side of the high altar, by the die Blanch his first wife. The death of this duke gave occasion of encreasing more hatred in the people of this realme toward the king, for he seased into his handes all the goods that belonged to hym, and also receyved all the rents and revenues of his landes which ought to have descended unto the duke of Hereforde by lawful inheritaunce, in revoking his letters patents, which he had graunted to him before, by vertue wherof, he might make his attorneis general to sue livery for hym, of any maner of inheritaunces or possessions that myghte from thenceforthe fall unto hym, and that hys homage myghte bee respited, wyth making reasonable fine: whereby it was evident, that the king ment his utter undooing.

"Thys harde dealing was much mysliked of all the nobilitie, and cried out against, of the meaner sorte: But namely the Duke of Yorke was therewyth sore amoved, who before this time, had borne things with so pacient a minde as he could, though the same touched him very near, as the death of his brother the duke of Gloucester, the banishment of hys nephewe the said duke of Hereford, and other mo iniuries in greate number, which for the slipperie youth of the king, he passed over for the time, and did forget as well as he might."HOLINSHED, 1399.

(3) SCENE I.—

:

With eight tall ships, three thousand men of war, Are making hither with all due expedience, And shortly mean to touch our northern shore.] "There were certeine ships rigged, and made readie for him [the duke of Lancaster] at a place in base Britaine, called Le portblanc, as we find in the chronicles of Britaine and when all his provision was made readie, he took the sea, togither with the said archbishop of Canturburie and his nephue Thomas Arundell, sonne and heire to the late earle of Arundell, beheaded at the Tower-hill, as you have heard. There were also with him, Reginald, lord Cobham, sir Thomas Erpingham, and sir Thomas Ramston, knights, John Norburie, Robert Waterton, and Francis Coint, esquires;. few else were there, for (as some write) he had not past fifteene lances, as they tearmed them in those daies, that is to saie, men of armes, furnished and appointed as the vse then was. Yet other write that the duke of Britaine delivered unto him three thousand men of warre, to attend him, and that he had eight ships well furnished for the warre where Froissard yet speaketh but of three. The duke of Lancaster, after that he had coasted along the shore a certeine time, and had got some intelligence how the people's minds were affected towards him, landed about the beginning of Julie in Yorkshire, at a place sometime called Ravenspur, betwixt Hull and Bridlington, and with him not past threescore persons, as some write: but he was so ioifullie received of the lords, knights, and gentlemen of those parts, that he found means (by their helpe) forthwith to assemble a great number of people, that were willing to take his part. The first that came to him, were the lords of Lincolneshire, and other countries adioining, as the lords Willoughbie, Ros, Darcie, and Beaumont."-HOLINSHED, 1399.

* * *

(4) SCENE II.

Like perspectives, which, rightly gaz'd upon,
Show nothing but confusion,-ey'd awry,
Distinguish form.]

Authorities are at variance as to what these "perspectives" were. Warburton describes them as an optical delusion, consisting of a figure drawn with all the rules of perspective inverted: so that, when held in the same position with those pictures which are drawn in accordance with the principles of perspective, it can present nothing but confusion: while to be seen in form, it must be looked upon from a contrary station; or, as Shakespeare says, ey'd awry.

Dr. Plot, on the other hand, in his "Natural History of Staffordshire," fol. Oxford, 1686, p. 391, gives the following

account of some perspectives he had seen at Lord Gerard's house :

At the right Honorable the Lord Gerards at Gerards Bromley, there are the pictures of Henry the great of France and his Queen, both upon the same indented board, which if beheld directly, you only perceive a confused piece of work; but if obliquely, of one side you see the king's and on the other the queen's picture, which I am told (and not unlikely), were made thus. The board being indented according to the magnitude of the Pictures, the prints or paintings were cut into parallel pieces, equal to the depth and number of the indentures on the board; which being nicely done, the parallel pieces of the king's picture, were pasted on the Flatts that strike the eye beholding it obliquely, on one side of the board; and those of the queens on the other; so that the edges of the parallel pieces of the prints or paintings exactly joyning on the edges of the indentures, the work was done."

