Much of this mad Englishman’s discourse was comprised of fantasy and comic tales. By the time he had consumed a liberal quantity of wine, which to a less commodious nature must have been a source of inconvenience, he kept the good King Louis in a perpetual state of laughter. It was the same with his royal consort. Indeed, grievous to relate, the Count of Nullepart subsequently made the accusation against Sir Richard Pendragon that he was the only person of his acquaintancy at the French court who was capable of bringing the blush of modesty to the cheek of the Queen-Mother. In despite of this, Sir Richard Pendragon had great success on that memorable evening; and I think he was the envy of more than one ambitious courtier who had spent his life in flattering princes. Certainly no man could have been in a situation to admire himself more, and certainly no man could have been better equipped by nature to render to himself that office. Owing to the manner in which fortune had smiled that evening upon our leader, he awaited the King’s decision with the greatest complacency. He assured the Count of Nullepart “that by the inner light of the mind he saw himself already at the head of those ten thousand Gauls.” And further, having once seen himself in the place of a great captain, by an additional process of the imagination which I believe is a curious quality in which his countrymen are highly gifted, he saw himself as the future king of the Spains. After his success at the King’s board, Sir Richard invaded my sleeping-chamber that night in the palace, and regaled me until the dawn with the bright future that lay before us. Once the King of France gave over ten thousand men to his leadership, he showed in what manner he, Richard Pendragon, knight of England, with the blood of kings under his doublet, would crush the proud Castilian by the virtue of deep strategy and the power of the understanding. About the hour the golden daylight had begun to stream through the shutters of our royal lodging, the English giant had had himself crowned by the Archbishop of Seville; he had led to the altar the Countess Sylvia, who, he said, after due consideration of the merits of Betty Tucker, his accomplished countrywoman, was in some ways the more fitted to be the royal consort if he were called to the Spanish monarchy; and further, he had conferred great place in his household upon the Count of Nullepart and myself, being good enough to declare that we could be trusted to fill it worthily.