When Knighthood Was in Flower: or, the Love Story of Charles Brandon and Mary Tudor the King's Sister, and Happening in the Reign of His August Majesty King Henry the EighthMajor, Charles
History
When Knighthood Was in Flower: or, the Love Story of Charles Brandon and Mary Tudor the King's Sister, and Happening in the Reign of His August Majesty King Henry the Eighth
Major, Charles
Great Britain -- History -- Henry VIII, 1509-1547 -- Fiction; Historical fiction; Love stories; Mary, Queen, consort of Louis XII, King of France, 1496-1533 -- Fiction; Suffolk, Charles Brandon, Duke of, approximately 1484-1545 -- Fiction
Then on the counter parte, entered a Straunger, fyrst on
horsebacke in a long robe of Russet satyne, like a recluse or a
religious, and his horse trapped in the same sewte, without dromme
or noyse of mynstrelsye, puttinge a byll of peticion to the Quene,
the effect whereof was, that if it would please her to license hym
to runne in her presence, he would do it gladly, and if not, then
he would departe as he came. After his request was graunted, then
he put off hys sayd habyte and was armed at all peces with ryche
bases & horse, also rychely trapped, and so did runne his horse to
the tylte end, where dieurs men on fote appareiled in Russet satyn
awaited on him. Thereupon the Heraulds cryed an Oyez! and the
grownd shoke with the trompe of rushynge stedes. Wonder it were to
write of the dedes of Armes which that day toke place, where a man
might haue seen many a horse raysed on highe with galop, turne and
stoppe, maruaylous to behold. C.xiv staves were broke and the
kynge being lusty, he and the straunger toke the prices.
When the queen had given the stranger permission to run, and as he
moved away, there was a great clapping of hands and waving of
trophies among the ladies, for he was of such noble mien and comely
face as to attract the gaze of every one away from even the glittering
person of his majesty the king.
His hair, worn in its natural length, fell in brown curls back from
his forehead almost to the shoulder, a style just then new, even in
France. His eyes were a deep blue, and his complexion, though browned
by exposure, held a tinge of beauty which the sun could not mar and a
girl might envy. He wore neither mustachio nor beard, as men now
disfigure their faces--since Francis I took a scar on his chin--and
his clear cut profile, dilating nostrils and mobile, though firm-set
mouth, gave pleasing assurance of tenderness, gentleness, daring and
strength.
I was standing near the queen, who called to me: "Who is the handsome
stranger that so gracefully asked our license to run?"
"I can not inform your majesty. I never saw him until now. He is the
goodliest knight I have ever beheld."
"That he is," replied the queen; "and we should like very much to know
him. Should we not, ladies?" There was a chorus of assent from a dozen
voices, and I promised, after the running, to learn all about him and
report.
It was at this point the heralds cried their "Oyes," and our
conversation was at an end for the time.
As to height, the stranger was full six feet, with ample evidence of
muscle, though no great bulk. He was grace itself, and the king
afterwards said he had never seen such strength of arm and skill in
the use of the lance--a sure harbinger of favor, if not of fortune,
for the possessor.
After the jousting the Princess Mary asked me if I could yet give her
an account of the stranger; and as I could not, she went to the king.
I heard her inquire:
"Who was your companion, brother?"
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