(5) SCENE IV.—

We have stay d ten days,

And hardly kept our countrymen together,
And yet we hear no tidings from the king;

Therefore we will disperse ourselves: farewell.]

"It fortuned at the same time, in which the Duke of Hereford or Lancaster, whether ye list to call him, arrived thus in England, the seas were so troubled by tempests, and the winds blew so contraric for anie passage, to come over forth of England to the king, remaining still in Ireland, that for the space of six weeks, he received no advertisements from thence: yet at length, when the seas became calme, and the wind once turned aniething favourable, there came over a ship, whereby the king understood the manner of the duke's arrivall, and all his proceedings till that daie, in which the ship departed from the coast of England, whereupon he meant forthwith to have returned over into England, to make resistance against the duke; but through persuasion of the duke of Aumarle (as was thought) he staied till he might have all his ships and other provision, fullie readio for his passage.

"In the meane time he sent the earle of Salisburie over into England, to gather a power togither, by helpe of the king's freends in Wales and Cheshire, with all speed possible, that they might be readie to assist him against the duke upon his arrivall, for he meant himself to follow the earle, within six daies after. The earl passing over into Wales, landed at Conwaie, and sent foorth letters to the kings freends, both in Wales and Cheshire, to leauie their people, and to come with all speed to assist the king, whose request, with great desire, and very willing minds they fulfilled, hoping to have found the king himselfe at Conwaie, insomuch that within four daies space there were to the number of fortie thousand men assembled, readie to march with the king against his enimies, if he had beene there himselfe in person.

"But when they missed the king, there was a brute spred amongst them, that the king was suerlie dead, which wrought such an impression, and evill disposition in the minds of the Welshmen and others, that for anie persuasion which the earle of Salisburie might vse, they would not go foorth with him, till they saw the king; onelie they were contented to staie foureteene daies to see if he should come or not; but when he came not within that tearme, they would no longer abide, but scaled and departed awaie; wheras, if the king had come before their breaking up, no doubt but they would have put the duke of Hereford in adventure of a field: so that the king's lingering of time before his comming over, gave opportunitie to the duke to bring things to passe as he could haue wished, and tooke from the king all occasion to recover afterwards anie forces sufficient to resist him."

Holinshed, from whom the foregoing extract is taken, agrees here in the main with the other historians; but the most entertaining and circumstantial narrative of all the events connected with Richard's sojourn in Ireland, his skirmishes with the Irish chieftain, Macmore, his

recepton of the terrible news of Bolingbroke's landing, of the people's insurrection, of his tardy return to England, down to his deposition and death, is contained in a manuscript entitled "Histoire du Roy d'Angleterre Richard, Traictant particulierement la Rebellion de ses subiectz et prinse de sa personne. Composee par un gentlchom'e Francois de Marque, qui fut a la suite du dict Roy, avecq permission du Roy de France, 1399." This metrical history, of which a beautifully illuminated copy is preserved in the library of the British Museum, has been ably translated by the Rev. John Webb, and published in vol. xx. of the "Archæologia." From this invaluable contribution to English history, we are tempted to extract the author's account, as witnessed by himself, of the dispersion of the Welsh army:

"He [the king] sent for the earl of Salisbury, saying, 'Cousin, you must go to England and resist this mad enterprise of the duke, and let his people be put to death, or taken prisoners; and learn too, how and by what means he hath thus troubled my land, and set it against me.' The earl said, 'Sir, upon mine honour I will perform it in such manner, that in a short time you shall hear of this disturbance, or I will suffer the penalty of death.' 'Fair cousin, I know it well,' said the king, and will myself set forward to pass over as speedily as I may, for never shall I have comfort or repose so long as the false traitor, who hath now played me such a trick, shall be alive. If I can but get him in my power, I will cause him to be put to death in such a manner that it shall be spoken of long enough, even in Turkey.' The earl caused his people and vessels to be made ready for immediate departure, gravely took leave of the king, and entreated him to proceed with all possible haste. The king, upon his advice, promised him, happen what might, that he would put to sea within six days. At that time the earl, who had great desire to set out in defence of the right of king Richard, had earnestly prayed me to go over with him, for the sake of merriment and song, and thereto I heartily agreed. My companion and myself went over the sea with him. Now it came to pass that the earl landed at Conway. I assure you, it was the strongest and fairest town in Wales.

