CHAPTER XIV.

1565 AND 1566.

Renewal of the archduke's proposal.--Disappointment of

Leicester.--Anecdote concerning him.--Disgrace of the earl of

Arundel.--Situation of the duke of Norfolk.--Leicester his secret

enemy.--Notice of the earl of Sussex.--Proclamation respecting fencing

schools.--Marriage of lady Mary Grey.--Sir H. Sidney deputy of

Ireland.--Queen's letter to him.--Prince of Scotland born.--Melvil sent

with the news to Elizabeth.--His account of his reception.--Motion in

the house of commons for naming a successor.--Discord between the house

and the queen on this ground.--She refuses a subsidy--dissolves

parliament--visits Oxford.--Particulars of her reception.

Whether or not it was with a view of impeding the marriage of the queen

of Scots that Elizabeth had originally encouraged the renewal of the

proposals of the archduke to herself, certain it is that the treaty was

still carried on, and even with increased earnestness, long after this

motive had ceased to operate.

It was subsequently to Mary's announcement of her approaching nuptials,

that to the instances of the imperial ambassador Elizabeth had replied,

that she desired to keep herself free till she had finally decided

on the answer to be given to the king of France, who had also offered

her his hand[55]. After breaking off this negotiation with Charles IX.,

she declared to the same ambassador, that she would never engage to

marry a person whom she had not seen;--an answer which seemed to hint to

the archduke that a visit would be well received. It was accordingly

reported with confidence that this prince would soon commence his

journey to England; and Cecil himself ventured to write to a friend,

that if he would accede to the national religion, and if his person

proved acceptable to her majesty, "except God should please to continue

his displeasure against us, we should see some success." But he thought

that the archduke would never explain himself on religion to any one

except the queen, and not to her until he should see hopes of speeding.

[Note 55: It is on the authority of Strype's "Annals" that this

offer of Charles IX. to Elizabeth is recorded. Hume, Camden, Rapin, are

all silent respecting it; but as it seems that Catherine dei Medici was

at the time desirous of the appearance of a closer connexion with

Elizabeth, it is not improbable that she might throw out some hint of

this nature without any real wish of bringing about an union in all

respects so unsuitable.]

The splendid dream of Leicester's ambition was dissipated for ever by

these negotiations; and a diminution of the queen's partiality towards

him, distinctly visible to the observant eyes of her courtiers, either

preceded or accompanied her entertaining so long, and with such an air

of serious deliberation, the proposals of a foreign prince. The enemies

of Leicester,--a large and formidable party, comprehending almost all

the highest names among the nobility and the greater part of the

ministers,--openly and zealously espoused the interest of the archduke.

Leicester at first with equal warmth and equal openness opposed his

pretensions; but he was soon admonished by the frowns of his royal

mistress, that if he would preserve or recover his influence, he must

now be content to take a humbler tone, and disguise a disappointment

which there was arrogance in avowing.

The disposition of Elizabeth partook so much more of the haughty than

the tender, that the slightest appearances of presumption would always

provoke her to take a pleasure in mortifying the most distinguished of

her favorites; and it might be no improbable guess, that almost the

whole of the encouragement given by her to the addresses of the archduke

was prompted by the desire of humbling the pride of Leicester, and

showing him that his ascendency over her was not so complete or so

secure as he imagined.

A circumstance is related which we may conjecture to have occurred about

this time, and which sets in a strong light this part of the character

of Elizabeth. "Bowyer, a gentleman of the Black Rod, being charged by

her express command to look precisely into all admissions into the

privy-chamber, one day stayed a very gay captain, and a follower of my

lord of Leicester's, from entrance; for that he was neither well known,

nor a sworn servant to the queen: at which repulse, the gentleman,

bearing high on my lord's favor, told him, he might perchance procure

him a discharge. Leicester coming into the contestation, said publicly

(which was none of his wont) that he was a knave, and should not

continue long in his office; and so turning about to go in to the queen,

Bowyer, who was a bold gentleman and well beloved, stepped before him

and fell at her majesty's feet, related the story, and humbly craves her

grace's pleasure; and whether my lord of Leicester was king, or her

majesty queen? Whereunto she replied with her wonted oath, 'God's death,

my lord, I have wished you well; but my favor is not so locked up for

you, that others shall not partake thereof; for I have many servants, to

whom I have, and will at my pleasure, bequeath my favor, and likewise

resume the same: and if you think to rule here, I will take a course to

see you forthcoming. I will have here but one mistress, and no master;

and look that no ill happen to him, lest it be required at your hands.'

