And soon the pale-face men came out, And halted by the wood, Their bright guns gleaming in their hands, Facing the hall they stood, While brave Sir John, like an armed knight, March’d forward and alone, And his errand and his company To Powhatan made known. He told him that his men had come King James’s gifts to bear, And that the captain of the sea Stood with his warriors there; And all things were in readiness, If it pleased his sovereign will, The high behest of great King James In the crowning to fulfil. A sharp glance then the monarch sent To the borders of the wood, And ask’d Sir John to point him out Where that sea-captain stood. And on him long and steadily He fix’d his eagle ken, To learn if that strange captain look’d Like other pale-face men. At last the monarch gave consent For the gifts to be convey’d To the council-hall: but only four Of the armed men should aid The captain and Sir John; the rest Should strictly be compell’d To stay beside the distant wood, While the royal rite was held. XIII. And now within the council-hall, And by the monarch’s throne, Around in rich profusion spread, The royal presents shone. There stood Sir John with four arm’d men, And the captain of the sea, But the monarch’s warriors in the hall Were a hundred men and three. The queens of twenty tribes appear, And in their midst they bring Two maidens bright to grace the scene, The daughters of the king. And there in his great dignity Sat Powhatan alone, In the broad circle that was made Around the monarch’s throne; And while his people peer’d and press’d Those splendid gifts to see, He never moved his princely eyes, But kept his dignity. And when Sir John the signal gave For the monarch to come down, And, standing by the throne, receive The robe of state and crown, With motion slow and lofty air He stepp’d upon the floor, And as he pass’d, with careless eye He glanced the presents o’er. XIV. Then took Sir John the robe of state And gave it to the king; And now with look of majesty He eyed the curious thing; And felt it o’er and o’er again-- As soft and fine it seems As any beaver’s fur that lives Beside his woodland streams. And much the color fills his eye; A shade so pure and bright, In any work of art before, Had never met his sight. And now the captain and Sir John The robe of state unfold, With outstretch’d arms and lifted hands Aloft the fabric hold; And while the monarch’s noble form They wrap the vesture round, Its many broad and shining folds Sweep gracefully the ground. Stately the monarch walks the hall And turns from side to side, And all his men and warriors stand And look with awe and pride. XV.