GLORIANA
The Two Cousins
Valour and Innocence
Have latterly gone hence
To certain death by certain shame attended.
Envy - ah! even to tears! -
The fortune of their years
Which, though so few, yet so divinely ended.
Scarce had they lifted up
Life's full and fiery cup,
Than they had set it down untouched before them.
Before their day arose
They beckoned it to close -
Close in destruction and confusion o'er them.
They did not stay to ask
What prize should crown their task,
Well sure that prize was such as no man strives for;
But passed into eclipse,
Her kiss upon their lips -
Even Belphoebe's, whom they gave their lives for!
Gloriana
Willow Shaw, the little fenced wood where the hop-poles are
stacked like Indian wigwams, had been given to Dan and Una for
their very own kingdom when they were quite small. As they
grew older, they contrived to keep it most particularly private.
Even Phillips, the gardener, told them every time that he came in
to take a hop-pole for his beans, and old Hobden would no more
have thought of setting his rabbit-wires there without leave,
given fresh each spring, than he would have torn down the calico
and marking ink notice on the big willow which said: 'Grown-
ups not allowed in the Kingdom unless brought.'
Now you can understand their indignation when, one blowy
July afternoon, as they were going up for a potato-roast, they saw
somebody moving among the trees. They hurled themselves
over the gate, dropping half the potatoes, and while they were
picking them up Puck came out of a wigwam.
:Oh, it's you, is it?' said Una. 'We thought it was people.'
'I saw you were angry - from your legs,' he answered with a grin.
'Well, it's our own Kingdom - not counting you, of course.'
'That's rather why I came. A lady here wants to see you.'
'What about?' said Dan cautiously.
'Oh, just Kingdoms and things. She knows about Kingdoms.'
There was a lady near the fence dressed in a long dark cloak that
hid everything except her high red-heeled shoes. Her face was
half covered by a black silk fringed mask, without goggles. And
yet she did not look in the least as if she motored.
Puck led them up to her and bowed solemnly. Una made the
best dancing-lesson curtsy she could remember. The lady
answered with a long, deep, slow, billowy one.
'Since it seems that you are a Queen of this Kingdom,'she said,
'I can do no less than acknowledge your sovereignty.' She turned
sharply on staring Dan. 'What's in your head, lad? Manners?'
'I was thinking how wonderfully you did that curtsy,' he answered.
She laughed a rather shrill laugh. 'You're a courtier already. Do
you know anything of dances, wench - or Queen, must I say?'
'I've had some lessons, but I can't really dance a bit,' said Una.
'You should learn, then.' The lady moved forward as though
she would teach her at once. 'It gives a woman alone among men
or her enemies time to think how she shall win or - lose. A
woman can only work in man's play-time. Heigho!'She sat down
on the bank.
Old Middenboro, the lawn-mower pony, stumped across the
paddock and hung his sorrowful head over the fence.
'A pleasant Kingdom,' said the lady, looking round. 'Well
enclosed. And how does your Majesty govern it? Who is your Minister?'
Una did not quite understand. 'We don't play that,' she said.
'Play?' The lady threw up her hands and laughed.
'We have it for our own, together,' Dan explained.
'And d'you never quarrel, young Burleigh?'
'Sometimes, but then we don't tell.'
The lady nodded. 'I've no brats of my own, but I understand
keeping a secret between Queens and their Ministers. Ay de mi!
But with no disrespect to present majesty, methinks your realm'
small, and therefore likely to be coveted by man and beast. For Is
example' - she pointed to Middenboro -'yonder old horse, with
the face of a Spanish friar - does he never break in?'
'He can't. Old Hobden stops all our gaps for us,' said Una, 'and
we let Hobden catch rabbits in the Shaw.'
The lady laughed like a man. 'I see! Hobden catches conies -
rabbits - for himself, and guards your defences for you. Does he
make a profit out of his coney-catching?'
