Seers and monks also preached on street corners, but were generally ignored.
This great holiday was framed in only a few weeks, since word of the King’s death and Clayborne’s rebellion came to the city, & though there was some confusion & shortages here and there, such was the good humor of the crowd that all mishaps were forgotten.
I ate my fill for the first time since that last absurd banquet in Amberstone, & being full of cheer decided to scale the hill to the great palace, & view the Queen at her meat.
The castle, like much of the city, is of white sandstone, and ornamented with carvings, vines & fruit & fantastical animals, all so abundant that the keep looks as if it were swathed in lace. Everywhere is seen the triton of Fornland, the griffon of Bonille, & the red horses of the Emelins. Faces of gods & zephyrs gaze down from the corners, and in one tower live a tribe of howlets, who looked down at the banqueters with their great staring eyes.
The royal party was at a great table set out in the inner ward, & the crowd of gawkers, your correspondent among them, shuffled along from one gate to another. The Queen spoke little but seemed pleased with the day, though she spared a few glances for the young man who served her, beautifully dressed in blue & silver, his doublet aglitter with diamond studs. The divorced Queen, Berlauda’s mother Leonora, sat by her daughter’s elbow, & “triumph sat on her brow,” as the poet saith. She looked upon the banquet, the castle, & the throng as if all belonged to her, & perhaps it does.
The little princess Floria was at the Queen’s left, & like her sister said little, but watched everyone with bright, sparrow-like eyes. Floria’s mother, the divorced Queen Natalie, sat by her & talked without cease.
Around them were the nobility, who are of course relatives of the Queen, & amid them Their Graces of Roundsilver, who seemed friends with all, though of course I know not the relations between the members of this family, or whether or not any member, behind a pleasant-seeming face, was thinking of dropping poison into his neighbor’s cup.
They were eating swans, if you please, which birds were presented roasted, but yet fully dressed in their feathers. I don’t know the trick of it.
After I had my glimpse of our nation’s charming family, I descended into the town again, & participated once more in the revels. I had my freedom to celebrate, & my lodging in a palace, & a fortune, & I was of a mind to let the world know of my joy.
I had found my way to a little square, & beneath the chestnut trees I met a maiden, apprenticed to a milliner, she flown in wine & inclined to be merry. I offered her the most civil attention until her brother, for some reason vexed, came & fetched her away.
Have I mentioned to you the inconvenience of brothers? Here is another example.
It was the weather, & not the night, that put an end to the celebration. For clouds had loured down upon the city, & now began to drench the streets with a great storm. Summer, which had lingered long over our country, had turned to winter in but a few hours, & I was thankful that the storm had not caught me on the road. And so I made my way back to the duke’s palace & to my room, where I found my fortune where I had left it, lit a fire, and slept warm beneath a blanket of scratchy wool.
In the morning, I broke my fast with the guests of my lord the duke, friends & members of his affinity, some from the Ethlebight or elsewhere in the West. These knew nothing of the fate of our city, & it was my task to give them the despairing news. I fear I caused many of them great distress, for I knew not the fate of their friends and relatives.
The meals in the great hall are served with a magnificence I had not imagined. Before the meal, we go to the Table of the Ewer, where the Yeoman of the Ewery helps us wash our hands in clean, scented water. Then we go to the cup-board, where we are each presented with a beautiful blown-glass cup brimming with wine—we each have a cup, rather than share a cup with four or five people. And when we are seated, we each have a linen napkin, rather than have to share a surnap. We each have our own fork and spoon, though of course we bring all our own knives.
Yet there is not much to do with our knives, for there is the Carving-Board, where three Master Carvers cut our meat before servants bring it to the table. (I have to say I would have done a better job.)
The duke and his bride seem v. much in love. They are forever touching, or holding hands, or offering one another compliments. It is v. pleasing to see them together.
Afterward the duke took me into his cabinet, a room which he has filled with his treasures. There are small delicate statues carved of alabaster or chalcedony, medals & caskets in gold & silver, enameled & ornamented with mythological figures, miniature portraits set in precious frames, cameo figures of old kings, ancient coins cleaned & mounted for display, rare minerals, porcelains brought from the furthest east, & the bones of beasts and monsters. The coffer ceiling is painted a deep blue, with golden figures astrological, & beneath it hangs a stuffed cockatrice, its feathers hanging limp, its death-dealing eyes now replaced by glass.
I could have spent half a day viewing the contents of the room, but even on brief inspection I could discern the duke’s tastes, which sit in the most extravagant realms of high emotion. The small statues are for the most part of naked athletes or warriors caught in the extremes of triumph or desolation, & the medallions on the precious caskets are of kings dying of mortal wounds or Queens in the final agonies of suicide. The subject matter is extravagant beyond reason, but the work is fashioned in the most perfect & exacting style, by masters of their craft.
I do not know whether this is the epitome of taste here in the capital, or merely a predisposition of my lord the duke.
The duke, for his part, showed extravagance only in his dress, which was of a brilliant green silken robe wrapped about his body & painted all over with fruits & vines & dripping red hearts. He wore also pointed slippers & a kind of turban with tassels. I believe this is a costume for the duke at home & not the fashion, for no one else dressed in this style.
His grace showed none of his whimsy or extravagance when he interviewed me, but was v. grave and courteous when he asked me for my report. I presented to him everything I knew of the attack on the city, all the names & numbers I had gathered for use by the Embassy Royal. He asked what the city most needed, and I said not food, for the corsairs plundered the warehouses but left the granaries alone, but that soldiers were needed + supplies for rebuilding + money for ransoms. He shook his head and said that money & soldiers were going for the war, but that he would give freely from his own coffers, & urge his friends to do the same. He also said he would exert himself to create some manner of committee, or association, to raise & bring aid to the city.
I also told him of Basil of the Heugh, & how he had taken Lord Utterback and Stayne captive, and I told him of Stayne’s circumstances & intentions as I understood them. (And here is another matter best not mentioned in a letter.)
Then the duke rose & said he & the duchess must dress to go to court, where he would do what he could for us, & he left me at liberty. So I took my heavy pack with me, & first thing bought a purse, & then filled it with silver. I walked through rain to the Guild Hall of the Worshipfull Societie of Butchers, where I found many of that sodality taking a blithe holiday—for it may be a festival for the multitude when a meal is given to the city, but for the Butchers it is work, & now that the city is returned to its normal life, the Butchers have a day of leisure.