ance towards the throne. It
is a sight sometimes seen, and it is both ludicrous and pitiable; when
an honest man of plain common sense is surprised, by the coquetry of a
pretty woman, or any other cause, into those frivolous fopperies
which only sit well upon the youthful, the gay, and those to whom long
practice has rendered them a second nature. Poor Blount was in this
situation. His head was already giddy from a consciousness of unusual
finery, and the supposed necessity of suiting his manners to the gaiety
of his dress; and now this sudden view of promotion altogether completed
the conquest of the newly inhaled spirit of foppery over his natural
disposition, and converted a plain, honest, awkward man into a coxcomb
of a new and most ridiculous kind.

The knight-expectant advanced up the hall, the whole length of which he
had unfortunately to traverse, turning out his toes with so much zeal
that he presented his leg at every step with its broadside foremost,
so that it greatly resembled an old-fashioned table-knife with a curved
point, when seen sideways. The rest of his gait was in proportion
to this unhappy amble; and the implied mixture of bashful rear and
self-satisfaction was so unutterably ridiculous that Leicester's friends
did not suppress a titter, in which many of Sussex's partisans
were unable to resist joining, though ready to eat their nails with
mortification. Sussex himself lost all patience, and could not forbear
whispering into the ear of his friend, "Curse thee! canst thou not walk
like a man and a soldier?" an interjection which only made honest Blount
start and stop, until a glance at his yellow roses and crimson stockings
restored his self-confidence, when on he went at the same pace as
before.

The Queen conferred on poor Blount the honour of knighthood with a
marked sense of reluctance. That wise Princess was fully aware of the
propriety of using great circumspection and economy in bestowing those
titles of honour, which the Stewarts, who succeeded to her throne,
distributed with an imprudent liberality which greatly diminished their
value. Blount had no sooner arisen and retired than she turned to the
Duchess of Rutland. "Our woman wit," she said, "dear Rutland, is sharper
than that of those proud things in doublet and hose. Seest thou, out of
these three knights, thine is the only true metal to stamp chivalry's
imprint upon?"

"Sir Richard Varney, surely--the friend of my Lord of Leicester