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.