At that moment the muscles of his nose began to
twitch, and the end of that organ to lift and wrinkle. This continued,
and Tom began to evince a growing distress. He looked appealingly,
first at one and then another of the lords about him, and tears came
into his eyes. They sprang forward with dismay in their faces, and
begged to know his trouble. Tom said with genuine anguish:
'I crave your indulgence; my nose itcheth cruelly. What is the
custom and usage in this emergence? Prithee speed, for 'tis but a
little time that I can bear it.'
None smiled; but all were sore perplexed, and looked one to the
other in deep tribulation for counsel. But, behold, here was a dead
wall, and nothing in English history to tell how to get over it. The
Master of Ceremonies was not present; there was no one who felt safe
to venture upon this uncharted sea, or risk the attempt to solve
this solemn problem. Alas! there was no Hereditary Scratcher. Meantime
the tears had overflowed their banks, and begun to trickle down
Tom's cheeks. His twitching nose was pleading more urgently than
ever for relief. At last nature broke down the barriers of
etiquette; Tom lifted up an inward prayer for pardon if he was doing
wrong, and brought relief to the burdened hearts of his court by
scratching his nose himself.
His meal being ended, a lord came and held before him a broad,
shallow, golden dish with fragrant rose-water in it, to cleanse his
mouth and fingers with; and my lord the Hereditary Diaperer stood by
with a napkin for his use.
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