stances." On the other and (as some physiologists maintain) the better side, the birth of our Poet was distinguished. His mother was the heiress of Robert Arden, of Wilnecote, a branch of one of the most ancient and most illustrious of the Warwickshire aristocracy. The head of the elder branch of this family, at the time when Leicester was at his pitch of pride and glory, looked down upon the Dudleys as "upstarts," and "disdained to wear the Earl's livery, which many of that county of his rank thought in those days no small honour to them." That the family of Shakespeare (himself inclusive) were not indifferent to the distinction of rank is evident from their having thrice a taken out their patent of arms at the College of Heralds, and on the last occasion, particularly, having the arms of Arden impaled with those of Shakespeare. We may be certain that the nobility and gentry of Warwickshire were invited to grace her Majesty's reception at Kenilworth. The corporate officers and burghers of the neighbouring boroughs would be naturally assemw Skottowe's Life of Shakespeare, i., 3.

* Dugdale's account of the Arden family, in his Antiquities of Warwickshire, is given under the head of Cudworth, which, "in the Conqueror's days, was possessed by Turchill de Warwick."

"In this place," quoth he, "I have made choice to speak historically of that most ancient and worthy family, whose sirname was first assumed from their residence in this part of the county, then and yet called Arden, by reason of its woodinesse, the old Britans and Gauls using the word in that seuse, as Master Camden hath observed; not that for Turchill or his descendants lived here, but because this was the chief place which continued longest in the family, even till of late time, and was near to that [Parkhall] where for the greatest part of 300 years they have had their residence."

"Turchill," he adds, " was one of the first here in England that, in imitation of the Normans, assumed a sirname; for it appears that he did, and wrote himself Turchillus de Eardene, in the days of K. Will. Rufus." See also the Genealogical Table of the Ardens, Antiq. Warwick, London, 1730, ii., 924. Also i., 376, where the ancestry of Turchill is traced backward till lost in fable.

y Life of Robert Dudley, Earl of Leicester: London, 1727, p. 107. z Camden's An. of Eliz., anno 1583.

a Once in 1569, again in 1596, and lastly in 1599. Malone's Life, &c.

b

bled there to pay homage to the Queen, and swell the state of her magnificent favourite. It is therefore probable that "Master Shakespeare," the ex-high bailiff of Stratford-upon-Avon, and his lady, a daughter of the Ardens, had the honour of partaking in at least the out-of-door entertainments of this gorgeous festival. The mother of such a child as William-a child doubtless of "a good sprag memory," and "a better scholar than he was thought to be”—would hardly have left him behind, when the grandest spectacle he was (at that time) ever likely to witness was about to be exhibited. But surely she-who might well be proud of such a child as, at eleven years of age, we cannot but imagine him to have been-she, whose maternal love would have watched for his safety and his morals-she, whose family dignity would have made her chary of his associates—she surely would have suffered him to be joined with "no foot land-rakers, no long-staff sixpenny strikers; none of those mad, mustachio, purple-hued malt-worms," that usually constituted the worshipful society of poor players; "but with nobility and tranquillity, burgomasters and great-one-eers." It is therefore, I conceive, probable that our youthful Poet was present at the Princely Pleasures-not "under the wing of a poor player"-not in the livery of "the Earl of Leicester's servants," but as a capable and gratified spectator, in the suite perhaps of his high-minded kinsman, the head of the Arden family, and in the company of his father and mother. The passage under consideration has very much the air of a sketch drawn from memory, and imparts additional likelihood to an otherwise plausible conjecture.

Be that as it may, however, this much is certain-that the mystery of Kenilworth, involving the tragic fate of a near and valued kinsman of his mother's, must have formed the subject of frequent and mournful conversation in the family of ShakeWe shall not anticipate the period when this interest

speare.

b We know, from Laneham, that Captain Cox and the men of Coventry, with their players, were present on the occasion. See Nichols's Progresses as before..

ing story, and its relation to the events we are considering, will be intelligible and clear. When the proper time for telling it arrives, it will become evident that if "the words ‘I remember,' in answer to Oberon's inquiry, spoke for one more personage than Puck," so the words "I saw" spoke for one more at least than Oberon. The secret proved fatal to the observer; but its fatality supplies the source from which (if not otherwise) our Poet might have derived his information, and a sufficing reason for his allusion to it.

The time and place of this "rare vision" being fixed, we shall be at no loss to discover the circumstances which occasioned the metamorphosis of the little western flower; and having reached so far, ordinary patience will bring us to herself in person and in name.

