HOW THE PRINCE HEARD HIGH MASS IN HOLYROOD CHURCH;
AND HOW HE ONCE MORE BEHELD SIR BEVIS AND HIS
COMPANIONS.
Amid the thunder of cannon, the ringing of bells, the beating of drums,
the braying of trumpets, the clash of cymbals, the waving of scarves and
kerchiefs, accompanied by joyous acclamations, Philip entered
Southampton by the Water-gate.
Bending lowly in return for the clamorous welcome given him by the
occupants of the gallery adjoining the gate, the Prince continued to bow
gracefully right and left as he rode slowly up the street. Philip was
never seen to greater advantage than on horse-back, and his stately
figure now commanded universal admiration. As he went on, he descried
many a comely damsel at the windows, but she he most desired to behold
was not visible.
Passing through the triumphal arch reared across the streets, which, now
that it was completed, had a charming effect, he dismounted at the
Gothic porch of Holyrood Church, near which the English nobles were
ranged to receive him.
Internally, the church presented an imposing appearance, being richly
decorated for the occasion. The aisles were densely crowded, but the
broad nave was kept clear, and along it a crimson cloth was stretched.
The pillars were also covered with embroidered cloths, and ornamented
with paintings. Superb vessels of gold and silver, chalices, reliquaries
and pixes, decked the altar, above which stood an image of the Virgin,
then but newly set up. Large tapers burnt on either side. Priests and
deacons in their stoles, with white-robed choristers and
incense-bearers, filled the chantry.
As Philip, preceded by the Bishop of Cuença and Father de Castro, and
followed by a splendid train of English and Spanish nobles, marched
along the nave, the priests advanced to meet him, while the air was
filled with fragrance. At the same time the roof resounded with jubilant
symphonies. A large velvet cushion had been placed on the right of the
altar for the Prince, and on this he knelt down, while the English and
Spanish nobles grouped themselves on either side. Mass was then
solemnised, the Bishop of Cuença and Father de Castro officiating with
the English priests.
On issuing from the church, Philip was greeted with loud acclamations
from the crowd, which he graciously acknowledged. Mounting his jennet,
and attended by a gallant train, consisting of the English and Spanish
nobles, he proceeded along High Street towards the Bar-gate, where he
was told by the Earl of Arundel that a pageant awaited him.
The same manifestations of popular satisfaction that had hitherto
attended him continued during this part of his course, and no untoward
incident occurred to mar the general harmony.
On approaching the Bar-gate, Philip perceived beneath its archway the
gigantic Sir Bevis of Southampton, armed as he had appeared on the
previous night, and seated on his mighty charger Arundel. Royal Canute
was stationed on the right of the puissant champion, and savage Ascapart
on the left. Behind were the Moorish kings.
Thus placed, the gigantic figures had a very picturesque effect, and
harmonised well with the ancient structure. A trumpet being sounded, a
fancifully-attired dwarf issued from a postern in one of the flanking
towers, and strutted towards the Prince.
“Who art thou, and what is thy business?” demanded Philip, as the dwarf
made him a very ceremonious obeisance.
“My name may perchance have reached your Highness’s ears,” replied the
mannikin, proudly. “I am called Sir Narcissus le Grand, and am
one—perchance not the least distinguished—of her Majesty’s attendants.”
“I am aware that her Majesty has a dwarf to divert her,” replied the
Prince, laughing. “But I fancied the diminutive valet’s name differed
from thine.”
“There is no other dwarf but myself in her Majesty’s household,”
returned the mannikin. “Before I received the honour of knighthood, I
was called Xit, and I am still occasionally so designated by those who
are on familiar terms with me.”
“That name has brevity to recommend it, and therefore suits thee better
than the other,” observed the Prince.
“Nay, an your Highness thinks so, I am ready to resume the appellation.
Xit is a name of which I have no reason to be ashamed, seeing I have
ever borne it with honour. Perchance your Highness designs some
distinction for me. The Cross of Santiago, or the Toison d’Or, would not
be ill bestowed.”
