CHAPTER IX
THE COMING OF ELIZABETH
The days that followed were full of bustle and activity. The officers of the household scoured the country far and near to secure provisions and delicacies sufficient for the queen and her retinue. Game, droves of bullocks, sheep, hogs and great hampers of groceries filled the larders to overflowing. Near and remote neighbors and kinsmen embraced the opportunity to send contributions. No man knew when his own time might come and sympathized accordingly. The queen was not tolerant of any but a royal reception, and a visit, while an honor, was not always an unmixed blessing; as many an impoverished nobleman could testify.
Hugh Greville, the tutor, was overjoyed at her coming, and, as master of the pageants preparing for the amusement of the queen, assumed a pompous importance greatly at variance with his usual manner. 91
“We must have a play, my lord,” he said to Lord Stafford who was for the moment idle. “Her Majesty doth take delight in a play. This to be preceded by an address in Latin. Latin, my lord, because the queen is learned, and deference should be paid to her knowledge. The welcome to be spoken by a boy.”
“Have what thou wilt, Greville, so that it will please the queen,” returned the nobleman. “I had word from my Lord of Leicester this morning that his mummers accompanied Elizabeth in her progress. They will give the play with more of satisfaction, I trow, than any of the strolling players who have come hither. The address of welcome could be managed, but what boy couldst thou get to deliver it? Boys there be in plenty, but boys with Latinity——” and he shrugged his shoulders.
“Had your lordship only a son,” sighed Greville regretfully, “it would be right fitting for him to give the speech. I myself would write it. ’Twould only need to be conned well. Ah, would that thou hadst a son!”
“Gramercy!” spoke Francis overhearing 92 the tutor’s speech. “Hath he not a daughter? I will give thy harangue, Master Greville.”
“Nay;” and the old man shook his head positively. “’Twill not do, Francis. The Queen’s Majesty would relish it more if ’twere spoken by a lad. Her heart inclineth to them. A pretty lad, for she loves beauty. Marry! ’tis pity thou art a girl!”