horse-guards
and a retinue of courtiers, and accompanied by a vast crowd. On
alighting from the coach the Duke of Tuscany, together with the noblemen
and gentlemen of his household, received and conducted him through
passages lighted by torches to the banquet-hall. From the ceiling of
this saloon was suspended a chandelier of rock crystal, blazing with
tapers; beneath it stood a circular table, at the upper end of which was
placed a chair of state for the king. The whole entertainment was costly
and magnificent. As many as eighty dishes were set upon the table;
foreign wines, famous for great age and delicate flavour, sparkled in
goblets of chased gold; and finally, a dessert of Italian fruits and
Portuguese sweetmeats was served. But scarce had this been laid upon the
board, when the impatient crowd which had gathered round the house and
forced its way inside to witness the banquet, now violently burst
into the saloon and carried away all that lay before them. Neither the
presence of the king nor the appearance of his soldiers guarding the
entrance with carbines was sufficient to prevent entrance or hinder
pillage. Charles, used to such scenes, left the table and retired into
the duke's private apartments.

A quaint and curious account of a less ceremonious and more convivial
feast, also graced by the king's presence, was narrated by Sir Hugh
Cholmely to a friend and gossip. This supper was given by Sir George
Carteret, a man of pleasant humour, and moreover treasurer of the navy.
By the time the meats were removed, the king and his courtiers waxed
exceedingly merry, when Sir William Armorer, equerry to his majesty,
came to him and swore, "'By God, sir,' says he, 'you are not so kind
to the Duke of York of late as you used to be.' 'Not I?' says the king.
'Why so?' 'Why,' says he, 'if you are, let us drink his health.' 'Why,
let us,' says the king. Then he fell on his knees and drank it; and
having done, the king began to drink it. 'Nay, sir,' says Armorer; 'by
God, you must do it on your knees!' So he did, and then all the company;
and having done it, all fell acrying for joy, being all maudlin and
kissing one another, the king the Duke of York, the Duke of York the
king; and in such a maudlin pickle as never people were."

Throughout this reign the uttermost hospitality and good-fellowship
abounded. Scarce a day passed that some noble house did not throw open
its doors to a brilliant throng of guests; few nights gre