Lowering brows, and whispered curses of "Nan Bullen" from the citizens' wives followed the new Queen on her way; for to them she stood for war against the Emperor in the behoof of France, for harassed trade and lean larders, and, above all, for defiance of the religious principles that most of them held sacred; and they hated the long fair face with which, or with love philtres, she had bewitched the King. The very pageants ostensibly raised in her honour contrived in several cases to embody a subtle insult. At the Gracechurch corner of Fenchurch Street, where the Hanse merchants had erected a "merveilous connyng pageaunt," representing Mount Parnassus, with the fountain of Helicon spouting racked Rhenish wine all day, the Queen's litter was stayed a space to listen to the Muses playing "swete instrumentes," and to read the "epigrams" in her praise that were hung around the mount. But Anne looked aloft to where Apollo sat, and saw that the imperial eagle was blazoned in the place of honour, whilst the much-derided bogus arms of the Boleyns lurked in humble guise below;[101] and for many a day thenceforward she was claiming vengeance against the Easterlings for the slight put upon her. As each triumphal device was passed, children dressed as angels, or muses, were made to sing or recite conceited phrases of dithyrambic flattery to the heroine of the hour. There was no grace or virtue of which she was not the true exemplar. Through Leadenhall and Cornhill and so to Chepe, between lines of liveried citizens, Anne's show progressed. At the cross on Cheapside the Mayor and corporation awaited the Queen; and the Recorder, "Master Baker," with many courtly compliments, handed her the city's gift of a thousand marks in a purse of gold, "which she thankfully received." That she did so was noted with sneering contempt by Katharine's friends. "As soon as she received the purse of money she placed it by her side in the litter: and thus she showed that she was a person of low descent. For there stood by her at the time the captain of the King's guard, with his men and twelve lacqueys; and when the sainted Queen had passed by for _her_ coronation, she handed the money to the captain of the guard to be divided amongst the halberdiers and lacqueys. Anne did not do so, but kept them for herself."[102] St. Paul's and Ludgate, Fleet Street and Temple Bar, all offered their official adulation, whilst the staring people stood by dumb. Westminster Hall, into which Anne's litter was borne for the feast, was richly hung with arras and "newly glazed." A regal throne with a canopy was set on high for Anne, and a great sideboard of gold plate testified to the King's generosity to his new wife. But after she had changed her garments and was welcomed with open arms by Henry at his new palace of Westminster, her disappointment broke out. "How like you the look of the city, sweetheart?" asked the King. "Sir," she replied, "the city itself