Kenilworth

  CHAPTER XXXIV.

  Have you not seen the partridge quake, Viewing the hawk approaching nigh? She cuddles close beneath the brake, Afraid to sit, afraid to fly, --PRIOR.

  It chanced, upon that memorable morning, that one of the earliest ofthe huntress train, who appeared from her chamber in full array for thechase, was the Princess for whom all these pleasures were instituted,England's Maiden Queen. I know not if it were by chance, or out of thebefitting courtesy due to a mistress by whom he was so much honoured,that she had scarcely made one step beyond the threshold of herchamber ere Leicester was by her side, and proposed to her, until thepreparations for the chase had been completed, to view the Pleasance,and the gardens which it connected with the Castle yard.

  To this new scene of pleasures they walked, the Earl's arm affording hisSovereign the occasional support which she required, where flightsof steps, then a favourite ornament in a garden, conducted them fromterrace to terrace, and from parterre to parterre. The ladies inattendance, gifted with prudence, or endowed perhaps with the amiabledesire of acting as they would be done by, did not conceive their dutyto the Queen's person required them, though they lost not sight of her,to approach so near as to share, or perhaps disturb, the conversationbetwixt the Queen and the Earl, who was not only her host, but also hermost trusted, esteemed, and favoured servant. They contented themselveswith admiring the grace of this illustrious couple, whose robes of statewere now exchanged for hunting suits, almost equally magnificent.

  Elizabeth's silvan dress, which was of a pale blue silk, with silverlace and AIGUILLETTES, approached in form to that of the ancientAmazons, and was therefore well suited at once to her height and tothe dignity of her mien, which her conscious rank and long habits ofauthority had rendered in some degree too masculine to be seen to thebest advantage in ordinary female weeds. Leicester's hunting suit ofLincoln green, richly embroidered with gold, and crossed by the gaybaldric which sustained a bugle-horn, and a wood-knife instead of asword, became its master, as did his other vestments of court or of war.For such were the perfections of his form and mien, that Leicester wasalways supposed to be seen to the greatest advantage in the characterand dress which for the time he represented or wore.

  The conversation of Elizabeth and the favourite Earl has not reachedus in detail. But those who watched at some distance (and the eyes ofcourtiers and court ladies are right sharp) were of opinion that on nooccasion did the dignity of Elizabeth, in gesture and motion, seemso decidedly to soften away into a mien expressive of indecision andtenderness. Her step was not only slow, but even unequal, a thing mostunwonted in her carriage; her looks seemed bent on the ground; and therewas a timid disposition to withdraw from her companion, which externalgesture in females often indicates exactly the opposite tendency inthe secret mind. The Duchess of Rutland, who ventured nearest, was evenheard to aver that she discerned a tear in Elizabeth's eye and a blushon her cheek; and still further, "She bent her looks on the ground toavoid mine," said the Duchess, "she who, in her ordinary mood, couldlook down a lion." To what conclusion these symptoms led is sufficientlyevident; nor were they probably entirely groundless. The progress ofa private conversation betwixt two persons of different sexes is oftendecisive of their fate, and gives it a turn very different perhapsfrom what they themselves anticipated. Gallantry becomes mingled withconversation, and affection and passion come gradually to mix withgallantry. Nobles, as well as shepherd swains, will, in such a tryingmoment, say more than they intended; and Queens, like village maidens,will listen longer than they should.

  Horses in the meanwhile neighed and champed the bits with impatience inthe base-court; hounds yelled in their couples; and yeomen, rangers, andprickers lamented the exhaling of the dew, which would prevent the scentfrom lying. But Leicester had another chase in view--or, to speak morejustly towards him, had become engaged in it without premeditation, asthe high-spirited hunter which follows the cry of the hounds that havecrossed his path by accident. The Queen, an accomplished and handsomewoman, the pride of England, the hope of France and Holland, and thedread of Spain, had probably listened with more than usual favour tothat mixture of romantic gallantry with which she always loved to beaddressed; and the Earl had, in vanity, in ambition, or in both, thrownin more and more of that delicious ingredient, until his importunitybecame the language of love itself.

  "No, Dudley," said Elizabeth, yet it was with broken accents--"no, Imust be the mother of my people. Other ties, that make the lowly maidenhappy, are denied to her Sovereign. No, Leicester, urge it no more.Were I as others, free to seek my own happiness, then, indeed--but itcannot--cannot be. Delay the chase--delay it for half an hour--and leaveme, my lord."

