“Knighthood at your majesty’s hands,” supplied Xit.
“How shall we name thee?” demanded Mary.
“Narcissus Le Grand,” replied the dwarf. “I am called familiarly Xit. But it is a designation by which I do not desire to be longer distinguished.”
Mary took the sword from Sir John Gage, and placing it upon the dwarf’s shoulder, said, “Arise, Sir Narcissus.”
The new-made knight immediately obeyed, and making a profound reverence to the queen, was about to retire, when she checked him.
“Tarry a moment, Sir Narcissus,” she said. “I have a further favour to bestow upon you.”
“Indeed!” cried the dwarf, out of his senses with delight. “I pray your majesty to declare it.”
“You will need a dame,” returned the queen.
“Of a truth,” replied Sir Narcissus, tenderly ogling the bevy of beauties behind the throne, “I need one sadly.”
“I will choose for you,” said the queen.