I did not know when Brandon first came to London. We had all remained
at Greenwich while the king went up to Westminster to waste his time
with matters of state and quarrel with the Parliament, then sitting,
over the amount of certain subsidies.
Mary, the king's sister, then some eighteen or nineteen years of age,
a perfect bud, just blossoming into a perfect flower, had gone over to
Windsor on a visit to her elder sister, Margaret of Scotland, and the
palace was dull enough. Brandon, it seems, had been presented to Henry
during this time, at Westminster, and had, to some extent at least,
become a favorite before I met him. The first time I saw him was at a
joust given by the king at Westminster, in celebration of the fact
that he had coaxed a good round subsidy out of Parliament.
The queen and her ladies had been invited over, and it was known that
Mary would be down from Windsor and come home with the king and the
court to Greenwich when we should return. So we all went over to
Westminster the night before the jousts, and were up bright and early
next morning to see all that was to be seen.
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