Note 87 — THE PROLOGUE.
Reading edition
So our author, in his poetical legend, dwells upon this regal pomp of his master:
‘My crossis twayne of silver long and greate, That dayly before me were carried hyghe, Upon great horses opynly in the streett; And massie pillers gloryouse to the eye, With pollaxes gylt that no man durst come nyghe My presence, I was so pryncely to behold; Ridyng on my mule trapped in silver and in golde.’
See Appendix.