Which words so quelled my lord of Leicester, that his feigned humility

was long after one of his best virtues[56]."

[Note 56: Naunton's "Fragmenta Regalia."]

It might be some consolation to Leicester, under his own mortifications,

to behold his ancient rival the earl of Arundel subjected to far severer

ones. This nobleman had resigned in disgust his office of

lord-chamberlain; subsequently, the queen, on some ground of displeasure

now unknown, had commanded him to confine himself to his own house; and

at the end of several months passed under this kind of restraint, she

still denied him for a further term the consolation and privilege of

approaching her royal presence. Disgraces so public and so lasting

determined him to throw up the desperate game on which he had hazarded

so deep a stake: he obtained leave to travel, and hastened to conceal or

forget in foreign lands the bitterness of his disappointment and the

embarrassment of his circumstances.

It is probable that from this time Elizabeth found no more serious

suitors amongst her courtiers, though they flattered her by continuing,

almost to the end of her life, to address her in the language of love,

or rather of gallantry. With all her coquetry, her head was clear, her

passions were cool; and men began to perceive that there was little

chance of prevailing with her to gratify her heart or her fancy at the

expense of that independence on which her lofty temper led her to set so

high a value. Some were still uncharitable, unjust enough to believe

that Leicester was, or had been, a fortunate lover; but few now expected

to see him her husband, and none found encouragement sufficient to renew

the experiment in which he had failed. Notwithstanding her short and

capricious fits of pride and anger, it was manifest that Leicester still

exercised over her mind an influence superior on the whole to that of

any other person; and the high distinction with which she continued to

treat him, both in public and private, alarmed the jealousy and provoked

the hostility of all who thought themselves entitled by rank, by

relationship, or by merit, to a larger share of her esteem and favor, or

a more intimate participation in her councils.

One nobleman there was, who had peculiar pretensions to supersede

Leicester in his popular appellation of "Heart of the Court," and on

whom he had already fixed in secret the watchful eye of a rival. This

was Thomas duke of Norfolk. Inheriting through several channels the

blood of the Plantagenets,--nearly related to the queen by her maternal

ancestry, and connected by descent or alliance with the whole body of

the ancient nobility; endeared also to the people by many shining

qualities, and still more by his unfeigned zeal for reformed

religion,--his grace stood first amongst the peers of England, not in

degree alone or in wealth, but in power, in influence, and in public

estimation.

He was in the prime of manhood and lately a widower; and when, in the

parliament of 1566, certain members did not scruple to maintain that the

queen ought to be compelled to marry for the good of her country, the

duke was named by some, as the earl of Pembroke was by others and the

earl of Leicester by a third party, as the person whom she ought to

accept as a husband. It does not however appear that the duke himself

had aspired, openly at least, to these august but unattainable nuptials.

Elizabeth seems to have entertained for him at this period a real

regard: he could be to her no object of distrust or danger, and the

example which she was ever careful to set of a scrupulous observance of

the gradations of rank, led her on all occasions to prefer him to the

post of honor. Thus, after the peace with France in 1564, when Charles

IX. in return for the Garter, which the queen of England had sent him,

offered to confer the order of St. Michael on two English nobles of her

appointment, she named without hesitation the duke of Norfolk and the

earl of Leicester.

The arrogance of Dudley seldom escaped from the control of policy; and

as he had the sagacity to perceive that the duke was a competitor over

whom treachery alone could render him finally triumphant, he cautiously

avoided with him any open collision of interests, any offensive rivalry

in matters of place and dignity. He even went further; he compelled

himself, by a feigned deference, to administer food to that exaggerated

self-consequence,--the cherished foible of the house of Howard in

general and of this duke in particular,--out of which he perhaps already

hoped that matter would arise to work his ruin. The chronicles of the

year 1565 give a striking instance of this part of his behaviour, in the

information, that the duke of Norfolk, going to keep his Christmas in

his own county, was attended out of London by the earls of Leicester and

Warwick, the lord-chamberlain and other lords and gentlemen, who brought

him on his journey, "doing him all the honor in their power."