"There we were told of the enterprise of the duke; a more cruel one shall, I think, never be spoken of in any land. For they told us, that he had already conquered the greater part of England, and taken towns and castles; that he had displaced officers, and everywhere set up a different establishment in his own name; that he had put to death, without mercy, as a sovereign lord, all those whom he held in displeasure.

"When the earl heard these doleful tidings, it was no wonder that he was alarmed, for the duke had gained over the greater part of the nobles of England, and we were assured that there were full sixty thousand men ready for war. The earl then quickly sent his summons, throughout Wales and Chester, that all gentlemen, archers, and other persons, should come to him without delay, upon pain of death, to take part with King Richard who loved them. This they were very desirous to do, thinking of a truth that the king had arrived at Conway: I am certain that forty thousand were trained and mustered in the field within four days, every one eager to fight with all who wished ill to the ever preux and valiant King Richard. Then the earl, who endured great pain and trouble, went to them all, and declared to them with a solemn oath, that before three days were ended, he would so straiten the duke and his people, that for this time they should advance no farther to waste the land. Soon after, he found the whole of his friends assembled together in the field; he spake to them well-advisedly, 'My good gentlemen, let us all make haste to avenge King Richard in his absence, that

he may be satisfied with us for the time to come: for mir own part I purpose neither to stop nor to take rest, till such time as I shall have made my attempt upon these who are so traitorous and cruel towards him. Let us go

hence, and march directly towards them. God will help us, if we are diligent in assaulting them; for, according to our law, it is the duty of every one in many cases to support the right until death.'

When the Welshmen understood that the king was not there, they were all sorrowful, murmuring to one another in great companies, full of alarm, thinking that the king was dead of grief, and dreading the horrible and great severity of the Duke of Lancaster and his people. They were not well satisfied with the earl, saying, 'Sir, be assured that for the present we will advance no farther, since the king is not here; and do you know wherefore? Behold the duke is subduing everything to himself, which is a great terror and trouble to us; for indeed we think that the king is dead, since he is not arrived with you at the port; were he here, right or wrong, each of us would be eager to assail his enemies. But now we will not go with you.' The earl at this was so wroth at heart, that he had almost gone out of his senses with vexation; he shed tears. It was a great pity to see how he was treated. 'Alas!' said he, 'what shame befalleth me this day! O death, come unto me without delay; put an end to me; I loath my destiny. Alas! now will the king suppose that I have devised treason.'

"While thus he mourned, he said, 'My comrades, as you hope for mercy, come with me, I beseech you; so shall we be champions for King Richard, who within four days and a half will be here; for he told me when I quitted Ireland, that he would upon his life embark before the week was ended. Sirs, I pray you let us hasten to depart.' It availed nothing; they stood all mournfully, like men afraid; a great part of them were disposed to betake themselves to the duke, for fear of death. But the earl kept them in the field fourteen days, expecting the coming of King Richard. Many a time said the good earl apart, "Small portion will you have of England, in my opinion, my rightful lord, since you delay so long. What can this mean? certes, I believe you are betrayed, since I hear no true tidings of you in word or deed. Alas! I see these people are troubled with fear, lest the duke should hem them in. They are but common ignorant people. They will desert me.' So said the good earl to himself in the field; while he was serving with those who in a little time all abandoned him; some went their way straight to the duke, and the rest returned into Wales; so they left the earl encamped with none but his own men, who did not, I think, amount to a hundred. He lamented it greatly, saying, in a sorrowful manner, 'Let us make our retreat, for our enterprise goeth on very badly.'

(6) SCENE IV.—

The bay-trees in our country are all withered.]

"In this year in a manner throughout all the realme of England, old baie trees withered, and afterwards, contrarie to all men's thinking, grew greene againe, a strange sight, and supposed to import some unknown event.-HOLINSHED, 1399.