'We never ask,' said Una. 'Hobden's a particular friend of
ours.'
'Hoity-toity!' the lady began angrily. Then she laughed. 'But I
forget. It is your Kingdom. I knew a maid once that had a larger
one than this to defend, and so long as her men kept the fences
stopped, she asked 'em no questions either.'
'Was she trying to grow flowers?'said Una.
'No, trees - perdurable trees. Her flowers all withered.' The
lady leaned her head on her hand.
'They do if you don't look after them. We've got a few. Would
you like to see? I'll fetch you some.' Una ran off to the rank grass
in the shade behind the wigwam, and came back with a handful of
red flowers. 'Aren't they pretty?' she said. 'They're Virginia stock.'
'Virginia?' said the lady, and lifted them to the fringe of
her mask.
'Yes. They come from Virginia. Did your maid ever plant any?'
'Not herself - but her men adventured all over the earth to
pluck or to plant flowers for her crown. They judged her worthy
of them.'
'And was she?' said Dan cheerfully.
'Quien sabe? [who knows?] But at least, while her men toiled
abroad she toiled in England, that they might find a safe home to
come back to.'
'And what was she called?'
'Gloriana - Belphoebe - Elizabeth of England.' Her voice
changed at each word.
'You mean Queen Bess?'
The lady bowed her head a little towards Dan. 'You name her
lightly enough, young Burleigh. What might you know of her?'
said she.
, Well, I - I've seen the little green shoes she left at Brickwall
House - down the road, you know. They're in a glass case -
awfully tiny things.'
'Oh, Burleigh, Burleigh!' she laughed. 'You are a courtier
too soon.'
'But they are,' Dan insisted. 'As little as dolls' shoes. Did you
really know her well?'
'Well. She was a - woman. I've been at her Court all my life.
Yes, I remember when she danced after the banquet at Brickwall.
They say she danced Philip of Spain out of a brand-new kingdom
that day. Worth the price of a pair of old shoes - hey?'
She thrust out one foot, and stooped forward to look at its
broad flashing buckle.
'You've heard of Philip of Spain - long-suffering Philip,' she
said, her eyes still on the shining stones. 'Faith, what some men
will endure at some women's hands passes belief! If I had been a
man, and a woman had played with me as Elizabeth played with
Philip, I would have -' She nipped off one of the Virginia stocks
and held it up between finger and thumb. 'But for all that' - she
began to strip the leaves one by one - 'they say - and I am
persuaded - that Philip loved her.' She tossed her head sideways.
'I don't quite understand,' said Una.
'The high heavens forbid that you should, wench!' She swept
the flowers from her lap and stood up in the rush of shadows that
the wind chased through the wood.
'I should like to know about the shoes,' said Dan.
'So ye shall, Burleigh. So ye shall, if ye watch me. 'Twill be as
good as a play.'
'We've never been to a play,' said Una.
The lady looked at her and laughed. 'I'll make one for you.
Watch! You are to imagine that she - Gloriana, Belphoebe, Elizabeth - has
gone on a progress to Rye to comfort her sad heart
(maids are often melancholic), and while she halts at Brickwall
House, the village - what was its name?' She pushed Puck with
her foot.
'Norgem,' he croaked, and squatted by the wigwam.
'Norgem village loyally entertains her with a masque or play,
and a Latin oration spoken by the parson, for whose false quantities,
if I'd made 'em in my girlhood, I should have been
whipped.'
'You whipped?' said Dan.
'Soundly, sirrah, soundly! She stomachs the affront to her
scholarship, makes her grateful, gracious thanks from the teeth
outwards, thus'- (the lady yawned) -'Oh, a Queen may love her
subjects in her heart, and yet be dog-wearied of 'em 'in body and
mind - and so sits down'- her skirts foamed about her as she sat -
'to a banquet beneath Brickwall Oak. Here for her sins she is
waited upon by - What were the young cockerels' names that
served Gloriana at table?'
