Chapter VII. Tom's first royal dinner.

Somewhat after one in the afternoon, Tom resignedly underwent the ordeal

of being dressed for dinner. He found himself as finely clothed as

before, but everything different, everything changed, from his ruff to

his stockings. He was presently conducted with much state to a spacious

and ornate apartment, where a table was already set for one. Its

furniture was all of massy gold, and beautified with designs which

well-nigh made it priceless, since they were the work of Benvenuto. The

room was half-filled with noble servitors. A chaplain said grace, and

Tom was about to fall to, for hunger had long been constitutional with

him, but was interrupted by my lord the Earl of Berkeley, who fastened a

napkin about his neck; for the great post of Diaperers to the Prince of

Wales was hereditary in this nobleman's family. Tom's cupbearer was

present, and forestalled all his attempts to help himself to wine. The

Taster to his highness the Prince of Wales was there also, prepared to

taste any suspicious dish upon requirement, and run the risk of being

poisoned. He was only an ornamental appendage at this time, and was

seldom called upon to exercise his function; but there had been times,

not many generations past, when the office of taster had its perils, and

was not a grandeur to be desired. Why they did not use a dog or a

plumber seems strange; but all the ways of royalty are strange. My Lord

d'Arcy, First Groom of the Chamber, was there, to do goodness knows what;

but there he was--let that suffice. The Lord Chief Butler was there, and

The Prince and The Pauper