  "How! leave you, madam?" said Leicester,--"has my madness offended you?"

  "No, Leicester, not so!" answered the Queen hastily; "but it is madness,and must not be repeated. Go--but go not far from hence; and meantimelet no one intrude on my privacy."

  While she spoke thus, Dudley bowed deeply, and retired with a slowand melancholy air. The Queen stood gazing after him, and murmured toherself, "Were it possible--were it BUT possible!--but no--no; Elizabethmust be the wife and mother of England alone."

  As she spoke thus, and in order to avoid some one whose step she heardapproaching, the Queen turned into the grotto in which her hapless, andyet but too successful, rival lay concealed.

  The mind of England's Elizabeth, if somewhat shaken by the agitatinginterview to which she had just put a period, was of that firm anddecided character which soon recovers its natural tone. It was like oneof those ancient Druidical monuments called Rocking-stones. The fingerof Cupid, boy as he is painted, could put her feelings in motion; butthe power of Hercules could not have destroyed their equilibrium. As sheadvanced with a slow pace towards the inmost extremity of the grotto,her countenance, ere she had proceeded half the length, had recoveredits dignity of look, and her mien its air of command.

  It was then the Queen became aware that a female figure was placedbeside, or rather partly behind, an alabaster column, at the foot ofwhich arose the pellucid fountain which occupied the inmost recess ofthe twilight grotto. The classical mind of Elizabeth suggested the storyof Numa and Egeria, and she doubted not that some Italian sculptor hadhere represented the Naiad whose inspirations gave laws to Rome. As sheadvanced, she became doubtful whether she beheld a statue, or a formof flesh and blood. The unfortunate Amy, indeed, remained motionless,betwixt the desire which she had to make her condition known to one ofher own sex, and her awe for the stately form which approached her,and which, though her eyes had never before beheld, her fears instantlysuspected to be the personage she really was. Amy had arisen from herseat with the purpose of addressing the lady who entered the grottoalone, and, as she at first thought, so opportunely. But when sherecollected the alarm which Leicester had expressed at the Queen'sknowing aught of their union, and became more and more satisfied thatthe person whom she now beheld was Elizabeth herself, she stood withone foot advanced and one withdrawn, her arms, head, and hands perfectlymotionless, and her cheek as pallid as the alabaster pedestal againstwhich she leaned. Her dress was of pale sea-green silk, littledistinguished in that imperfect light, and somewhat resembled thedrapery of a Grecian Nymph, such an antique disguise having been thoughtthe most secure, where so many maskers and revellers were assembled; sothat the Queen's doubt of her being a living form was well justified byall contingent circumstances, as well as by the bloodless cheek and thefixed eye.

  Elizabeth remained in doubt, even after she had approached within a fewpaces, whether she did not gaze on a statue so cunningly fashioned thatby the doubtful light it could not be distinguished from reality. Shestopped, therefore, and fixed upon this interesting object her princelylook with so much keenness that the astonishment which had kept Amyimmovable gave way to awe, and she gradually cast down her eyes, anddrooped her head under the commanding gaze of the Sovereign. Still,however, she remained in all respects, saving this slow and profo
undinclination of the head, motionless and silent.

  From her dress, and the casket which she instinctively held in her hand,Elizabeth naturally conjectured that the beautiful but mute figure whichshe beheld was a performer in one of the various theatrical pageantswhich had been placed in different situations to surprise her with theirhomage; and that the poor player, overcome with awe at her presence, hadeither forgot the part assigned her, or lacked courage to go throughit. It was natural and courteous to give her some encouragement; andElizabeth accordingly said, in a tone of condescending kindness, "Hownow, fair Nymph of this lovely grotto, art thou spell-bound and struckwith dumbness by the charms of the wicked enchanter whom men term Fear?We are his sworn enemy, maiden, and can reverse his charm. Speak, wecommand thee."

  Instead of answering her by speech, the unfortunate Countess droppedon her knee before the Queen, let her casket fall from her hand, andclasping her palms together, looked up in the Queen's face with such amixed agony of fear and supplication, that Elizabeth was considerablyaffected.

  "What may this mean?" she said; "this is a stronger passion than befitsthe occasion. Stand up, damsel--what wouldst thou have with us?"