“By Saint Anthony! a modest proposition!” exclaimed Philip. “I marvel
thou dost not ask to be made a grandee of the first class.”
“That is indeed my ambition,” replied Xit. “I shall then be privileged
to remain covered in your Highness’s presence, like the proud lords I
see yonder. But, though dazzled by the thought, I must not forget the
business in hand, which is to acquaint your Highness that the Knight of
Southampton, the redoubted Sir Bevis, with his slave Ascapart, and the
regal Canute, all of whom you behold under yon archway, welcome you to
England, and shout with me ‘God save Prince Philip!’”
“God save Prince Philip!” vociferated the three giants in concert.
“Thanks for the welcome,” replied Philip. “Your pageant is good, but it
lacks its chief character. Where is the Princess Josyan?—she should be
with Sir Bevis.”
“Highness,” said Xit, somewhat embarrassed, “there are two princesses,
and since they cannot agree as to which shall take precedence, it was
deemed best that neither should appear. They are within the Bar-gate. If
you desire it, they can be summoned.”
“Bring forth the youngest and fairest of them,” rejoined Philip.
Xit bowed, and hastened to execute the Prince’s command.
In another instant he reappeared, leading by the hand a comely young
damsel, attired in a kirtle of green velvet, and having a glittering
caul on her head, in whom Philip was at no loss to recognise the captive
made by Sir Bevis on the previous night. A bright blush suffused her
cheeks, serving to heighten the effect of her charms, but otherwise she
did not seem much abashed, but tripped gaily with her little conductor
towards the Prince.
“Highness,” said Xit, as he presented her, “in this damsel, ordinarily
known as Lilias Ringwood, you behold the Princess Josyan.”
Scarcely were the words uttered, than a lattice, immediately above the
central arch of the Bar-gate, was thrown open, and an angry female face
appeared.
“’Tis false!” screamed Lady le Grand, for she it was—“’tis false, I say!
I am the real Princess Josyan, and no one shall usurp the part. I am
shut up here under lock and key, or I would soon strip that vile hussy
of her attire, which belongs of right to me. Doff it at once, minion.”
“Retire on the instant, I command you, Madam,” screamed Xit, shaking his
hand furiously at her.
“I shall obey no orders of thine, thou contemptible little monster,”
rejoined Lady le Grand, in a shrill voice. “Let me out, or it shall be
worse for thee. How dare you put another woman in my place? Lilias
Ringwood shall not enact the part assigned to me.”
“Marry, but she shall,” rejoined Xit. “His Highness desired that the
youngest and fairest of the two claimants should be brought forth. Thou
art neither so young nor so lovely as Lilias, and art consequently
superseded. Retire, I say.”
Before Lady le Grand could make any further rejoinder, Philip
interposed.
“But what says Sir Bevis himself?” he demanded. “Since he is chiefly
concerned in the matter, the choice of a princess ought to rest with
him. Methinks he cannot hesitate.”
“Assuredly not, your Highness,” rejoined the gigantic warrior, inclining
his head. “I am right glad of the exchange.”
“Then take fair Lilias to him,” said Philip. “Remember the fate of the
strong man of Israel,” he added to Sir Bevis, “and be not subdued like
him. Otherwise, thou mayst have reason to repent thy choice.”
“No Delilah shall enslave me, your Highness,” rejoined the giant, as the
damsel was placed behind him by Ascapart.
“That remains to be seen,” laughed Lilias, as she settled herself on the
pillion.
Mortified by the success of her young rival, Lady le Grand retreated
from the window, amid the jeers and laughter of the beholders, all of
whom were mightily entertained by the incident.
No sooner was this important point settled, than Sir Bevis rode forth
from the archway with the fair Lilias behind him, her countenance
radiant with triumph. Bending in knightly fashion to the Prince, the
gigantic warrior bade his companions attend him, and struck into a
street on the right. Calling for his piebald steed, Xit followed the
procession, without troubling himself further about Lady le Grand.
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