CHAPTER XLVII.

THE PLAYER AT COURT.

And now a new epoch seems to have arrived, and England (for the time being) may indeed be called "merrie England." The good old days of good Queen Bess are now in full force. The nation seems like a burly giant, who, lately weighed down by some heavy disease, and which it required all the strength of his constitution to surmount, suddenly finds himself again in health and strength.

"Now he breathes again, and can give audience to any tongue,
Speak il of what it may."

The enjoyment of the sometime invalid is tenfold from the sudden rebound. Earth and sea, air and sky, look doubly beautiful, and each hour is one of enjoyment. The whole nation revels in the excitement and the joyous feelings consequent upon its deliverance from a fearful yoke. The anticipation of dishonour, torture, and slavery, are no more. The overweening Spaniard, "that Armado hight," has been smitten with deadly vengeance, and all care is thrown to the winds. The Queen, the courtiers, the soldiers, sailors, citizens, nay, all the realm are dancing a galliard through the country. And of all those dancers none danced more vigorously, or cut higher capers, than the royal Tudor herself and her dancing chancellor, Sir Christopher Hatton.

"Full oft within the spacious walls,
When he had fifty winters o'er him,
My grave lord-keeper led the brawls,
And seals and maces danced before him.
His bushy beard, and shoe-strings green,
His high-crowned hat and satin doublet,
Moved the stout heart of England's Queen,
Though Pope and Spaniard could not trouble it."

Leicester, Essex, Raleigh, and Hatton, the especial gallants of the Court, "glittering in golden coats like images," are amongst those revellers.

In London and its environs, bear-baitings, bull-baitings, masques, morris dancers, theatrical exhibitions, and all sorts of diversions filled up the hours.

Great crowds of noblemen and gentlemen (who had met the Queen on her landing at Westminster after the dispersion of the Armada) attended her to St. James's Palace, and, day after day, entertained her, "all furnished, all in arms," with tilts and tourneys.