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bawdkin powdered with gold; hats on their heads of crimson velvet, with great
rolls of gold, girded with two swords, called simitars, hanging by great
bawdricks of gold. Next came yet another baron and another earl, in two long
gowns of yellow satin, traversed with white satin, and in every bend of white
was a bend of crimson satin, after the fashion of Russia, with furred hats of gray
on their heads; either of them having an hatchet in their hands, and boots with
pykes’ (points a foot long), ‘turned up. And after them came a knight, then the
Lord High Admiral, and with him five nobles, in doublets of crimson velvet,
voyded low on the back and before to the cannel-bone, laced on the breasts with
chains of silver; and, over that, short cloaks of crimson satin, and on their heads
hats after the dancers’ fashion, with pheasants’ feather in them.

These were appareled after the fashion of Prussia. The torch-bearers, which were
about an hundred, were appareled in crimson satin and green, like Moors, their
faces black. Next came in a mommarye. Then the minstrels, which were
disguised, danced; and the lords and ladies did wildly dance also, that it was a
pleasure to behold.’ And while Tom, in his high seat, was gazing upon this
‘wild’ dancing, lost in admiration of the dazzling commingling of kaleidoscopic
colors which the whirling turmoil of gaudy figures below him presented, the
ragged but real Little Prince of Wales was proclaiming his rights and his
wrongs, denouncing the impostor, and clamoring for admission at the gates of
Guildhall! The crowd enjoyed this episode prodigiously, and pressed forward
and craned their necks to see the small rioter. Presently they began to taunt him
and mock at him, purposely to goad him into a higher and still more
entertaining fury. Tears of mortification sprung to his eyes, but he stood his
ground and defied the mob right royally.

Other taunts followed, added mockings stung him, and he exclaimed: ‘I tell ye
again, you pack of unmannerly curs, I am the Prince of Wales! And all forlorn
and friendless as I be, with none to give me word of grace or help me in my
need, yet will not I be driven from my ground, but will maintain it!’ ‘Though
thou be prince or no prince ‘tis all one, thou be’st a gallant lad, and not friendless
neither! Here stand I by thy side to prove it; and mind I tell thee thou might’st
have a worser friend than Miles Hendon and yet not tire thy legs with seeking.
Rest thy small jaw, my child, I talk the language of these base kennel-rats like to
a very native.’ The speaker was a sort of Don Caesar de Bazan in dress, aspect,
and bearing.

He was tall, trim-built, muscular. His doublet and trunks were of rich material,
but faded and threadbare, and their gold-lace adornments were sadly tarnished;
his ruff was rumpled and damaged; the plume in his slouched hat was broken
and had a bedraggled and disreputable look; at his side he wore a long rapier in
a rusty iron sheath; his swaggering carriage marked him at once as a ruffler of
the camp. The speech of this fantastic figure was received with an explosion of
jeers and laughter. Some cried, ‘’Tis another prince in disguise!’ ‘’Ware thy
tongue, friend, belike he is dangerous!’ ‘Marry, he looketh it-mark his eye!’
‘Pluck the lad from him-to the horse-pond wi’ the cub!’ Instantly a hand was
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