ho had not yet astonished the more decorous magnates of his
country by wearing a falling-band at the Oxford Quarter Sessions; Edward
Herbert, the most unfortunate of Cavalier lawyers; John Selden, already
a middle-aged man; John Finch, born in the same year as Selden, and
already far advanced in his eager course to a not honorable notoriety.
Attorney General Noy was also of the party, but his disastrous career
was already near its close.

The committee of management had their quarters at Ely House, Holborn;
and from that historic palace the masquers started for Whitehall on the
eve of Candlemas Day, 1633-4. It was a superb procession. First marched
twenty tall footmen, blazing in liveries of scarlet cloth trimmed with
lace, each of them holding a baton in his right hand, and in his left a
flaring torch that covered his face with light, and made the steel and
silver of his sword-scabbard shine brilliantly. A company of the
marshal's men marched next with firm and even steps, clearing the way
for their master. A burst of deafening applause came from the multitude
as the marshal rode through the gateway of Ely House, and caracoled over
the Holborn way on the finest charger that the king's stables could
furnish. A perfect horseman and the handsomest man then in town, Mr.
Darrel of Lincoln's Inn, had been elected to the office of marshal in
deference to his wealth, his noble aspect, his fine nature, and his
perfect mastery of all manly sports. On either side of Mr. Darrel's
horse marched a lacquey bearing a flambeau, and the marshal's page was
in attendance with his master's cloak. An interval of some twenty paces,
and then came the marshal's body-guard, composed of one hundred mounted
gentlemen of the Inns of Court--twenty-five from each house; showing in
their faces the signs of gentle birth and honorable nurture; and with
strong hands reining mettlesome chargers that had been furnished for
their use by the greatest nobles of the land. This flood of flashing
chivalry was succeeded by an anti-masque of beggars and cripples,
mounted on the lamest and most unsightly of rat-tailed srews and
spavined ponies, and wearing dresses that threw derision on legal
vestments and decorations. Another anti-masque satirized the wild
projects of crazy speculators and inventors; and as it moved along the
spectators laughed aloud at the "fish-call, or looking-glass for fishes
in the sea, very useful for fishermen to call all kinds of fish to t