The duke was not gifted with any great degree of penetration, and the

generosity of his disposition combined with his vanity to render him

generally the dupe of outward homage and fair professions. He repaid the

insidious complaisance of Leicester with good will and even with

confidence; and it was not till all was lost that he appears to have

recognised this fatal and irreparable error.

Thomas earl of Sussex was an antagonist of a different nature,--an enemy

rather than a rival,--and one who sought the overthrow of Leicester

with as much zeal and industry as Leicester himself sought his, or that

of the duke; but by means as open and courageous as those of his

opponent were ever secret, base, and cowardly. This nobleman, the third

earl of the surname of Radcliffe, and son of him who had interfered with

effect to procure more humane and respectful treatment of Elizabeth

during the period of her adversity, had been first known by the title of

lord Fitzwalter, which he derived from a powerful line of barons well

known in English history from the days of Henry I. By his mother, a

daughter of Thomas second duke of Norfolk, he was first-cousin to queen

Anne Boleyn; and friendship, still more than the ties of blood, closely

connected him with the head of the Howards. Several circumstances render

it probable that he was not a zealous protestant, though it is no where

hinted that he was even secretly attached to the catholic party. During

the reign of Mary, his high character and approved loyalty had caused

him to be employed, first in an embassy to the emperor Charles V. to

settle the queen's marriage-articles; and afterwards in the arduous post

of lord-deputy of Ireland. Elizabeth continued him for some time in this

situation; but wishing to avail herself of his counsels and service at

home, she recalled him in 1565, conferred upon him the high dignity of

lord-chamberlain, vacant by the resignation of the earl of Arundel, and

appointed as his successor in Ireland his excellent second in office sir

Henry Sidney, who stood in the same relation, that of brother-in-law, to

Sussex and to Leicester, and whose singular merit and good fortune it

was to preserve to the end the esteem and friendship of both.

The ostensible cause of quarrel between these two earls seems to have

been their difference of opinion respecting the Austrian match; but this

was rather the pretext than the motive of an animosity deeply rooted in

the natures and situation of each, and probably called into action by

particular provocations now unknown. The disposition of Sussex was

courageous and sincere; his spirit high, his judgement clear and strong,

his whole character honorable and upright. In the arts of a courtier,

which he despised, he was confessedly inferior to his wily adversary; in

all the qualifications of a statesman and a soldier he vastly excelled

him.

Sussex was endowed with penetration sufficient to detect, beneath the

thick folds of hypocrisy and artifice in which he had involved them, the

monstrous vices of Leicester's disposition; and he could not without

indignation and disgust behold a princess whose blood he shared, whose

character he honored, and whose service he had himself embraced with

pure devotion, the dupe of an impostor so despicable and so pernicious.

That influence which he saw Leicester abuse to the dishonor of the queen

and the detriment of the country, he undertook to overthrow by fair and

public means, and, so far as appears, without motives of personal

interest or ambition:--thus far all was well, and for the effort,

whether successful or not, he merited the public thanks. But there

mingled in the bosom of the high-born Sussex an illiberal disdain of

the origin of Dudley, with a just abhorrence of his character and

conduct.

He was wont to say of him, that two ancestors were all that he could

number, his father and grandfather; both traitors and enemies to their

country. His sarcasms roused in Leicester an animosity which he did not

attempt to disguise: with the exception of Cecil and his friends, who

stood neuter, the whole court divided into factions upon the quarrel of

these two powerful peers; and to such extremity were matters carried,

that for some time neither of them would stir abroad without a numerous

train armed, according to the fashion of the day, with daggers and

spiked bucklers.

Scarcely could the queen herself restrain these "angry opposites" from

breaking out into acts of violence: at length however, summoning them

both into her presence, she forced them to a reconciliation neither more

nor less sincere than such pacifications by authority have usually

proved.

The open and unmeasured enmity of Sussex seems to have been productive

in the end of more injury to his own friends than to Leicester. The

storm under which the favorite had bowed for an instant was quickly

overpast, and he once more reared his head erect and lofty as before. To

revenge himself by the ruin or disgrace of Sussex was however beyond his

power: the well-founded confidence of Elizabeth in his abilities and his

attachment to her person, he found to be immovable; but against his

friends and adherents, against the duke of Norfolk himself, his

malignant arts succeeded but too well; and it seems not improbable that

Leicester, for the purpose of carrying on without molestation his

practices against them, concurred in procuring for his adversary an

honorable exile in the shape of an embassy to the imperial court, on

which he departed in the year 1567.

