Michel and Angele [A Ladder of Swords] — Volume 2Parker, Gilbert
History
Michel and Angele [A Ladder of Swords] — Volume 2
Parker, Gilbert
Great Britain -- History -- Elizabeth, 1558-1603 -- Fiction; Huguenots -- Fiction; Jersey (Channel Islands) -- Fiction
This eBook was produced by David Widger
MICHEL AND ANGELE
[A Ladder of Swords]
By Gilbert Parker
Volume 2.
CHAPTER VIII
Five minutes later, Lempriere of Rozel, as butler to the Queen, saw a
sight of which he told to his dying day. When, after varied troubles
hereafter set down, he went back to Jersey, he made a speech before the
Royal Court, in which he told what chanced while Elizabeth was at chapel.
"There stood I, butler to the Queen," he said, with a large gesture,
"but what knew I of butler's duties at Greenwich Palace! Her Majesty had
given me an office where all the work was done for me. Odds life, but
when I saw the Gentleman of the Rod and his fellow get down on their
knees to lay the cloth upon the table, as though it was an altar at
Jerusalem, I thought it time to say my prayers. There was naught but
kneeling and retiring. Now it was the salt-cellar, the plate, and the
bread; then it was a Duke's Daughter--a noble soul as ever lived--with a
tasting-knife, as beautiful as a rose; then another lady enters who
glares at me, and gets to her knees as does the other. Three times up
and down, and then one rubs the plate with bread and salt, as solemn as
St. Ouen's when he says prayers in the Royal Court. Gentles, that was a
day for Jersey. For there stood I as master of all, the Queen's butler,
and the greatest ladies of the land doing my will--though it was all
Persian mystery to me, save when the kettle-drums began to beat and the
trumpet to blow, and in walk bareheaded the Yeomen of the Guard, all
scarlet, with a golden rose on their backs, bringing in a course of
twenty-four gold dishes; and I, as Queen's butler, receiving them.
"Then it was I opened my mouth amazed at the endless dishes filled with
niceties of earth, and the Duke's Daughter pops onto my tongue a mouthful
of the first dish brought, and then does the same to every Yeoman of the
Guard that carried a dish--that her notorious Majesty be safe against the
hand of poisoners. There was I, fed by a Duke's Daughter; and thus was
Jersey honoured; and the Duke's Daughter whispers to me, as a dozen other
unmarried ladies enter, 'The Queen liked not the cut of your frieze
jerkin better than do I, Seigneur.' With that she joins the others, and
they all kneel down and rise up again, and lifting the meat from the
table, bear it into the Queen's private chamber.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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