"Go to," said Lord Burleigh, "those were princely revels. Dost remember in the performance how rare it was to see the seven deadly sins do their parts?"
"Ah, and how featly the dancers tripped it?" struck in Sir Christopher Hatton.
"I do now remember me," said Sir Thomas, "of those deadly sins. Let me see, there was Pride, Wrath, Envy, Luxury, Sloth, and Gluttony. By the same token they came mounted on their hobbys, and assailed the castle."
"Aye," said Hatton, "and then Humanum Genus (who defended it) was sore bested; truly it was excellent, and then came Mors, or Dreary Death, and took Humanum Genus and carried him off."
"Aye, but then the fool, Sir Thomas!" said Burleigh, "rememberest thou the scurvy knave of a fool? By my fay, ha was the life o' the night. Truly, Sir Thomas, the fool was a most worthy fool; not altogether an ass,—eh?"
"Ahem!" said Sir Thomas, who liked not the word ass, "methinks Her Majesty doth glance towards this part, nay, now she peradventure wisheth a word with you."
"Go to," said Burleigh, "I will attend. Oh, that fool! methinks I had as lief go hang as go see a play without a fool in't. Oh! that ass, Sir Thomas; and Sir Thomas, and Lord Burleigh, and Hatton sidled up towards the Queen, and joined in the conversation carried on there upon theatrical subjects.
"Your Majesty will understand," said Lord Revel (who was something of a fop), "that this Shakespeare hath a new style, which is very commendably excellent. A most perfect style, altogether his own. Hast seen anything yet of his producing, my Lord Burleigh?"
My Lord Burleigh shook his head, an old custom with him. "I have not," he replied, "but I hear great things of his poetry."
"Go to," said the Queen, in answer to some remark of Sir Philip Sydney's. "Those matters, Sir Philip, were good, but here be better. Didst thou witness the former play of this man's writing, Sir Thomas Lucy?" she enquired of the Knight of Charlecote.