After his return from this mission the queen named the earl of Sussex

lord-president of the North, an appointment which equally removed him

from the immediate theatre of court intrigue. Not long after, the hand

of death put a final close to his honorable career, and to an enmity

destined to know no other termination. As he lay upon his death-bed,

this eminent person is recorded to have thus addressed his surrounding

friends: "I am now passing into another world, and must leave you to

your fortunes and to the queen's grace and goodness; but beware of the

_Gipsy_ (meaning Leicester), for he will be too hard for you all; you

know not the beast so well as I do[57]."

[Note 57: Naunton's "Fragmenta Regalia."]

This earl left no children, and his widow became the munificent

foundress of Sidney Sussex college, Cambridge. Of his negotiations with

the court of Vienna respecting the royal marriage which he had so much

at heart, particulars will be given in due time; but the miscellaneous

transactions of two or three preceding years claim a priority of

narration.

By a proclamation of February 1566, the queen revived some former

sumptuary laws respecting apparel; chiefly, it should appear, from an

apprehension that a dangerous confusion of ranks would be the

consequence of indulging to her subjects the liberty of private

judgement in a matter so important. The following clause concerning

fencing schools is appended to this instrument.

"Because it is daily seen what disorders do grow and are likely to

increase in the realm, by the increase of numbers of persons taking upon

them to teach the multitude of common people to play at all kind of

weapons; and for that purpose set up schools called schools of fence, in

places inconvenient; tending to the great disorder of such people as

properly ought to apply to their labours and handy works: Therefore her

majesty ordereth and commandeth, that no teacher of fence shall keep any

school or common place of resort in any place of the realm, but within

the liberties of some city of the realm. Where also they shall be

obedient to such orders as the governors of the cities shall appoint to

them, for the better keeping of the peace, and for prohibition of resort

of such people to the same schools as are not mete for that purpose."

&c.

On these restrictions, which would seem to imply an unworthy jealousy of

putting arms and the skill to use them into the hands of the common

people, it is equitable to remark, that the custom of constantly wearing

weapons, at this time almost universal, though prohibited by the laws of

some of our early kings, had been found productive of those frequent

acts of violence and outrage which have uniformly resulted from this

truly barbarous practice in all the countries where it has been suffered

to prevail.

From the description of England prefixed to Holinshed's Chronicles, we

learn several particulars on this subject. Few men, even of the gravest

and most pacific characters, such as ancient burgesses and city

magistrates, went without a dagger at their side or back. The nobility

commonly wore swords or rapiers as well as daggers, as did every common

serving-man following his master. Some "desperate cutters" carried two

daggers, or two rapiers in a sheath, always about them, with which in

every drunken fray they worked much mischief; their swords and daggers

also were of an extraordinary length (an abuse which was provided

against by a clause of the proclamation above quoted); some "suspicious

fellows" also would carry on the highways staves of twelve or thirteen

feet long, with pikes of twelve inches at the end, wherefore the honest

traveller was compelled to ride with a case of _dags_ (pistols) at his

saddle-bow, and none travelled without sword, or dagger, or hanger.

About this time occurred what a contemporary reporter called "an unhappy

chance and monstrous;" the marriage of lady Mary Grey to the

serjeant-porter: a circumstance thus recorded by Fuller, with his

accustomed quaintness. "Mary Grey... frighted with the infelicity of her

two elder sisters, Jane and this Catherine, forgot her honor to remember

her safety, and married one whom she could love and none need fear,

Martin Kays, of Kent esquire, who was a judge at court, (but only of

doubtful casts at dice, being serjeant-porter,) and died without issue

the 20th of April 1578[58]."

[Note 58: "Worthies in Leicestershire."]

The queen, according to her usual practice in similar cases, sent both

husband and wife to prison. What became further of the husband I do not

find; but respecting the wife, sir Thomas Gresham the eminent merchant,

in a letter to lord Burleigh dated in April 1572, mentions, that the

lady Mary Grey had been kept in his house nearly three years, and begs

of his lordship that he will make interest for her removal. Thus it

should appear that this unfortunate lady did not sufficiently "remember

her safety" in forming this connexion, obscure and humble as it was; for

all matrimony had now become offensive to the austerity or the secret

envy of the maiden queen.