  "Your protection, madam," faltered forth the unhappy petitioner.

  "Each daughter of England has it while she is worthy of it," replied theQueen; "but your distress seems to have a deeper root than a forgottentask. Why, and in what, do you crave our protection?"

  Amy hastily endeavoured to recall what she were best to say, which mightsecure herself from the imminent dangers that surrounded her, withoutendangering her husband; and plunging from one thought to another,amidst the chaos which filled her mind, she could at length, in answerto the Queen's repeated inquiries in what she sought protection, onlyfalter out, "Alas! I know not."

  "This is folly, maiden," said Elizabeth impatiently; for there wassomething in the extreme confusion of the suppliant which irritated hercuriosity, as well as interested her feelings. "The sick man must tellhis malady to the physician; nor are WE accustomed to ask questions sooft without receiving an answer."

  "I request--I implore," stammered forth the unfortunate Countess--"Ibeseech your gracious protection--against--against one Varney." Shechoked well-nigh as she uttered the fatal word, which was instantlycaught up by the Queen.

  "What, Varney--Sir Richard Varney--the servant of Lord Leicester! what,damsel, are you to him, or he to you?"

  "I--I--was his prisoner--and he practised on my life--and I broke forthto--to--"

  "To throw thyself on my protection, doubtless," said Elizabeth. "Thoushalt have it--that is, if thou art worthy; for we will sift this matterto the uttermost. Thou art," she said, bending on the Countess an eyewhich seemed designed to pierce her very inmost soul--"thou art Amy,daughter of Sir Hugh Robsart of Lidcote Hall?"

  "Forgive me--forgive me, most gracious Princess!" said Amy, droppingonce more on her knee, from which she had arisen.

  "For what should I forgive thee, silly wench?" said Elizabeth; "forbeing the daughter of thine own father? Thou art brain-sick, surely.Well I see I must wring the story from thee by inches. Thou didstdeceive thine old and honoured father--thy look confesses it--cheatedMaster Tressilian--thy blush avouches it--and married this same Varney."

  Amy sprung on her feet, and interrupted the Queen eagerly with, "No,madam, no! as there is a God above us, I am not the sordid wretch youwould make me! I am not the wife of that contemptible slave--of thatmost deliberate villain! I am not the wife of Varney! I would rather bethe bride of Destruction!"

  The Queen, overwhelmed in her turn by Amy's vehemence, stood silent foran instant, and then replied, "Why, God ha' mercy, woman! I see thoucanst talk fast enough when the theme likes thee. Nay, tell me, woman,"she continued, for to the impulse of curiosity was now added that of anundefined jealousy that some deception had been practised on her--"tellme, woman--for, by God's day, I WILL know--whose wife, or whoseparamour, art thou! Speak out, and be speedy. Thou wert better dailywith a lioness than with Elizabeth."

  Urged to this extremity, dragged as it were by irresistible force to theverge of the precipice which she saw, but could not avoid--permittednot a moment's respite by the eager words and menacing gestures of theoffended Queen, Amy at length uttered in despair, "The Earl of Leicesterknows it all."

  "The Earl of Leicester!" said Elizabeth, in utter astonishment. "TheEarl of Leicester!" she repeated with kindling anger. "Woman, thou artset on to this--thou dost belie him--he takes no keep of such thingsas thou art. Thou art suborned to slander the noblest lord and thetruest-hearted gentleman in England! But were he the right hand of ourtrust, or something yet dearer to us, thou shalt have thy hearing, andthat in his presence. Come with me--come with me instantly!"

  As Amy shrunk back with terror, which the incensed Queen interpreted asthat of conscious guilt, Elizabeth rapidly advanced, seized on her arm,and hastened with swift and long steps out of the grotto, and alongthe principal alley of the Pleasance, dragging with her the terrifiedCountess, whom she still held by the arm, and whose utmost exertionscould but just keep pace with those of the indignant Queen.