This was usually held to be an evil prognostic, for the bay-tree, from very early ages, was believed to exercise a powerfully beneficial influence upon the place where it flourished:-" Neyther falling sycknes, neyther devyll, wyl infest or hurt one in that place whereas a Bay-tree is. The Romaynes calles it the plant of the good angell," &c. -LUPTON'S Syxt Booke of Notable Thinges.

(1) SCENE II.-Mine ear is open, &c.] "It seems to be the design of the poet to raise Richard to esteem in his fall, and consequently to interest the reader in his favour. He gives him only passive fortitude,-the virtue of a confessor, rather than of a king. In his prosperity we saw him imperious and oppressive; but in his distress he is wise, patient, and pious."-JOHNSON.

(2) SCENE II.

For within the hollow crown

That rounds the mortal temples of a king, Keeps Death his court; and there the antic sits, Scoffing his state, and grinning at his pomp.] "Some part of this fine description might have been suggested from the seventh print in the Imagines Mortis, a celebrated series of wooden cuts which have been improperly attributed to Holbein. It is probable that Shakespeare might have seen some spurious edition of this work; for the great scarcity of the original in this country in former times is apparent, when Hollar could not procure the use of it for his copy of the Dance of Death."DOUCE. An admirable modern illustration of this noble passage, may be seen in J. H. Mortimer's etching of Richard II. in a series of twelve characteristic heads from Shakespeare.

(3) SCENE III.-Then I must not say, no.] The interview between King Richard and Bolingbroke, at Flint, is thus narrated by the author of the French Metrical History, who was an eye witness of all that passed.

"The Duke entered the castle armed at all points, except his basinet. Then they made the king, who had dined in the donjon, come down to meet Duke Henry, who, as soon as he perceived him at a distance, bowed very low to the ground; and as they approached each other, he bowed a second time, with his cap in his hand; and then

And

the king took off his bonnet, and spake first in this manner: Fair cousin of Lancaster, you be right welcome.' Then Duke Henry replied, bowing very low to the ground, 'My Lord, I am come sooner than you sent for me: the reason wherefore I will tell you. The common report of your people is such, that you have, for the space of twenty or two and twenty years, governed them very badly and very rigorously, and in so much that they are not well contented therewith. But if it please our Lord, I will help you to govern them better than they have been governed in time past.' King Richard then answered him, Fair cousin, since it pleaseth you, it pleaseth us well.' And be assured that these are the very words that they two spake together, without taking away or adding anything: for I heard and understood them very well. the earl of Salisbury also rehearsed them to me in French, and another aged knight who was one of the council of Duke Henry. He told me as we rode to Chester, that Merlin and Bede had, from the time in which they lived, prophesied of the taking and ruin of the king, and that if I were in his castle he would show it me in form and manner as I had seen it come to pass. ***** Thus, as you have heard, came Duke Henry to the castle and spake unto the king, to the Bishop of Carlisle, and the two knights, Sir Stephen Scroope and Ferriby; howbeit unto the earl of Salisbury he spake not at all, but sent word to him by a knight in this manner, 'Earl of Salisbury, be assured that no more than you deigned to speak to my lord the duke of Lancaster, when he and you were in Paris at Christmas last past, will he speak unto you.' Then was the earl much abashed, and had great fear and dread at heart, for he saw plainly that the duke mortally hated him: The said Duke Henry called aloud with a stern and savage voice, 'Bring out the king's horses; and then they brought him two little horses that were not worth forty franks: the king mounted one, and the earl of Salisbury the other. Everyone got on horseback, and we set out from the said castle of Flint about two hours after mid-day."

(1) SCENE I.—

Lest child, child's children, cry against you-woe!] In the Bishop's bold and animated defence of the rights of kings, Shakespeare followed his favourite historical authority, Holinshed:

