No fairer day had traced that radiant month of June and no
more splendid pageantry had adorned the illustrious reign of the new
Grand Constable. Mimic battles, fountains running wine, free doles
of food, fantastic pageants, grotesque dances, all the gorgeous
mummery that the fifteenth century delighted in was offered in
profusion to please the fancy and win the hearts of the people of
Paris. But the crowning triumph was the great festival which the
Grand Constable gave with the king's permission in the king's own
rose garden, the magnificent mascarado in the Italian manner, to
which all who were associated with the court were summoned. This
revelry which began at sunset was intended to overtop all possible
courtly ceremonials in the splendour of its equipment, the
lavishness of its display, the richness and profusion of its
hospitality.
It was near to the hour of sunset when Villon sat with the king in
the little room in the grey tower from which the king loved to
follow the movements of the heavenly bodies. On the table by which
the king and Villon were seated lay a large chart of the country in
the immediate neighbourhood of Paris, and in front of the table
stood three of the king's most trusty commanders, the Lord du Lau,
the Lord Poncet de Riviere and the Lord of Nantoillet.
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