Chapter 57

THE EMPEROR REVIEWS THE PEOPLE AT QUARTERS.

I Beg their Royal Highnesses' pardons all round, but I had almost
forgotten to chronicle the fact, that with the Emperor came
several other royal Princes--kings for aught we knew--since it
was just after the celebration of the nuptials of a younger
sister of the Brazilian monarch to some European royalty. Indeed,
the Emperor and his suite formed a sort of bridal party, only the
bride herself was absent.

The first reception over, the smoke of the cannonading salute
having cleared away, and the martial outburst of the brass band
having also rolled off to leeward, the people were called down
from the yards, and the drum beat to quarters.

To quarters we went; and there we stood up by our iron bull-dogs,
while our royal and noble visitors promenaded along the batteries,
breaking out into frequent exclamations at our warlike array, the
extreme neatness of our garments, and, above all, the extraordinary
polish of the _bright-work_ about the great guns, and the marvellous
whiteness of the decks.

"Que gosto!" cried a Marquis, with several dry goods samples of
ribbon, tallied with bright buttons, hanging from his breast.

"Que gloria!" cried a crooked, coffee-coloured Viscount, spreading
both palms.

"Que alegria!" cried a little Count, mincingly circumnavigating a
shot-box.

"Que contentamento he o meu!" cried the Emperor himself, complacently
folding his royal arms, and serenely gazing along our ranks.

_Pleasure, Glory_, and _Joy_--this was the burden of the three noble
courtiers. _And very pleasing indeed_--was the simple rendering of
Don Pedro's imperial remark.

"Ay, ay," growled a grim rammer-and-sponger behind me; "it's all
devilish fine for you nobs to look at; but what would you say if
you had to holy-stone the deck yourselves, and wear out your
elbows in polishing this cursed old iron, besides getting a dozen
at the gangway, if you dropped a grease-spot on deck in your
mess? Ay, ay, devilish fine for you, but devilish dull for us!"

In due time the drums beat the retreat, and the ship's company
scattered over the decks.

Some of the officers now assumed the part of cicerones, to show
the distinguished strangers the bowels of the frigate, concerning
which several of them showed a good deal of intelligent
curiosity. A guard of honour, detached from the marine corps,
accompanied them, and they made the circuit of the berth-deck,
where, at a judicious distance, the Emperor peeped down into the
cable-tier, a very subterranean vault.

The Captain of the Main-Hold, who there presided, made a polite
bow in the twilight, and