  Leicester was at this moment the centre of a splendid group of lords andladies, assembled together under an arcade, or portico, which closedthe alley. The company had drawn together in that place, to attend thecommands of her Majesty when the hunting-party should go forward, andtheir astonishment may be imagined when, instead of seeing Elizabethadvance towards them with her usual measured dignity of motion, theybeheld her walking so rapidly that she was in the midst of them ere theywere aware; and then observed, with fear and surprise, that her featureswere flushed betwixt anger and agitation, that her hair was loosened byher haste of motion, and that her eyes sparkled as they were wont whenthe spirit of Henry VIII. mounted highest in his daughter. Nor were theyless astonished at the appearance of the pale, attenuated, half-dead,yet still lovely female, whom the Queen upheld by main strength withone hand, while with the other she waved aside the ladies and nobleswho pressed towards her, under the idea that she was taken suddenly ill."Where is my Lord of Leicester?" she said, in a tone that thrilled withastonishment all the courtiers who stood around. "Stand forth, my Lordof Leicester!"

  If, in the midst of the most serene day of summer, when all is light andlaughing around, a thunderbolt were to fall from the clear blue vault ofheaven, and rend the earth at the very feet of some careless traveller,he could not gaze upon the smouldering chasm, which so unexpectedlyyawned before him, with half the astonishment and fear which Leicesterfelt at the sight that so suddenly presented itself. He had thatinstant been receiving, with a political affectation of disavowingand misunderstanding their meaning, the half-uttered, half-intimatedcongratulations of the courtiers upon the favour of the Queen, carriedapparently to its highest pitch during the interview of that morning,from which most of them seemed to augur that he might soon arise fromtheir equal in rank to become their master. And now, while the subduedyet proud smile with which he disclaimed those inferences was yetcurling his cheek, the Queen shot into the circle, her passions excitedto the uttermost; and supporting with one hand, and apparently withoutan effort, the pale and sinking form of his almost expiring wife,and pointing with the finger of the other to her half-dead features,demanded in a voice that sounded to the ears of the astounded statesmanlike the last dread trumpet-call that is to summon body and spirit tothe judgment-seat, "Knowest thou this woman?"

  As, at the blast of that last trumpet, the guilty shall call upon themountains to cover them, Leicester's inward thoughts invoked the statelyarch which he had built in his pride to burst its strong conjunction,and overwhelm them in its ruins. But the cemented stones, architrave andbattlement, stood fast; and it was the proud master himself who, asif some actual pressure had bent him to the earth, kneeled down beforeElizabeth, and prostrated his brow to the marble flag-stones on whichshe stood.

  "Leicester," said Elizabeth, in a voice which trembled with passion,"could I think thou hast practised on me--on me t
hy Sovereign--on me thyconfiding, thy too partial mistress, the base and ungrateful deceptionwhich thy present confusion surmises--by all that is holy, false lord,that head of thine were in as great peril as ever was thy father's!"

  Leicester had not conscious innocence, but he had pride to support him.He raised slowly his brow and features, which were black and swoln withcontending emotions, and only replied, "My head cannot fall but by thesentence of my peers. To them I will plead, and not to a princess whothus requites my faithful service."

  "What! my lords," said Elizabeth, looking around, "we are defied, Ithink--defied in the Castle we have ourselves bestowed on this proudman!--My Lord Shrewsbury, you are Marshal of England, attach him of hightreason."

  "Whom does your Grace mean?" said Shrewsbury, much surprised, for he hadthat instant joined the astonished circle.

  "Whom should I mean, but that traitor Dudley, Earl of Leicester!--Cousinof Hunsdon, order out your band of gentlemen pensioners, and take himinto instant custody. I say, villain, make haste!"

  Hunsdon, a rough old noble, who, from his relationship to the Boleyns,was accustomed to use more freedom with the Queen than almost any otherdared to do, replied bluntly, "And it is like your Grace might order meto the Tower to-morrow for making too much haste. I do beseech you to bepatient."

  "Patient--God's life!" exclaimed the Queen--"name not the word to me;thou knowest not of what he is guilty!"

  Amy, who had by this time in some degree recovered herself, and who sawher husband, as she conceived, in the utmost danger from the rage of anoffended Sovereign, instantly (and alas! how many women have done thesame) forgot her own wrongs and her own danger in her apprehensions forhim, and throwing herself before the Queen, embraced her knees, whileshe exclaimed, "He is guiltless, madam--he is guiltless; no one can layaught to the charge of the noble Leicester!"

  "Why, minion," answered the Queen, "didst not thou thyself say that theEarl of Leicester was privy to thy whole history?"

  "Did I say so?" repeated the unhappy Amy, laying aside everyconsideration of consistency and of self-interest. "Oh, if I did, Ifoully belied him. May God so judge me, as I believe he was never privyto a thought that would harm me!"