The entertainment at Kenilworth was, as already observed, Leicester's "bold stroke for a wife," his desperate cast for the hand of his royal mistress. A marriage between Elizabeth and the young Duke of Alençon had long been the subject of negociation; and, although her Majesty, at the first proposal, affected to discourage it on the ground of disparity of years,d yet, in 1574, when, "by letters full fraught with love," the Duke craved safe-conduct to come into England and salute the Queen in person, she, "overcome with his importunities," granted his request, promising withal that he "should fail of no kindness which might be expected at the hands of a most loving princess.' "And certainly," says the historian," she now loved and respected him more heartily after she understood for certain that he bare a mortal hatred to the Guises, her sworn enemies."

95

The treaty in this prosperous state went on through 1575; and, in the early part of 1576, "those two marriage-brokers, Mota-Fenelon and Porte," says Camden, "began again to

c Boaden's Essay, p. 12.

a Alençon was at that time in his eighteenth year, Elizabeth in her thirty-eighth.

e Camden, An. Eliz., 1574.

tickle Queen Elizabeth's ears with love-stories about her marriage with Alençon."

Against this dangerous rival it behoved the aspiring Leicester to bestir himself; for there was much reason for the "alarm" which—if Warburton's reading be correct- his "Cupid" is said to have felt. "Then or never," says Mr. Boaden, “ did the magnificent Leicester expect to carry his romantic prize; and surely never were "springes to catch woodcocks" laid with more art and profusion than were the devices employed by this ambitious subject to captivate the woman's heart—if she had of his royal mistress. It is said to have cost him above

one

£60,000. But, elaborate as were the preparations, and auspiciously as they had begun, there came a trouble that for a time ruffled their serenity, and threatened to bring them to an abrupt termination.

medio de fonte leporum,

Surgit amari aliquid, quod in ipsis floribus angat.

What it was precisely we do not know; but undoubtedly something occurred, ere Elizabeth had enjoyed the flattering hospitality provided for her more than eleven days, which gave her such offence, that on the twelfth she refused, on the pretext of a sombre morning, to partake of the entertainments prepared for that day's amusement, and her suite were put in readiness for immediate departure. "Wednesday in the forenoon," says

f Between the old reading and the new, it is difficult to give a preference. They suit equally well with the context, and the circumstances alluded to: "alarmed" would depict Leicester's fears to lose his royal prize; "allarmed," the complete and splendid apparatus he had prepared for winning her. Of the two, the former presents an image so much more classic, lively, and poetical, that, but for the critical canon which prohibits an intelligible word in possession of the text from being disturbed, I should be inclined to adopt it. Not feeling authorised to decide, I have kept both readings in view throughout this disquisition.

the voluble Laneham, speaking of the second Wednesday of Elizabeth's sojourn, "preparacion was in hand for her Majesty to have supped in Wedgenall, a three miles west from the Castl, a goodly park of the Queenz Majestyz. For that cauz a fayr pavilion, and other provision accordingly thither sent and prepayrd; but by means of the weather not so clearly dispozed, the matter was countermaunded again." Her Majesty kept house that day, and would not go forth to enjoy "a reddy devise1 of goddessez and nymphes, which, az well for the ingenious argument az for the well handling of it in rime and endighting, woold undoubtedly haue gained great lyking, and mooved no less delight." "A' this day allso," adds he, "waz thear such earnest talk and appointment of removing, that I gave over my noting, and hearkened after my hors." Whatever the cloud was which so suddenly darkened the clear and sunny weather of Leicester, it did not quickly, nor perhaps entirely, pass away during the remainder of Elizabeth's visit; for, although she stayed at Kenilworth until the Wednesday following, yet Laneham intimates plainly enough that the festivities, if any, were cold and not worth reciting.i

From all this, it is abundantly clear that something did occur to disturb the serenity of the noble proprietor and his royal guest;

g Nichols's Progresses of Eliz., i., 459.

h This "reddy devise was doubtless the "Shewe devised and penned by M. Gascoigne, which being prepared and redy (every actor in his garment) two or three days together, yet never came to execution. The cause whereof," says the author himself, "I cannot attribute to any other thing than to lack of opportunity and seasonable weather."-Ibid. 513.

i Gascoigne also alludes to the broken harmony of the visit. "There was," quoth he, "nothing but weeping and wayling, crying and howling, dole, desperation, mourning and mone . . . The which sudden change I plainly perceived to be, for that they understood aboue that your majestie would shortly (and too suddenly) depart out of this country." And he winds up his tedious address with a request in favour of his master, Deepdesire [Leicester] that her Majesty would "either be a suter for him unto the heavenlie powers, or else but only give her gracious consent that hee may be restored to his prystinate estate."—Ibid.