But all things must have an end, and so in time Tom Canty was in a
condition to get out of bed. The proper official poured water, the
proper official engineered the washing, the proper official stood by
with a towel, and by and by Tom got safely through the purifying stage
and was ready for the services of the Hairdresser-Royal. When he at
length emerged from his master's hands, he was a gracious figure and
as pretty as a girl, in his mantle and trunks of purple satin, and
purple-plumed cap. He now moved in state toward his breakfast-room,
through the midst of the courtly assemblage; and as he passed, these
fell back, leaving his way free, and dropped upon their knees.
After breakfast he was conducted, with regal ceremony, attended by
his great officers and his guard of fifty Gentlemen Pensioners bearing
gilt battle-axes, to the throne-room, where he proceeded to transact
business of state. His 'uncle' Lord Hertford, took his stand by the
throne, to assist he royal mind with wise counsel.
The body of illustrious men named by the late king as his
executors, appeared, to ask Tom's approval of certain acts of
theirs- rather a form, and yet not wholly a form, since there was no
Protector as yet. The Archbishop of Canterbury made report of the
decree of the Council of Executors concerning the obsequies of his
late most illustrious majesty, and finished by reading the
signatures of the executors, to wit: the Archbishop of Canterbury; the
Lord Chancellor of England; William Lord St.
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