Kenilworth - Page 379/408

High o'er the eastern steep the sun is beaming,

And darkness flies with her deceitful shadows;--

So truth prevails o'er falsehood.

--OLD PLAY.

As Tressilian rode along the bridge, lately the scene of so much riotous

sport, he could not but observe that men's countenances had singularly

changed during the space of his brief absence. The mock fight was over,

but the men, still habited in their masking suits, stood together in

groups, like the inhabitants of a city who have been just startled by

some strange and alarming news.

When he reached the base-court, appearances were the same--domestics,

retainers, and under-officers stood together and whispered, bending

their eyes towards the windows of the Great Hall, with looks which

seemed at once alarmed and mysterious.

Sir Nicholas Blount was the first person of his own particular

acquaintance Tressilian saw, who left him no time to make inquiries, but

greeted him with, "God help thy heart, Tressilian! thou art fitter for a

clown than a courtier thou canst not attend, as becomes one who follows

her Majesty. Here you are called for, wished for, waited for--no man but

you will serve the turn; and hither you come with a misbegotten brat on

thy horse's neck, as if thou wert dry nurse to some sucking devil, and

wert just returned from airing."

"Why, what is the matter?" said Tressilian, letting go the boy, who

sprung to ground like a feather, and himself dismounting at the same

time.

"Why, no one knows the matter," replied Blount; "I cannot smell it out

myself, though I have a nose like other courtiers. Only, my Lord of

Leicester has galloped along the bridge as if he would have rode over

all in his passage, demanded an audience of the Queen, and is closeted

even now with her, and Burleigh and Walsingham--and you are called for;

but whether the matter be treason or worse, no one knows."

"He speaks true, by Heaven!" said Raleigh, who that instant appeared;

"you must immediately to the Queen's presence."

"Be not rash, Raleigh," said Blount, "remember his boots.--For Heaven's

sake, go to my chamber, dear Tressilian, and don my new bloom-coloured

silken hose; I have worn them but twice."

"Pshaw!" answered Tressilian; "do thou take care of this boy, Blount; be

kind to him, and look he escapes you not--much depends on him."

So saying, he followed Raleigh hastily, leaving honest Blount with the

bridle of his horse in one hand, and the boy in the other. Blount gave a

long look after him.