"On Wednesdaie following, request was made by the commons, that sith King Richard had resigned, and was lawfullie deposed from his roiall dignitie, he might have judgement decreed against him, so as the realme were not troubled by him, and that the causes of his deposing might be published through the realme for satisfying of the people which demand was granted. Whereupon the Bishop of Carleill, a man both learned, wise, and stout of stomach, boldlie shewed forth his opinion concerning that demand; affirming that there was none amongst them worthie or meet to give judgement upon so noble a prince as Richard was, whom they had taken for their sovereigne

and liege lord, by the space of two and twentie yeares and more; And I assure you (said he) there is not so ranke a traitor, nor so errant a theef, nor yetso cruel a murthere apprehended or deteined in prison for his offense, but he shall be brought before the iustice to heare his iudgement; and will ye proceed to the iudgement of an anointed king, hearing neither his answer nor excuse? I say, that the duke of Lancaster whom ye call king, hath more trespassed to king Richard and his realme, than king Richard hath doone either to him or us: for it is manifest and well knowne, that the duke was banished the realme by king Richard and his councell, and by the iudgement of his own father, for the space of ten yeares, for what cause ye know, and yet without license of king Richard, he is returned againe into the realme, and (that is worse) hath taken upon him the name, title, and preheminence of king. And therfore I say, that you have doone manifest wrong, to proceed in anie thing against King Richard, without calling

him openlie to his answer and defense. As soone as the bishop had ended this tale, he was attached by the EarleMarshall, and committed to ward in the abbeie of saint Albons."-HOLINSHED, 1399.

(2) SCENE I.

On Wednesday next, we solemnly set down
Our coronation: lords, prepare yourselves.]

The following is the description of the proceedings at Westminster on the occasion of Richard's deposition; from the "Metrical History:'

"First sat Duke Henry, and next to him the Duke of York, his fair cousin, whose heart was not right faithful towards his nephew, King Richard. After him, on the same side, sat the Duke of Aumarle, the son of the Duke of York; and then the Duke of Surrey, who was ever loyal and true. After him sat the Duke of Exeter, who had no reason to rejoice, for he saw before him preparation made for the ruin of the king, his brother. Early and late this was the wish of them all. Then came another on that side, who was called the Marquess,* lord of a great country. And next the Earl of Arundel, who is right young and active. The Earl of Norvic† next, was not forgotten in the account, neither he of La Marche.‡ There was one who was Earl of Stamford, § and never could agree with his lord, King Richard; on this side also sat one whom I heard called Earl of Pembroke, || and a baron. And close to him was seated the Earl of Salisbury, who so faithfully loved the king that he was loyal to the last. The Earl of Devonshire was there, as I heard. All other earls and lords, the greatest in the kingdom, were present at this assembly, their desire and intention being to choose another king. There, in fair fashion, stood the Earl of Northumberland and the Earl of Westmoreland, the whole of the day, and for the better discharge of their duty, they kneeled very often wherefore, or how it was, I cannot tell.

The archbishop of Canterbury next arose, and preached before all the people in Latin. The whole of his sermon was upon this, Habuit Jacob benedictionem a patre suo: How Jacob had gotten the blessing instead of Esau, although he were the eldest son.' This he set forth as true. Alas, what a text for a sermon ! He made it to prove, in conclusion, that King Richard ought to have no part in the Crown of England, and that the prince ought to have had the realm and territory. These were very ungrateful people; after they had all held him to be rightful king and lord for two-and-twenty years, by a great error they ruined him with one accord.

"When the archbishop had finished his sermon in the Latin language, a lawyer, who was a most sage doctor, and also a notary, arose and commanded silence. For he began to read aloud an instrument which contained how Richard, some time King of England, had avowed and confessed, of his own will, without compulsion, that he was neither capable nor worthy, wise nor prudent, nor gentle enough to bear the crown; and that it was his wish to resign it into the hand of another worthy man of noble birth and greater wisdom than himself. Thus right or wrong, they by agreement caused King Richard to make a declaration in the Tower of London, in a most wicked manner; and then in this parliament read the instrument before all. Its witnesses were bishops and abbots, who affirmed and

* John Beaufort, eldest son of John of Gaunt, by Catherine Swinford, created, 20 Rich. II., Marquess of Dorset and

Somerset.

+ An error of the transcriber; it should. perhaps, be Warwick. There was no Earl of Norwich till the 2d Charles I.

testified that the instrument was entirely true. Now consider this testimony: never was such an outrage heard of.