  "Woman!" said Elizabeth, "I will know who has moved thee to this; ormy wrath--and the wrath of kings is a flaming fire--shall wither andconsume thee like a weed in the furnace!"

  As the Queen uttered this threat, Leicester's better angel calledhis pride to his aid, and reproached him with the utter extremityof meanness which would overwhelm him for ever if he stooped to takeshelter under the generous interposition of his wife, and abandonedher, in return for her kindness, to the resentment of the Queen. He hadalready raised his head with the dignity of a man of honour to avowhis marriage, and proclaim himself the protector of his Countess, whenVarney, born, as it appeared, to be his master's evil genius, rushedinto the presence with every mark of disorder on his face and apparel.

  "What means this saucy intrusion?" said Elizabeth.

  Varney, with the air of a man altogether overwhelmed with grief andconfusion, prostrated himself before her feet, exclaiming, "Pardon, myLiege, pardon!--or at least let your justice avenge itself on me, whereit is due; but spare my noble, my generous, my innocent patron andmaster!"

  Amy, who was yet kneeling, started up as she saw the man whom she deemedmost odious place himself so near her, and was about to fly towardsLeicester, when, checked at once by the uncertainty and even timiditywhich his looks had reassumed as soon as the appearance of his confidantseemed to open a new scene, she hung back, and uttering a faint scream,besought of her Majesty to cause her to be imprisoned in the lowestdungeon of the Castle--to deal with her as the worst of criminals--"butspare," she exclaimed, "my sight and hearing what will destroy thelittle judgment I have left--the sight of that unutterable and mostshameless villain!"

  "And why, sweetheart?" said the Queen, moved by a new impulse; "whathath he, this false knight, since such thou accountest him, done tothee?"

  "Oh, worse than sorrow, madam, and worse than injury--he has sowndissension where most there should be peace. I shall go mad if I looklonger on him!"

  "Beshrew me, but I think thou art distraught already," answered theQueen.--"My Lord Hunsdon, look to this poor distressed young woman, andlet her be safely bestowed, and in honest keeping, till we require herto be forthcoming."

  Two or three of the ladies in attendance, either moved by compassionfor a creature so interesting, or by some other motive, offered theirservices to look after her; but the Queen briefly answered, "Ladies,under favour, no. You have all (give God thanks) sharp ears and nimbletongues; our kinsman Hunsdon has ears of the dullest, and a tonguesomewhat rough, but yet of the slowest.--Hunsdon, look to it that nonehave speech of her."

  "By Our Lady," said Hunsdon, taking in his strong, sinewy arms thefading and almost swooning form of Amy, "she is a lovely child! andthough a rough nurse, your Grace hath given her a kind one. She is safewith me as one of my own ladybirds of daughters."

  So saying, he carried her off; unresistingly and almost unconsciously,his war-worn locks and long, grey beard mingling with her light-browntresses, as her head reclined on his strong, square shoulder. The Queenfollowed him with her eye. She had already, with that self-command whichforms so necessary a part of a Sovereign's accomplishments, suppressedevery appearance of agitation, and seemed as if she desired to banishall traces of her burst of passion from the recollection of those whohad witnessed it. "My Lord of Hunsdon says well," she observed, "he isindeed but a rough nurse for so tender a babe."

  "My Lord of Hunsdon," said the Dean of St. Asaph--"I speak it not indefamation of his more noble qualities--hath a broad license in speech,and garnishes his discourse somewhat too freely with the cruel andsuperstitious oaths which savour both of profaneness and of oldPapistrie."

  "It is the fault of his blood, Mr. Dean," said the Queen, turningsharply round upon the reverend dignitary as she spoke; "and you mayblame mine for the same distemperature. The Boleyns were ever a hot andplain-spoken race, more hasty to speak their mind than careful tochoose their expressions. And by my word--I hope there is no sin in thataffirmation--I question if it were much cooled by mixing with that ofTudor."

  As she made this last observation she smiled graciously, and stole hereyes almost insensibly round to seek those of the Earl of Leicester, towhom she now began to think she had spoken with hasty harshness upon theunfounded suspicion of a moment.

