The king kept his promise to visit the Ark, though Tradescant had thought it was a royal promise – one thrown off in the moment with no thought other than to please by the graciousness of the intention. But early in January a Gentleman Usher of the court came to the Ark and was shown into the rarities room.

He looked around, concealing his surprise. ‘It’s an imposing room,’ he remarked to J, who had shown him in. ‘I had not thought you had built such a grand room.’

J inwardly congratulated his father for overweening ambition. ‘We need a lot of accommodation,’ he said modestly. ‘Every day we get something new for the collection, and the things need to be shown in the best light.’

The usher nodded. ‘The king and queen will visit you tomorrow at noon,’ he said. ‘They want to see this famous collection.’

J bowed. ‘We will be honoured.’

‘They will not dine here, but you may offer them biscuits and wine and fruit,’ the usher said. ‘I assume you will have no difficulty with that?’

J nodded. ‘Of course.’

‘And there is no need for any loyal address, or anything of that sort,’ the usher said. ‘No poem of greeting or anything like that. This is just an informal visit.’

J thought that the king and queen were very unlikely to get a poem of greeting from his staunchly independent wife but he merely nodded his assent. ‘I understand.’

‘And if there are any in your household who suffer from strong and misguided views –’ the usher paused to make sure that J was following him ‘– it is your responsibility to make sure that they do not appear before Their Majesties. The king and queen do not want to see long Puritanical faces on their visit, they do not want anyone reflecting on them. Make sure that only your well-dressed and joyful neighbours are on the road.’

‘I can make sure that they enjoy their visit to my house, but I cannot clear Lambeth of beggars and paupers,’ J replied sharply. ‘Are they coming by boat?’

‘Yes, their carriage will meet them at Lambeth.’

‘Then they should drive swiftly through Lambeth,’ J remarked unhelpfully. ‘Or they may see some of their subjects who are not happy and smiling.’

The usher looked at him sharply. ‘If anyone fails to uncover his head and shout “God save the king”, he will be sorry for it,’ he warned. ‘There are men in prison for treason for less. There are men with cropped ears and slit tongues who did nothing more than refuse to take their hats off when the royal carriage went by.’

J nodded. ‘They will meet with nothing but courtesy and respect in my house,’ he said. ‘But I am not responsible for the crowd on the quayside by the horse-ferry.’

‘I am responsible for them,’ the gentleman usher replied. ‘And I think you will find that every one of them shouts for the king.’