"When the reading of the instrument was ended, all kept silence, and the archbishop then rose and took up anew his discourse, laying his foundation upon the instrument aforesaid, and speaking so loud, that he was plainly heard of the people. Forasmuch as it is thus, and that Richard, sometime King of England, hath by his words and of his own goodwill acknowledged and confessed that he is not sufficiently able, worthy, or well skilled to govern the kingdom, it were right good to advise and chuse another king.' Alas! fair sirs, what an evil deed! There were they, judge, and party accusing. It was not a thing justly divided nor of legal right; because there was no man in that place for the old king, save three or four who durst upon no account gainsay them. All that they said or did was the greatest mockery; for, great and small, they all agreed, without any dividing, that they would have a king who better knew how to discharge his duty than Richard had done. And when the archbishop had completely made an end in the English language of declaring his will and his evil intention, and the people had replied according to that which they had heard, he began to interrogate and question each man by himself. 'Will you that the duke of York be your king?' All in good order answered 'No.'-' Will you then have his eldest son, who is duke of Aumarle?' They answered aloud, 'Let no one speak to us of him.' Once more agair. he asked, 'Will you then have his youngest son?' They said, 'Nay, truly.' He asked them concerning many others, but the people stopped at none of those that he had named. And then the archbishop ceased to say much. He next inquired aloud, Will you have the duke of Lancaster?' They all at once replied with so loud a voice, that the account which I heard appears marvellous to me, 'Yea, we will have no other.' Then they praised Jesus Christ."

Immediately the ceremony of the deposition of Richard is concluded and the deprived King has departed, Bolingbroke announces the day of his own coronation, the ensuing Wednesday. The real day, however, was Monday, and is so set down in Holinshed; and it is therefore difficult to understand how Shakespeare was led into the mistake, unless it were derived from the old play on this part of English History which has never yet been found.

The Coronation of Henry IV. took place on the Translation of St. Edward the Confessor, Monday, Oct. 13th, 1399, on which occasion the Court of Claims for services was held with great ceremony. It is remarkable as being the first coronation in which the creation of Knights of the Bath is particularly noticed by historians; though there can be no doubt of the practice having prevailed in much earlier times. Forty-six gentlemen, four of whom were Henry's sons, received the Order at the Tower the day before the festival, and watched there the vigil of the Coronation. In this ceremony the new king's policy appears to have been to make the most imposing display of wealth and magnificence possible, as may be seen in the elaborate account of it given by Froissart. There were six thousand horses employed in the cavalcade which attended Henry to Westminster; and the coronation-feast lasted two days, during which nine conduits of wine were kept flowing in Cheapside.

(1) SCENE I.-You must to Pomfret, not unto the Tower.] This is not historically correct; in the prose MSS. concerning the deposition of Richard the Second, preserved in the national library of Paris, there is an extremely interesting and characteristic narrative of an interview which took place between the king and Henry of Lancaster while the former was confined in the Tower. These MSS. record that, when the Dukes of Lancaster and York went to the Tower to see the king, Lancaster desired the Earl of Arundel to send the king to them. When this message was delivered to Richard, he replied, "Tell Henry of Lancaster from me, that I will do no such thing, and that, if he wishes to speak with me, he must come to me.' On entering none shewed any respect to the king, except Lancaster, who took off his hat and saluted him respectfully, and said to him; "Here is our cousin, the Duke of Aumarle, and our uncle, the Duke of York, who wish to speak with you;" to which Richard answered, "Cousin, they are not fit to speak to me." "But have the goodness to hear them," replied Lancaster; upon which Richard uttered an oath, and turning to York, "Thou villain, what wouldst thou say to me? and thou, traitor of Rutland, thou art neither good nor worthy enough to speak to me, nor to bear the name of duke, earl, or knight; thou, and the villain thy father have both of you foully betrayed me; in a cursed hour were ye born: by your false counsel was my uncle of Gloucester put to death." The Earl of Rutland replied to the king that, in what he said he lied; and threw down his bonnet at his feet on which the king said, "I am king, and thy lord; and will still continue king; and will be a greater lord than I ever was, in spite of all my enemies." Upon this Lancaster imposed silence on Rutland. Richard, turning then with a fierce countenance to Lancaster, asked why he was in confinement, and why under a guard of armed men. "Am I your servant or your king? What mean you to do with me?" Lancaster replied, "You are my king and lord, but the council of the realm have ordered that you should be kept in confinement till full decision (jugement) in parliament." The king again swore; and desired he might see his wife. "Excuse me," replied the duke, "it is forbidden by the council." Then the king in great wrath walked about the room; and at length broke out into passionate exclamations, and appeals to heaven; called them "false traitors," and offered to fight any four of them; boasted of his father and grandfather, his reign of twenty-two years; and ended by throwing down his bonnet. Lancaster then fell on his knees, and besought him to be quiet till the meeting of parliament, and then every one would bring forward his reason.-See Notes by the Rev. JOHN WEBB, to his Translation of the French Metrical History, &c.; Archæologia, vol. xx.

