“Beshrew me,” said the stripling in a low but ardently earnest tone, as, having looked to their horses, they parted for the night--“beshrew me if the heads of the Londoners are not turned with all this babble and noise about Prince Louis, and Robert Fitzwalter, and Constantine Fitzarnulph. My patience begins to give way.”
“Heed them not,” replied the yeoman in a similar tone; “it is because Louis and his friends are the stronger party, and for no other reason. It is ever the way of the vulgar to follow those, no matter what their worth, whom Fortune favours, and despise those on whom she frowns, as I have learned to my bitter experience. See you, when the royal cause flourishes again they will shout as lustily for the king. Mayhap even we may yet be the heroes of popular song. Marry, less likely things have come to pass in changeful times.”
“May the saints forefend!” exclaimed the stripling, smiling; “for, certes, I should then conclude that we were in the wrong. I remember me of the story which tells that when the Greek orator was loudly applauded by the multitude, the philosopher chid him. ‘Sir,’ added the philosopher, ‘if you had spoken wisely, these men would have showed no signs of approbation.’”
Next morning, the yeoman and the stripling rose betimes, broke their fast, crossed London Bridge, and mingled with the crowd--pressing, surging, and swaying--that cheered and welcomed Louis, who that day charmed all hearts by his great affability and his very gracious condescension. Nothing, indeed, could have exceeded the enthusiasm of the citizens and populace of London when the French prince, crossing London Bridge, entered the city; “for,” says the chronicler, “there was nothing wanting in the salutations of the flattering people, not even that barbarous Chaire Basileus, which is, ‘Hail, dear lord.’”
The yeoman of Kent and his young comrade did not add their voices to the music of the hour. Perhaps they were too stupid to comprehend fully what was taking place. However, they certainly did seem to make the best use of their eyes. They entered the church of St. Paul’s while the citizens were doing homage and swearing allegiance, and they followed the long and brilliant cavalcade of prelates, and nobles, and knights, conspicuous among whom were Hugh de Moreville and Sir Anthony Waledger, when they conducted the French prince to Westminster; for here a similar ceremony was to be performed in the Abbey, which then stood very much as it had been left by Edward the Confessor--to wit, in the form of a cross, with a high central tower, and as it had been consecrated on the Christmas of 1065, when the saint-king lay dying in the Painted Chamber.