Sir Henry Sidney, on arriving to take the government of Ireland, found

that unhappy country in a state of more than ordinary turbulence,

distraction, and misery. Petty insurrections of perpetual recurrence

harassed the English pale; and the native chieftains, disdaining to

accept the laws of a foreign sovereign as the umpire of their disputes,

were waging innumerable private wars, which at once impoverished,

afflicted, and barbarized their country. The most important of these

feuds was one between the earls of Ormond and Desmond, which so

disquieted the queen that, in addition to all official instructions, she

deemed it necessary to address her deputy on the subject in a private

letter written with her own hand. This document, printed in the Sidney

papers, is too valuable, as a specimen of her extraordinary style and

her manner of thinking, to be omitted. It is without date, but must have

been written in 1565.

* * * * *

"Letter of Queen Elizabeth to Sir Henry Sidney, on the Quarrel between

Thomas Earl of Ormond and the Earl of Desmond, _anno_ 1565.

"HARRY,

"If our partial slender managing of the contentious quarrel between the

two Irish earls did not make the way to cause these lines to pass my

hand, this gibberish should hardly have cumbered your eyes; but warned

by my former fault, and dreading worser hap to come, I rede you take

good heed that the good subjects lost state be so revenged that I hear

not the rest be won to a right bye way to breed more traitor's stocks,

and so the goal is gone. Make some difference between tried, just, and

false friend. Let the good service of well-deservers be never rewarded

with loss. Let their thank be such as may encourage no strivers for the

like. Suffer not that Desmond's denying deeds, far wide from promised

works, make you to trust to other pledge than either himself or John for

gage: he hath so well performed his English vows, that I warn you trust

him no longer than you see one of them. Prometheus let me be,

_Epimetheus_[59] hath been mine too long. I pray God your old strange

sheep late (as you say) returned into the fold, wore not her wooly

garment upon her wolvy back. You know a kingdom knows no kindred, _si

violandum jus regnandi causa_. A strength to harm is perilous in the

hand of an ambitious head. Where might is mixed with wit, there is too

good an accord in a government. Essays be oft dangerous, specially when

the cup-bearer hath received such a preservative as, what might so ever

betide the drinker's draught, the carrier takes no bane thereby.

[Note 59: In the original, "and Prometheus," but evidently by a mere

slip of the pen.]

"Believe not, though they swear, that they can be full sound, whose

parents sought the rule that they full fain would have. I warrant you

they will never be accused of bastardy; you were to blame to lay it to

their charge, they will trace the steps that others have passed before.

If I had not espied, though very late, legerdemain, used in these cases,

I had never played my part. No, if I did not see the balances held awry,

I had never myself come into the weigh house. I hope I shall have so

good a customer of you, that all other officers shall do their duty

among you. If aught have been amiss at home, I will patch though I

cannot whole it. Let us not, nor no more do you, consult so long as till

advice come too late to the givers: where then shall we wish the deeds

while all was spent in words; a fool too late bewares when all the peril

is past. If we still advise, we shall never do, thus are we still

knitting a knot never tied; yea, and if our _web_[60] be framed with

rotten hurdles, when our _loom_ is welny done, our work is new to

begin. God send the weaver true prentices again, and let them be

denizens I pray you if they be not citizens; and such too as your

ancientest aldermen, that have or now dwell in your official place, have

had best cause to commend their good behaviour.

[Note 60: The words _web_ and _loom_ in this sentence ought

certainly to be transposed.]

"Let this memorial be only committed to Vulcan's base keeping, without

any longer abode than the reading thereof, yea, and with no mention made

thereof to any other wight. I charge you as I may command you. Seem not

to have had but secretary's letter from me.

"Your loving mistress

"ELIZABETH R."

* * * * *

In the month of June 1566, the queen of Scots was delivered of a son.

