle-cry aright, and whether I now see the famous Lord Darnley, the knight of Burgundy, who, in wars now happily ended, often turned the tide of battle in favour of the emperor." Sir Osborne bowed his head. "Then, sir," continued Francis, "I will say, that never did monarch receive so much injury or so much benefit from the hand of one noble adversary."
CHAPTER XXXIV.
We talk, in ladies' chambers, love and news.--Cowley.
All was bustle and preparation at the court of England; for the two most magnificent monarchs of the world were about to contend with each other, not with the strife of arms, nor by a competition of great deeds, but in pomp, in pageant, and in show; in empty glitter and unfruitful display. However that may be, the palace and all its precincts became the elysium of tailors, embroiderers, and sempstresses. There might be seen many a shadowy form gliding about from apartment to apartment, with smiling looks and extended shears, or armed with ell-wands more potent than Mercury's road, driving many a poor soul to perdition, and transforming his goodly acres into velvet suits with tags of cloth of gold.
The courts of the king's palace of Bridewell rang from morning till night with the neighing of steeds, the clanking of harness, and the sound of the trumpet; and the shops and warehouses of London were nearly emptied of gold, jewels, and brocade. Men and women were all wild to outdo their French equals in splendour and display; and, in short, the mad dog of extravagance seemed to have bitten all the world.
In a small room in the palace, not far from the immediate apartments of the queen, sat a very lovely girl, whom the reader has not spoken to for a long time: no other than Lady Katrine Bulmer, who, with a more pensive air than was usual with her, sat deep in the mysteries of bibs and tuckers, chaperons and fraisies, mantuas and hanging sleeves, which last had, for the moment, regained their ascendancy in the public taste, and were now ornamented with more extraordinary trimmings than ever.