Darnley; or, The Field of the Cloth of Gold

by G. P. R. James

"Take care what you say, William," whispered he; "that knight, with whom I find Master Wilmotswood quarrelled about touching the armour, is some great man, depend on it. The duke sent me away, and then he embraced him, and hugged him, as he had been his brother; and the old controller, who saw him go by, nods and winks, as if he knew who he is, and says that we shall see whether he does not dine at the first table, ay, and near his grace, too, for all his old gray doublet. Hast thou found out his name?"

"No," replied the other. "His knave is as close as a walnut, and does not scruple to break his jests on any one, so I'll have no more of him."

Their farther conversation was interrupted by a yeoman of the kitchen presenting himself at the door of the hall, and a cry of "Sewers, sewers!" made itself heard, giving notice that the noon repast was nearly ready to be placed upon the table. The scene was at once changed amongst the servants, and all was the bustle of preparation; the sewers running to serve the dinner, the yeomen of the hall and the butler's men making speed to take their places in the banquet room, and the various pages and servants of different gentlemen residing in the manor hurrying to wait on their masters at the table.

In the midst of this, our friend Longpole felt some doubt what to do. Unacquainted with what had passed between his master and the duke, and even whether the knight had made known his real rank or not, Longpole did not well know where to bestow himself. "'Ods life!" said he, after fidgeting for a moment on the thorns of uncertainty, "I'll e'en take my chance, and go to the chief hall. I can but walk into the next, if my young master does not show himself soon. Ho! youngster," he continued to a page he saw running by, "which is the way to the lord's hall?"

"Follow, follow, quick!" cried the boy; "I'm going there to wait for my Lord Abergany, and we are too late."

Longpole lost no time, and arrived in the hall at the moment the controller was arranging the different servants round the apartment. "Stand you here, Sir Charles Poynder's man; why go you higher than Sir William Cecil's? Sir William is a banneret. Harry Mathers, you keep there. You, Jim, by that cupboard. And who are you? Who is your master, tall fellow?" he continued, addressing Longpole.

"Oh! the gentleman that is with the duke," cried several of the servants; "the gentleman that is with the duke."

"Why, I know not where he will sit," said the controller; "but wait about, and stand behind his chair. Now, are yon all ranged? Bid the trumpets sound."

A loud flourish gave notice to the sewers to serve, and to the various guests to descend to the hall, when in a few minutes appeared Lord Abergany and Lord Montague, and one by one dropped in Sir William Cecil, Sir Charles Poynder, and several other knights, who, after the various salutations of the morning, fell into groups of two and three, to gossip out the long five minutes which must pass while the controller informed the duke that the first dish was placed upon the table.

In the mean while honest Longpole stood by, too anxious to know the reception his lord had met with even to jest with those around him; but instead, he kept examining all the splendid scene, the rich cloth of estate placed for the duke, the various cupboards of magnificent plate, the profusion of Venice glasses, and all the princely furnishing of the hall and table, with feelings nearly allied to apprehension. At length the voice of the controller was heard crying "The duke! the duke! Make way there for the duke!" and in a moment after the Duke of Buckingham entered, leaning with familiar kindness on the arm of the young knight.