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His is the demesne with the high tower of burnt bricks, near the west end of Tower Street. But stay! 'Twere better you did seek him at the Boar's Head Tavern in Eastcheap." "Sir Percevall Hart Boar's Head Eastcheap. That's in London City, I s'pose." "Yes yes," said Bacon, impatiently. "Any watchman or passer-by will direct you. Now, sir, 'tis for you to fulfil your promise."
Droop stuttered, quickly extending the member in question. "Nay, your Majesty in sooth, no my hand beeth all right!" "We learn from the Lord Treasurer," said Elizabeth, addressing Sir Percevall, "that your petition hath reference to a monopoly. Know you not, Sir Knight, that these be parlous days for making of new monopolies?
Still holding him, the four gentlemen turned their eyes to the Queen for orders, and Sir Percevall, clasping his mud-stained hands, addressed himself directly to Elizabeth, in whose still laughing face he foresaw success. "O Majesty of England!" he cried. "Marvel not at this my sudden fall for when, with more than royal glory is linked the potency of virgin loveliness, who can withstand!"
Someone touched his elbow and, turning, he saw Sir Percevall, with the light of triumph on his fat face. "Fortune's smiles have turned to mere laughter, my lad," he said, chuckling. "This American princess hath the Queen's good-will. How the fiend's name came you acquainted?" In the inner chamber, Elizabeth was seated at a small table, at the opposite end of which sat Rebecca.
Not every man hath admittance to him, I promise ye. As for me, why, God 'ild you, man! 'twas but yesterday a fortnight Burleigh slapped me o' the shoulder and said: 'Percevall, ye grow fat, you rogue on the word of a Cecil! Oh, trust me, Master Droop; my lord much affects my conversation!" "Is that a fact?" said Droop, admiringly.
Sir Percevall followed his friend's movements with a careful eye and imitated him as exactly as possible, but he did not escape a coughing fit, from which he emerged with a purple face and tear-filled eyes. "Have another?" said Droop, cheerfully. "A plague on queezy gullets!" growled the knight.
Guido, frightened half to death, slipped unobserved out of a side door, and was never seen at Greenwich again. Nor has that fatal newspaper been heard from since. "What may that be, Sir Percevall?" the Queen inquired at length, settling back in her chair as comfortably as her ruff would permit. "This, my liege, is the phonograph," said the knight, straightening himself proudly.
Four gentlemen, dropping their gilt axes, hastened to Sir Percevall's aid, raising him by the arms and shoulders. "Enough enough, lads!" cried the knight, when they had got him to his knees. "Let it not be said that Sir Percevall Hart dared to tempt erect the dreadful glance of majesty. Here let him lowly bend beneath the eyes that erstwhile laid him low."
By dint of much squeezing and pushing, Sir Percevall made his way to the front of the waiting line, and, as Elizabeth approached, he dropped painfully to his knees, and, with hat in hand, gazed earnestly into the Queen's face, not daring to speak first, but with a petition writ large in every feature. Now, Elizabeth was most jealous of her dignity, and valued her own favors very highly.
"Oh, all right!" cried Droop, turning away. "Hold hold! Not so fast!" cried Sir Percevall. But Copernicus merely slapped his hat on his head and started toward the door. Sir Percevall leaned over the table in flushed desperation. "Listen, friend!" he cried. "Wilt make a jolly night of it in the bargain?" Droop stopped and turned to his companion. "D'ye mean right now?" A nod was the reply.
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