ient British kings kept
court; for these were merely large straggling enclosures, surrounded
with trenches and hedge-rows, containing a few groups of wattled huts,
plastered over with clay. The huts were built round the king's palace,
which was not itself a more commodious building than a modern barn, and
having neither chimneys nor glazed windows, must have been but a
miserable abode in the winter season.

At the period to which our story has now conducted us, it was, however,
a fine warm autumn day. King Hurdebras and his queen were therefore
dwelling in an open pavilion, formed of the trunks of trees, which were
covered over with boughs, and garlanded with wreaths of wild flowers.

Bladud and his master arrived during the celebration of a great
festival, held to commemorate the acorn-gathering, which was then
completed. All ranks and conditions of people were assembled in their
holiday attire, which varied from simple sheep-skins to the fur of
wolves, cats, and rabbits.

Among all this concourse of people, Bladud was remarked for the poverty
of his garments, which were of the rude fashion and coarse material of
those of the humblest peasant. As for the old herdsman, his master,
when he observed the little respect with which Bladud was treated by
the rude crowds who were thronging to the royal city, he began to
suspect either that the youth himself had been deluded by some strange
dream respecting his royal birth and breeding, or that for knavish
purposes he had practiced on his credulity, in inducing him to
undertake so long a journey.

These reflections put the old man into an ill humor, which was greatly
increased when, on entering the city, he became an object of boisterous
mirth and rude jest to the populace. On endeavoring to ascertain the
cause of this annoyance, he discovered that one of his most valuable
pigs, that had formed a very powerful attachment to Prince Bladud, had
followed them on their journey, and was now grunting at their very
heels.

The herdsman's anger at length broke out in words, and he bitterly
upbraided Bladud for having beguiled him into such a wild-goose
expedition. "And, as if that were not enough," quoth he, "thou couldst
not be contented without bringing thy pet pig hither, to make a fool
both of thyself and me. Why, verily, we are the laughing-stock of the
whole city."

Bladud mildly assured his master that it was through no act of his that
the pig had followed them to