None entertain like the French; and the Duchess had, indeed, exhausted French art in turning the grand old place into a land of ravishing enchantment, with its many lights, its flowers, its works of art. Her abode was truly an enlivening scene, with its variety of maskers, bright dominoes and vizards.
The King was there and took a merry part in all the sport, although, beneath his swaggering abandon, there lurked a vein of sadness. He laughed heartily, he danced gaily, he jested with one and all; but his manner was assumed. The shrewdest woman’s eye could not have seen it; though she might have felt it. Brother James too enjoyed the dance, despite his piety; and Buckingham, Rochester and a score of courtiers beloved by the King entered mirthfully into the scene, applauding the Duchess’s entertainment heartily.
As the evening wore apace, the merry maskers grew merrier and merrier. In a drawing-room adjoining the great ball-room, a robber-band, none other than several gallants, whose identity was concealed by silken vizards, created huge amusement by endeavouring to steal a kiss from Lady Hamilton. She feigned shyness, then haughtiness, then anger; then she ran. They were after her and about her in an instant. There were cries of “A kiss!” “A kiss!” “This way!” “Make a circle or she’ll escape us!”
A dozen kisses so were stolen by the eager gallants before my lady broke away, stamping her foot in indignation, as she exclaimed:
“That there were no more, wench!” laughed Buckingham. “Marry, ’tis a merry night when Portsmouth reigns. Long live the Duchess in the King’s heart!”
“So you may capture its fairer favourite, friend Buckingham?” suggested the King, softly; and there was no hidden meaning in his speech, for the King suspected that Buckingham’s heart as well was not at Portsmouth’s and Buckingham knew that the King suspected it.
Buckingham was the prince of courtiers; he bowed low and, saying much without saying anything, replied respectfully:
“So I may console her, Sire, that she is out-beautied by France to-night.”
“Out-beautied! Not bidden, thou mean’st,” exclaimed the King, his thoughts roving toward Nelly’s terrace. Ah, how he longed to be there! “The room is close,” he fretted. “Come, gallants, to the promenade!”