'Frewens, Courthopes, Fullers, Husseys,' Puck began.
She held up her long jewelled hand. 'Spare the rest! They were
the best blood of Sussex, and by so much the more clumsy in
handling the dishes and plates. Wherefore' - she looked funnily
over her shoulder - 'you are to think of Gloriana in a green and
gold-laced habit, dreadfully expecting that the jostling youths
behind her would, of pure jealousy or devotion, spatter it with
sauces and wines. The gown was Philip's gift, too! At this happy
juncture a Queen's messenger, mounted and mired, spurs up the
Rye road and delivers her a letter' - she giggled -'a letter from a
good, simple, frantic Spanish gentleman called - Don Philip.'
'That wasn't Philip, King of Spain?'Dan asked.
'Truly, it was. 'Twixt you and me and the bedpost, young
Burleigh, these kings and queens are very like men and women,
and I've heard they write each other fond, foolish letters that none
of their ministers should open.'
'Did her ministers ever open Queen Elizabeth's letters?' said Una.
'Faith, yes! But she'd have done as much for theirs, any day.
You are to think of Gloriana, then (they say she had a pretty
hand), excusing herself thus to the company - for the Queen's
time is never her own - and, while the music strikes up, reading
Philip's letter, as I do.' She drew a real letter from her pocket, and
held it out almost at arm's length, like the old post-mistress in the
village when she reads telegrams.
'Hm! Hm! Hm! Philip writes as ever most lovingly. He says his
Gloriana is cold, for which reason he burns for her through a fair
written page.' She turned it with a snap. 'What's here? Philip
complains that certain of her gentlemen have fought against his
generals in the Low Countries. He prays her to hang 'em when
they re-enter her realms. (Hm, that's as may be.) Here's a list of
burnt shipping slipped between two vows of burning adoration.
Oh, poor Philip! His admirals at sea - no less than three of 'em -
have been boarded, sacked, and scuttled on their lawful voyages
by certain English mariners (gentlemen, he will not call them),
who are now at large and working more piracies in his American
ocean, which the Pope gave him. (He and the Pope should guard
it, then!) Philip hears, but his devout ears will not credit it, that
Gloriana in some fashion countenances these villains' misdeeds,
shares in their booty, and - oh, shame! - has even lent them ships
royal for their sinful thefts. Therefore he requires (which is a
word Gloriana loves not), requires that she shall hang 'em when
they return to England, and afterwards shall account to him for all
the goods and gold they have plundered. A most loving request!
If Gloriana will not be Philip's bride, she shall be his broker and
his butcher! Should she still be stiff-necked, he writes - see where
the pen digged the innocent paper! - that he hath both the means
and the intention to be revenged on her. Aha! Now we come to
the Spaniard in his shirt!' (She waved the letter merrily.) 'Listen
here! Philip will prepare for Gloriana a destruction from the West
- a destruction from the West - far exceeding that which Pedro de
Avila wrought upon the Huguenots. And he rests and remains,
kissing her feet and her hands, her slave, her enemy, or her
conqueror, as he shall find that she uses him.'
She thrust back the letter under her cloak, and went on acting,
but in a softer voice. 'All this while - hark to it - the wind blows
through Brickwall Oak, the music plays, and, with the
company's eyes upon her, the Queen of England must think what
this means. She cannot remember the name of Pedro de Avila,
nor what he did to the Huguenots, nor when, nor where. She can
only see darkly some dark motion moving in Philip's dark mind,
for he hath never written before in this fashion. She must smile
above the letter as though it were good news from her ministers -
the smile that tires the mouth and the poor heart. What shall she
do?' Again her voice changed.
'You are to fancy that the music of a sudden wavers away.