  The Queen's eye found the Earl in no mood to accept the implied offerof conciliation. His own looks had followed, with late and ruefulrepentance, the faded form which Hunsdon had just borne from thepresence. They now reposed gloomily on the ground, but more--so at leastit seemed to Elizabeth--with the expression of one who has received anunjust affront, than of him who is conscious of guilt. She turned herface angrily from him, and said to Varney, "Speak, Sir Richard, andexplain these riddles--thou hast sense and the use of speech, at least,which elsewhere we look for in vain."

  As she said this, she darted another resentful glance towards Leicester,while the wily Varney hastened to tell his own story.

  "Your Majesty's piercing eye," he said, "has already detected the cruelmalady of my beloved lady, which, unhappy that I am, I would not sufferto be expressed in the certificate of her physician, seeking to concealwhat has now broken out with so much the more scandal."

  "She is then distraught?" said the Queen. "Indeed we doubted not ofit; her whole demeanour bears it out. I found her moping in a corner ofyonder grotto; and every word she spoke--which indeed I dragged from heras by the rack--she instantly recalled and forswore. But how came shehither? Why had you her not in safe-keeping?"

  "My gracious Liege," said Varney, "the worthy gentleman under whosecharge I left her, Master Anthony Foster, has come hither but now, asfast as man and horse can travel, to show me of her escape, whichshe managed with the art peculiar to many who are afflicted with thismalady. He is at hand for examination."

  "Let it be fo
r another time," said the Queen. "But, Sir Richard, we envyyou not your domestic felicity; your lady railed on you bitterly, andseemed ready to swoon at beholding you."

  "It is the nature of persons in her disorder, so please your Grace,"answered Varney, "to be ever most inveterate in their spleen againstthose whom, in their better moments, they hold nearest and dearest."

  "We have heard so, indeed," said Elizabeth, "and give faith to thesaying."

  "May your Grace then be pleased," said Varney, "to command myunfortunate wife to be delivered into the custody of her friends?"

  Leicester partly started; but making a strong effort, he subdued hisemotion, while Elizabeth answered sharply, "You are something too hasty,Master Varney. We will have first a report of the lady's health andstate of mind from Masters, our own physician, and then determine whatshall be thought just. You shall have license, however, to see her, thatif there be any matrimonial quarrel betwixt you--such things we haveheard do occur, even betwixt a loving couple--you may make it up,without further scandal to our court or trouble to ourselves."

  Varney bowed low, and made no other answer.

  Elizabeth again looked towards Leicester, and said, with a degree ofcondescension which could only arise out of the most heartfelt interest,"Discord, as the Italian poet says, will find her way into peacefulconvents, as well as into the privacy of families; and we fear ourown guards and ushers will hardly exclude her from courts. My Lord ofLeicester, you are offended with us, and we have right to be offendedwith you. We will take the lion's part upon us, and be the first toforgive."

  Leicester smoothed his brow, as by an effort; but the trouble was toodeep-seated that its placidity should at once return. He said, however,that which fitted the occasion, "That he could not have the happiness offorgiving, because she who commanded him to do so could commit no injurytowards him."

  Elizabeth seemed content with this reply, and intimated her pleasurethat the sports of the morning should proceed. The bugles sounded, thehounds bayed, the horses pranced--but the courtiers and ladies soughtthe amusement to which they were summoned with hearts very differentfrom those which had leaped to the morning's REVIELLE. There was doubt,and fear, and expectation on every brow, and surmise and intrigue inevery whisper.

  Blount took an opportunity to whisper into Raleigh's ear, "This stormcame like a levanter in the Mediterranean."

  "VARIUM ET MUTABILE," answered Raleigh, in a similar tone.

  "Nay, I know nought of your Latin," said Blount; "but I thank GodTressilian took not the sea during that hurricane. He could scarce havemissed shipwreck, knowing as he does so little how to trim his sails toa court gale."

  "Thou wouldst have instructed him!" said Raleigh.

  "Why, I have profited by my time as well as thou, Sir Walter," repliedhonest Blount. "I am knight as well as thou, and of the earliercreation."

  "Now, God further thy wit," said Raleigh. "But for Tressilian, I would Iknew what were the matter with him. He told me this morning he would notleave his chamber for the space of twelve hours or thereby, being boundby a promise. This lady's madness, when he shall learn it, will not, Ifear, cure his infirmity. The moon is at the fullest, and men's brainsare working like yeast. But hark! they sound to mount. Let us to horse,Blount; we young knights must deserve our spurs."