James Melvil was immediately dispatched with the happy intelligence to

her good sister of England: and he has fortunately left us a narrative

of this mission, which equals in vivacity the relation of his former

visit. "By twelve of the clock I took horse, and was that night at

Berwick. The fourth day after, I was at London, and did first meet with

my brother sir Robert (then ambassador to England), who that same night

sent and advertised secretary Cecil of my arrival, and of the birth of

the prince, desiring him to keep it quiet till my coming to court to

show it myself unto her majesty, who was for the time at Greenwich,

where her majesty was in great mirth, dancing after supper. But so soon

as the secretary Cecil whispered in her ear the news of the prince's

birth, all her mirth was laid aside for that night. All present

marvelling whence proceeded such a change; for the queen did sit down,

putting her hand under her cheek, bursting out to some of her ladies,

that the queen of Scots was mother of a fair son, while she was but a

barren stock.

"The next morning was appointed for me to get audience, at what time my

brother and I went by water to Greenwich, and were met by some friends

who told us how sorrowful her majesty was at my news, but that she had

been advised to show a glad and cheerful countenance; which she did in

her best apparel, saying, that the joyful news of the queen her sister's

delivery of a fair son, which I had sent her by secretary Cecil, had

recovered her out of a heavy sickness which she had lain under for

fifteen days. Therefore she welcomed me with a merry volt, and thanked

me for the diligence I had used in hasting to give her that welcome

intelligence." &c. "The next day her majesty sent unto me her letter,

with the present of a fair chain."

Resolved to perform with a good grace the part which she had assumed,

Elizabeth accepted with alacrity the office of sponsor to the prince of

Scotland, sending thither as her proxies the earl of Bedford, Mr. Carey

son of lord Hunsdon, and other knights and gentlemen; who met with so

cordial a reception from Mary,--now at open variance with her husband,

and therefore desirous of support from England,--as to provoke the

jealousy of the French ambassadors. The present of the royal godmother

was a font of pure gold worth above one thousand pounds; in return for

which, rings, rich chains of diamond and pearl, and other jewels were

liberally bestowed upon her substitutes.

The birth of her son lent a vast accession of strength to the party of

the queen of Scots in England; and Melvil was commissioned to convey

back to her from several of the principal personages of the court, warm

professions of an attachment to her person and interests, which the

jealousy of their mistress compelled them to dissemble. Elizabeth, on

her part, was more than ever disturbed by suspicions on this head, which

were kept in constant activity by the secret informations of the armies

of spies whom it was her self-tormenting policy to set over the words

and actions of the Scottish queen and her English partisans. The more

she learned of the influence privately acquired by Mary amongst her

subjects, the more, of course, she feared and hated her, and the

stronger became her determination never to give her additional

consequence by an open recognition of her right of succession. At the

same time she was fully sensible that no other person could be thought

of as the inheritrix of her crown; and she resolved, perhaps wisely, to

maintain on this subject an inflexible silence: this policy, however,

connected with her perseverance in a state of celibacy, began to awaken

in her people an anxiety respecting their future destinies, which, being

artfully fomented by Scottish emissaries, produced, in 1566, the first

symptoms of discord between the queen and her faithful commons.

A motion was made in the lower house for reviving the suit to her

majesty touching the naming of a successor in case of her death without

posterity; and in spite of the strenuous opposition of the court party,

and the efforts of the ministers to procure a delay by declaring "that

the queen was moved to marriage and inclined to prosecute the same," it

was carried, and a committee appointed to confer with the lords. The

business was not very agreeable to the upper house: a committee however

was named, and the queen soon after required some members of both houses

to wait upon her respecting this matter; when the lord-keeper explained

their sentiments in a long speech, to which her majesty was pleased to

reply after her darkest and most ambiguous manner. "As to her marriage,"

she said, "a silent thought might serve. She thought it had been so

desired that none other trees blossom should have been minded or ever

any hope of fruit had been denied them. But that if any doubted that she

was by vow or determination never bent to trade in that kind of life,

she bade them put out that kind of heresy, for their belief was therein

awry. And though she could think it best for a private woman, yet she

strove with herself to think it not meet for a prince. As to the

succession, she bade them not think that they had needed this desire, if

she had seen a time so fit; and it so ripe to be denounced. That the

greatness of the cause, and the need of their return, made her say that

a short time for so long a continuance ought not to pass by rote. That

as cause by conference with the learned should show her matter worth

utterance for their behoof, so she would more gladly pursue their good

after her days, than with all her prayers while she lived be a means to

linger out her living thread. That for their comfort, she had good

record in that place that other means than they mentioned had been

thought of perchance for their good, as much as for her own surety:

which, if they could have been presently or conveniently executed, it

had not been now deferred or over-slipped. That she hoped to die in

quiet with _Nunc dimittis_, which could not be without she saw some

glimpse of their following surety after her graved bones."

