“How could you do otherwise if you lived there?” “I’ll show your Grace,” and without more ado, to the horror of Cicely, Thomas tumbled from his sack all his hellish garb and set to work to clothe himself. In a minute, for he was practised at the game, the hideous mask was on his head, and with it the horns and skin of the widow’s billy-goat; the tail and painted hides were tied about him, and in his hand he waved the eel spear, short-handled now. Thus arrayed he capered before the astonished King and Queen, shaking the tail that had a wire in it and clattering his hoofs upon the floor. “Oh, good devil! Most excellent devil!” exclaimed his Majesty, clapping his hands. “If I had met thee I’d have run like a hare. Stay, Jane, peep you through yonder door and tell me who are gathered there.” The Queen obeyed and, returned, said-- “There be a bishop and a priest, I cannot see which, for it grows dark, with chaplains and sundry of the lords of Council waiting audience.” “Good. Then we’ll try the devil on these devil-tamers. Friend Satan, go you to that door, slip through it softly and rush upon them roaring, driving them through this chamber so that we may see which of them will be bold enough to try to lay you. Dost understand, Beelzebub?” Thomas nodded his horns and departed silently as a cat. “Now open the door and stand on one side,” said the King. Cromwell obeyed, nor had they long to wait. Presently from the hall beyond there rose a most fearful clamour. Then through the door shot the bishop panting, after him came lords, chaplains, and secretaries, and last of all the priest, who, being very fat and hampered by his gown, could not run so fast, although at his back Satan leapt and bellowed. No heed did they take of the King’s Majesty or of aught else, whose only thought was flight as they tore down the chamber to the farther door. “Oh, noble, noble!” hallooed the King, who was shaking with laughter. “Give him your fork, devil, give him your fork,” and having the royal command Bolle obeyed with zeal. In thirty seconds it was all over; the rout had come and gone, only Thomas in his hideous attire stood bowing before the King, who exclaimed-- “I thank thee, Thomas Bolle, thou hast made me laugh as I have not laughed for years. Little wonder that thy mistress was condemned for witchcraft. Now,” he added, changing his tone, “off with that mummery, and, Cromwell, go, catch one of those fools and tell them the truth ere tales fly round the palace. Jane, cease from merriment, there is a time for all things. Come hither, Lady Harflete, I would speak with you.” Cicely approached and curtseyed, leaving her boy in the Queen’s arms, where he had gone to sleep, for she did not seem minded to part with him.