Chris Hatton, Captain of her bodyguard, quits the table all red
and ruffled, and Gloriana's virgin ear catches the clash of swords
at work behind a wall. The mothers of Sussex look round to
count their chicks - I mean those young gamecocks that waited on
her. Two dainty youths have stepped aside into Brickwall garden
with rapier and dagger on a private point of honour. They are
haled out through the gate, disarmed and glaring - the lively
image of a brace of young Cupids transformed into pale, panting
Cains. Ahem! Gloriana beckons awfully - thus! They come up for
judgement. Their lives and estates lie at her mercy whom they
have doubly offended, both as Queen and woman. But la! what
will not foolish young men do for a beautiful maid?'
'Why? What did she do? What had they done?' said Una.
'Hsh! You mar the play! Gloriana had guessed the cause of the
trouble. They were handsome lads. So she frowns a while and
tells 'em not to be bigger fools than their mothers had made 'em,
and warns 'em, if they do not kiss and be friends on the instant,
she'll have Chris Hatton horse and birch 'em in the style of the
new school at Harrow. (Chris looks sour at that.) Lastly, because
she needed time to think on Philip's letter burning in her pocket,
she signifies her pleasure to dance with 'em and teach 'em better
manners. Whereat the revived company call down Heaven's blessing
on her gracious head; Chris and the others prepare Brickwall
House for a dance; and she walks in the clipped garden between
those two lovely young sinners who are both ready to sink for
shame. They confess their fault. It appears that midway in the
banquet the elder - they were cousins - conceived that the Queen
looked upon him with special favour. The younger, taking the
look to himself, after some words gives the elder the lie. Hence, as
she guessed, the duel.'
'And which had she really looked at?' Dan asked.
'Neither - except to wish them farther off. She was afraid all the
while they'd spill dishes on her gown. She tells 'em this, poor
chicks - and it completes their abasement. When they had grilled
long enough, she says: "And so you would have fleshed your
maiden swords for me - for me?" Faith, they would have been at
it again if she'd egged 'em on! but their swords - oh, prettily they
said it! - had been drawn for her once or twice already.
'"And where?" says she. "On your hobby-horses before you
were breeched?"
'"On my own ship," says the elder. "My cousin was vice-
admiral of our venture in his pinnace. We would not have you
think of us as brawling children."
'"No, no," says the younger, and flames like a very Tudor
rose. "At least the Spaniards know us better."
'"Admiral Boy - Vice-Admiral Babe," says Gloriana, "I cry
your pardon. The heat of these present times ripens childhood to
age more quickly than I can follow. But we are at peace with
Spain. Where did you break your Queen's peace?"
'"On the sea called the Spanish Main, though 'tis no more
Spanish than my doublet," says the elder. Guess how that
warmed Gloriana's already melting heart! She would never suffer
any sea to be called Spanish in her private hearing.
'"And why was I not told? What booty got you, and where
have you hid it? Disclose," says she. "You stand in some danger
of the gallows for pirates."
'"The axe, most gracious lady," says the elder, "for we are
gentle born." He spoke truth, but no woman can brook contradiction.
"Hoity-toity!" says she, and, but that she remembered that she
was Queen, she'd have cuffed the pair of 'em. "It shall be
gallows, hurdle, and dung-cart if I choose."
'"Had our Queen known of our going beforehand, Philip
might have held her to blame for some small things we did on the
seas," the younger lisps.
'"As for treasure," says the elder, "we brought back but our
bare lives. We were wrecked on the Gascons' Graveyard, where
our sole company for three months was the bleached bones of De
Avila's men."
'Gloriana's mind jumped back to Philip's last letter.
'"De Avila that destroyed the Huguenots? What d'you know
of him?" she says. The music called from the house here, and they
three turned back between the yews.
'"Simply that De Avila broke in upon a plantation of Frenchmen
on that coast, and very Spaniardly hung them all for heretics -
eight hundred or so. The next year Dominique de Gorgues, a
Gascon, broke in upon De Avila's men, and very justly hung 'em
all for murderers - five hundred or so. No Christians inhabit there
now, says the elder lad, "though 'tis a goodly land north of
Florida. "
'"How far is it from England?" asks prudent Gloriana.
