and handsome cavalier, drew the eyes of Erin's blue-eyed daughters:—the men whispered together that he must be some Spanish grandee or English noble; but wherefore, unannounced and unattended, he came and knelt in their church before the shrine of Saint Finbar, was matter of vague conjecture. The congregation passed out; then, impelled by curiosity, formed a wide semicircle round the gates of the cathedral, watching the motions of the graceful stranger. Master John Lavallan, the mayor, John O'Water, the wealthiest citizen, and former mayor of the town, and other rich burghers, stood close to the Round Tower within the walls of the Garth, in expectation of being addressed by their distinguished visitor. The duke of York cast a quick glance around; and then, as the mayor advanced, the youth stepped forward to meet him. The citizen, as one habituated to exercise hospitality, bade the knight welcome, beseeching him to honour his abode with his presence, and to command his services. The duke frankly accepted the invitation, and descended with the mayor into the main street, where that officer resided; and here again Richard was made welcome to the city of Cork.
It was a gala day at the mayor's; and now, at the dinner hour, twelve o'clock, the long tables groaned under the weight of viands, and round the hospitable board were seated the principal families of the town. No questions were asked the visitor—his golden spurs bespoke his honourable rank; he was placed at the right hand of Lavallan; and, while the clatter of knives and trenchers went on, he was only remarked by the younger guests, who gazed, even to the injury of their appetites, on his burnished ringlets, his fair open brow, his bright blue eyes, and smile of courteous affability: but time went on; the dishes were carried away, the goblets placed; when the mayor, rising, drank welcome to the stranger, and asked, if no reason forbade him to reply, his name and mission. Already Richard had become acquainted with most of the countenances of his entertainers—that is, of those nearest him; for, far through the long hall, almost out of sight, the table extended, crowded by city retainers, and a few of the mere "Irishry," whose long hair and loose saffron-coloured mantles contrasted with the doublet, hose, and trimmed locks of the townsmen. Those near him bore the latter character, though their vivacious glances and quick gestures were more akin to the inhabitants of the south, among whom he had been accustomed to live, than to the steady, dull demeanour of English traders.
When Lavallan drank to the stranger, every eye turned to the object of the toast, Bichard arose—his plumed cap was doffed;
