All was strange to Philip—the quaint and picturesque architecture of the habitations, the manners, and to some extent the very dresses of the people. But though he was amused by the novelty of the scene, the rudeness, noisy talk, boisterous merriment, and quarrels of the common folk, were by no means to his taste. Naturally, his own arrival in the harbour and expected disembarkation on the morrow formed the universal topics of discourse, and he heard remarks upon himself and his nation, such as he had not hitherto conceived that any one would venture to utter. Little did the heedless talkers imagine that the haughty-looking stranger, with his face closely muffled in his mantle, who passed them in the street, or lingered for a moment beneath a porch to watch their proceedings, was the Prince of Spain. Well was it, indeed, for Philip that he was not recognised, since there were some discontented folk abroad that night who might not have held his royal person sacred. Philip took no notice of his opprobrious discourse to his conductor, who would fain have shut his ears to it, but he said within himself, “I begin to understand these people. They are insolent, audacious, and rebellious. Alva was right. They must be ruled with an iron hand.” As he walked along, the Prince glanced through the open windows into the dining-chambers of some of the larger houses, and seeing the tables covered with flasks and flagons, and surrounded by guests, whose condition proclaimed that they had been drinking deeply, he inquired of Osbert whether his countrymen usually committed such excesses? “They are somewhat prone to conviviality, I must admit,” replied the young man. “But joy at your Highness’s safe arrival has doubtless made them carouse longer than their wont to-night. Besides, there are many strangers in the town, and the hospitality of the Southampton merchants knows no limit.” Whether this explanation was entirely satisfactory to the Prince may be doubted, but he made no further remark. By this time, Philip and his conductor had arrived within a short distance of Holyrood Church. An arch had here been thrown across the street, which some young women were decorating with flowers and ribbons; while a knot of apprentices, in jerkins of grey or russet serge and flat caps, were superintending their operations, and holding torches for them. All at once a great shouting was heard in the upper part of the street, whereupon the maidens suspended their task, and called out gleefully to the youths that Sir Bevis and Ascapart were coming. At this intimation the apprentices drew back, and with some others of the townsfolk who were assembled there, ranged themselves on either side of the arch.