'"With a fair wind, six weeks. They say that Philip will plant it
again soon." This was the younger, and he looked at her out of
the corner of his innocent eye.
'Chris Hatton, fuming, meets and leads her into Brickwall
Hall, where she dances - thus. A woman can think while she
dances - can think. I'll show you. Watch!'
She took off her cloak slowly, and stood forth in dove-coloured
satin, worked over with pearls that trembled like running water
in the running shadows of the trees. Still talking - more to herself
than to the children - she swam into a majestical dance of the
stateliest balancings, the naughtiest wheelings and turnings aside,
the most dignified sinkings, the gravest risings, all joined
together by the elaboratest interlacing steps and circles.
They leaned forward breathlessly to watch the splendid acting.
'Would a Spaniard,' she began, looking on the ground, 'speak
of his revenge till his revenge were ripe? No. Yet a man who
loved a woman might threaten her 'in the hope that his threats
would make her love him. Such things have been.' She moved
slowly across a bar of sunlight. 'A destruction from the West may
signify that Philip means to descend on Ireland. But then my Irish
spies would have had some warning. The Irish keep no secrets.
No - it is not Ireland. Now why - why - why' - the red shoes
clicked and paused -'does Philip name Pedro Melendez de Avila,
a general in his Americas, unless' - she turned more quickly -
unless he intends to work his destruction from the Americas? Did
he say De Avila only to put her off her guard, or for this once has
his black pen betrayed his black heart? We' - she raised herself to
her full height - 'England must forestall Master Philip. But not
openly,'- she sank again -'we cannot fight Spain openly -not yet
- not yet.' She stepped three paces as though she were pegging
down some snare with her twinkling shoe-buckles. 'The Queen's
mad gentlemen may fight Philip's poor admirals where they find
'em, but England, Gloriana, Harry's daughter, must keep the
peace. Perhaps, after all, Philip loves her - as many men and boys
do. That may help England. Oh, what shall help England?'
She raised her head - the masked head that seemed to have
nothing to do with the busy feet - and stared straight at the children.
'I think this is rather creepy,' said Una with a shiver. 'I wish
she'd stop.'
The lady held out her jewelled hand as though she were taking
some one else's hand in the Grand Chain.
'Can a ship go down into the Gascons' Graveyard and wait
there?' she asked into the air, and passed on rustling.
'She's pretending to ask one of the cousins, isn't she?' said Dan,
and Puck nodded.
Back she came in the silent, swaying, ghostly dance. They saw
she was smiling beneath the mask, and they could hear her
breathing hard.
'I cannot lend you any of my ships for the venture; Philip would
hear of it,' she whispered over her shoulder; 'but as much guns
and powder as you ask, if you do not ask too -'Her voice shot up
and she stamped her foot thrice. 'Louder! Louder, the music in the
gallery! Oh, me, but I have burst out of my shoe!'
She gathered her skirts in each hand, and began a curtsy. 'You
will go at your own charges,' she whispered straight before her.
'Oh, enviable and adorable age of youth!' Her eyes shone through
the mask-holes. 'But I warn you you'll repent it. Put not your
trust in princes - or Queens. Philip's ships'll blow you out of
water. You'll not be frightened? Well, we'll talk on it again, when
I return from Rye, dear lads.'
The wonderful curtsy ended. She stood up. Nothing stirred on
her except the rush of the shadows.
'And so it was finished,' she said to the children. 'Why d'you
not applaud?'
'What was finished?' said Una.
'The dance,' the lady replied offendedly. 'And a pair of
green shoes.'
'I don't understand a bit,' said Una.
'Eh? What did you make of it, young Burleigh?'
'I'm not quite sure,' Dan began, 'but -'
'You never can be - with a woman. But -?'
'But I thought Gloriana meant the cousins to go back to the
Gascons' Graveyard, wherever that was.'