(2) SCENE I.-With all swift speed you must away to France.] At this period, Isabel in reality was a mere child. Upon the deposition of Richard, the French made a formal demand for the restitution of the Queen and part of her dowry, which by the contract of marriage was to be returned in the event of her becoming a widow before she had completed her twelfth year. The negotiations were delayed from the end of November, 1399, to May 27th, 1401, when the treaty for her return was signed at Leulinghen. The account of her return to France is thus related in the Metrical History. "On Tuesday the twenty-fifth day of July, about (the hour of) prime, the queen of the English passed from Dover to Calais, in the year one thousand four hundred and one. I understand she was most grandly attended, for she had in her company some of the greatest ladies of England. When they had landed, Huguevillo, who had come over with her,

"On the following Sunday, being the last day of July, the queen set out from Calais without farther delay, together with the English, who could find no right reason for detaining her longer, so often were they reminded by the French. But they brought her straight to Lolinghehen, whither those who had heard the news of it went to meet her; these were the upright Count of Saint Pol, as every one calls him, and with him the ambassadors of France, who had used great diligence that they might behold her again.

it.

"The queen, indeed, alighted below Lolinghehen at a tent, that the English had handsomely pitched for her in the valley. She was met by the ladies of France, who most heartily desired to see her. Soon after, they set out, it seems, together, and took the queen to the chapel of Lolinghehen; what it is, every one knows who has seen And when she had alighted, they made her enter, attended by few persons, except the ambassadors of France and England, who had taken great pains to do this. When they were assembled in the chapel, a knight, who is highly esteemed of the English, Sir Thomas Percy, took up his discourse, saying thus, King Henry, King of England, my sovereign lord on earth, desiring the fulfilment of his promise, hath without reserve and of right pure will, caused us to bring hither my lady, the Queen of England, to render and restore her to her father, loosed, quit, and free of all bonds of marriage, and of every other service, debt, or obligation; and declareth, moreover, that he would most solemnly pledge himself as he took it (or so far as he understood it), that she was as pure and entire as on the day when she was brought in her litter to King Richard. And if there should be any where a king, duke, or earl, christian, or otherwise, great or little, who would deny this, he would, without farther say or any long consultation, find a man of equal rank in England, to maintain this quarrel, and expose his person before any competent judge, in support of all this.' And when he had most sagely declared his pleasure, the Count of St. Pol told him that Jesus Christ should be praised therefore, and that they firmly believed it, without any scruple. Then Sir Thomas Percy, with many tears, took the young queen by the arms, and delivered her with good grace to the messengers there present, and received certain letters of acquittance, which had been promised by the French. And know, that before the two parties separated, they wept most piteously; but when they came to quit the chapel, the queen, whose heart is enlightened by goodness, brought all the English ladies, who made sore lamentations, to the French tents, where they purposed to dine together. So it seems, they did. And after dinner the queen caused a great abundance of very fair jewels to be brought out, and presented them to the great ladies and lords of England, who wept mightily for sorrow; but the queen bade them be of good cheer; and when she was forced to part from them, they renewed their lamentation."

(3) SOENE II.-—

But heaven hath a hand in these events;

To whose high will we bound our calm contents.] On comparing this scene with a parallel passage in Drayton's "Civil Warres," published in 1595, no one can doubt that either Shakespeare had Drayton's version in his mind's eye, or that the latter was indebted to York's magnificent