This speech being concluded, his lordship exhibiting a gracious aspect of favourable acceptation, advanceth further towards Guildhall, but is civilly obstructed by another scene, and in regard, his lordship is a merchant, and his company merchant-tailors, the Third Triumphal Scene, or Pageant, is a ship called the Patience, with masts and sails, fully rigged and manned, the captain whereof addresseth to my lord a speech beginning,—

What cheer, my lord? I am return’d from sea,
To amplifie your day of Jubilee,
In this tried vessel, &c.

His lordship having surveyed the ship, and the trumpets sounding, he continueth his determined course toward Guildhall, but by the way is once more obstructed by another scene, called the Palace of Pleasure, which is a triumphal ionic arch of excellent structure, where, in distinct and perspicuous situations, sitteth nine beautiful and pleasant ladies, whose names, natures, and ornaments are consentaneous, 1. Jollity, 2. Delight, 3. Fancy, 4. Felicity, 5. Wit, 6. Invention, 7. Tumult, 8. Slaughter, 9. Gladness; all of them properly enrobed and adorned; and to augment their delight, there are several persons properly habited, playing on sundry loud instruments of music, one of which, with a voice as loud and as tunable as a treble hautboy, chanteth out a Ditty in commendation of the Merchant-tailors’ Trade, commencing thus,

Of all the professions that ever were nam’d
The Taylers though slighted, is much to be fam’d:
For various invention and antiquity,
No trade with the Taylers compared may be:
For warmth and distinction and fashion he doth
Provide for both sexes with silk, stuff, and cloth:
Then do not disdain him or slight him, or flout him,
Since (if well consider’d) you can’t live without him.
But let all due praises (that can be) be made
To honour and dignifie the Taylers trade.

When Adam and Eve out of Eden were hurl’d,
They were at that time king and queen of the world:
Yet this royal couple were forced to play
The Taylers, and put themselves in green array;
For modesty and for necessity’s sake
They had figs for the belly, and leaves for the back
And afterward clothing of sheep-skins they made
Then judge if a Tayler was not the first trade,
The oldest profession; and they are but railers,
Who scoff and deride men that be Merchant-Taylers.

This song, containing five more verses, being ended, the foot-marshal places the assistants, livery, and the companies on both sides of King’s-street, and the pensioners with their targets hung on the tops of the javelins; in the rear of them the ensign-bearers; drums and fifes in front; he then hastens the foins and budge-bachelors, together with the gentlemen ushers, to Guildhall, where his lordship is again saluted by the artillerymen with three volleys more, which concludes their duty. His land attendants pass through the gallery or lane so made into Guildhall; after which the company repairs to dinner in the hall, and the several silk-works and triumphs are likewise conveyed into Blackwell-hall; and the officers aforesaid, and the children that sit in the pageants, there refresh themselves until his lordship hath dined. At the dinner in Guildhall, his lordship and the guests being all seated, the city music begin to touch their instruments with very artful fingers. Their ears being as well feasted as their palates, and a concert lesson or two succeeding, “a sober person with a good voice, grave humour, and audible utterance, proper to the condition of the times,” sings a song called The Protestants’ Exhortation, the burden whereof is, Love one another, and the subject against the catholics. The song being ended, the musicians play divers new airs, which having done, three or four “habit themselves according to the humour of the song,” and one of them chanteth forth The Plotting Papist’s Litany, in ten stanzas, the first of which ends with

Joyntly then wee ’l agree,
To sing a Litany,
And let the burden be,
Ora pro nobis.

In the year 1688, the second mayoralty of sir Thomas Pilkington, who being of the skinners’ company, a pageant in honour of their occupation, consisted of “a spacious wilderness, haunted and inhabited with all manner of wild beasts and birds of various shapes and colours, even to beasts of prey, as wolves, bears, panthers, leopards, sables, and beavers; likewise dogs, cats, foxes, and rabbits, which tossed up now and then into a balcony fell oft upon the company’s heads, and by them tossed again into the crowd, afforded great diversion; melodious harmony likewise allayed the fury of the wild beasts, who were continually moving, dancing, curvetting, and tumbling to the music.”

On the alteration of the style, the swearing in of the lord mayor and the accompanying show, which had been on the 29th of October, was changed to the 9th of November. The speeches in the pageants were usually composed by the city poet, an officer of the corporation, with an annual salary, who provided a printed description for the members of the corporation before the day. Settle, the last city poet, wrote the last pamphlet intended to describe a lord mayor’s show; it was for sir Charles Duncombe’s, in 1708, but the prince of Denmark’s death the day before, prevented the exhibition. The last lord mayor who rode on horseback at his mayoralty was sir Gilbert Heathcote in the reign of queen Anne.