These vague sentences tended little to the satisfaction of the house;

and a motion was made, and strongly supported by the speeches of several

members, for reiteration of the suit. At this her majesty was so

incensed, that she communicated by sir Francis Knowles her positive

command to the house to proceed no further in this business, satisfying

themselves with the promise of marriage which she had made on the word

of a prince. But that truly independent member Paul Wentworth could not

be brought to acquiesce with tameness in this prohibition, and he moved

the house on the question, whether the late command of her majesty was

not a breach of its privileges? The queen hereupon issued an injunction

that there should be no debates on this point; but the spirit of

resistance rose so high in the house of commons against this her

arbitrary interference, that she found it expedient, a few days after,

to rescind both orders, making a great favor however of her compliance,

and insisting on the condition, that the subject should not at this time

be further pursued.

In her speech on adjourning parliament she did not omit to acquaint both

houses with her extreme displeasure at their interference touching the

naming of a successor; a matter which she always chose to regard as

belonging exclusively to her prerogative;--and she ended by telling

them, "that though perhaps they might have after her one better learned

or wiser, yet she assured them none more careful over them. And

therefore henceforth she bade them beware how they proved their prince's

patience as they had now done hers. And notwithstanding, not meaning,

she said, to make a Lent of Christmas, the most part of them might

assure themselves that they departed in their prince's grace[61]."

[Note 61: Strype's "Annals."]

She utterly refused an extraordinary subsidy which the commons had

offered on condition of her naming her successor, and even of the

ordinary supplies which she accepted, she remitted a fourth, popularly

observing, that it was as well for her to have money in the coffers of

her subjects as in her own. By such an alternation of menaces and

flatteries did Elizabeth contrive to preserve her ascendency over the

hearts and minds of her people!

The earl of Leicester had lately been elected chancellor of the

university of Oxford, and in the autumn of 1566 the queen consented to

honor with her presence this seat of learning, long ambitious of such a

distinction. She was received with the same ceremonies as at Cambridge:

learned exhibitions of the same nature awaited her; and she made a

similar parade of her bashfulness, and a still greater of her erudition;

addressing this university not in Latin, but in Greek.

Of the dramatic exhibitions prepared for her recreation, an elegant

writer has recorded the following particulars[62]. "In the magnificent

hall of Christ-church, she was entertained with a Latin comedy called

Marcus Geminus, the Latin tragedy of Progne, and an English comedy on

the story of Palamon and Arcite, (by Richard Edwards gentleman of the

queen's chapel, and master of the choristers,) all acted by the students

of the university. When the last play was over, the queen summoned the

poet into her presence, whom she loaded with thanks and compliments: and

at the same time, turning to her levee, remarked, that Palamon was so

justly drawn as a lover, that he must have been in love indeed; that

Arcite was a right martial knight, having a swart and manly countenance,

yet with the aspect of a Venus clad in armour: that the lovely Emilia

was a virgin of uncorrupted purity and unblemished simplicity; and that

though she sung so sweetly, and gathered flowers alone in the garden,

she preserved her chastity undeflowered. The part of Emilia, the only

female part in the play, was acted by a boy of fourteen, whose

performance so captivated her majesty, that she made him a present of

eight guineas[63]. During the exhibition, a cry of hounds belonging to

Theseus was counterfeited without in the great square of the college;

the young students thought it a real chase, and were seized with a

sudden transport to join the hunters: at which the queen cried out from

her box, "O excellent! these boys, in very troth, are ready to leap out

of the windows to follow the hounds!"

[Note 62: Warton's "History of English Poetry."]

[Note 63: Mr. Warton apparently forgets that _guineas_ were first

coined by Charles II.]

Dr. Lawrence Humphreys, who had lately been distinguished by his

strenuous opposition to the injunctions of the queen and archbishop

Parker respecting the habits and ceremonies, was at this time

vice-chancellor of Oxford; and when he came forth in procession to meet

the queen, she could not forbear saying with a smile, as she gave him

her hand to kiss--"That loose gown, Mr. Doctor, becomes you mighty well;

I wonder your notions should be so narrow."

Memoirs of the Court of Queen Elizabeth · 第 14 / 29 章