''Twas Virginia after-wards. Her plantation of Virginia.'
'Virginia afterwards, and stop Philip from taking it. Didn't she
say she'd lend 'em guns?'
'Right so. But not ships - then.'
'And I thought you meant they must have told her they'd do it
off their own bat, without getting her into a row with Philip. Was
I right?'
'Near enough for a Minister of the Queen. But remember she
gave the lads full time to change their minds. She was three long
days at Rye Royal - knighting of fat Mayors. When she came back
to Brickwall, they met her a mile down the road, and she could
feel their eyes burn through her riding-mask. Chris Hatton, poor
fool, was vexed at it.
'"YOU would not birch them when I gave you the chance,"
says she to Chris. "Now you must get me half an hour's private
speech with 'em in Brickwall garden. Eve tempted Adam in a
garden. Quick, man, or I may repent!"'
'She was a Queen. Why did she not send for them herself?' said Una.
The lady shook her head. 'That was never her way. I've seen
her walk to her own mirror by bye-ends, and the woman that
cannot walk straight there is past praying for. Yet I would have
you pray for her! What else - what else in England's name could
she have done?' She lifted her hand to her throat for a moment.
'Faith,' she cried, 'I'd forgotten the little green shoes! She left 'em
at Brickwall - so she did. And I remember she gave the Norgem
parson - John Withers, was he? - a text for his sermon - "Over
Edom have I cast out my shoe." Neat, if he'd understood!'
'I don't understand,' said Una. 'What about the two cousins?'
'You are as cruel as a woman,' the lady answered. 'I was not to
blame. I told you I gave 'em time to change their minds. On my
honour (ay de mi!), she asked no more of 'em at first than to wait a
while off that coast - the Gascons' Graveyard - to hover a little if
their ships chanced to pass that way - they had only one tall ship
and a pinnace - only to watch and bring me word of Philip's
doings. One must watch Philip always. What a murrain right had
he to make any plantation there, a hundred leagues north of his
Spanish Main, and only six weeks from England? By my dread
father's soul, I tell you he had none - none!' She stamped her red
foot again, and the two children shrunk back for a second.
'Nay, nay. You must not turn from me too! She laid it all fairly
before the lads in Brickwall garden between the yews. I told 'em
that if Philip sent a fleet (and to make a plantation he could not
well send less), their poor little cock-boats could not sink it. They
answered that, with submission, the fight would be their own
concern. She showed 'em again that there could be only one end
to it - quick death on the sea, or slow death in Philip's prisons.
They asked no more than to embrace death for my sake. Many
men have prayed to me for life. I've refused 'em, and slept none
the worse after; but when my men, my tall, fantastical young
men, beseech me on their knees for leave to die for me, it shakes
me - ah, it shakes me to the marrow of my old bones.'
Her chest sounded like a board as she hit it.
'She showed 'em all. I told 'em that this was no time for open
war with Spain. If by miracle inconceivable they prevailed against
Philip's fleet, Philip would hold me accountable. For England's
sake, to save war, I should e'en be forced (I told 'em so) to give
him up their young lives. If they failed, and again by some miracle
escaped Philip's hand, and crept back to England with their bare
lives, they must lie - oh, I told 'em all - under my sovereign
displeasure. She could not know them, see them, nor hear their
names, nor stretch out a finger to save them from the gallows, if
Philip chose to ask it.
'"Be it the gallows, then," says the elder. (I could have wept,
but that my face was made for the day.)
'"Either way - any way - this venture is death, which I know
you fear not. But it is death with assured dishonour," I cried.
'"Yet our Queen will know in her heart what we have done,"
says the younger.
'"Sweetheart," I said. "A queen has no heart."
'"But she is a woman, and a woman would not forget," says
the elder. "We will go!" They knelt at my feet.
'"Nay, dear lads - but here!" I said, and I opened my arms to
them and I kissed them.
'"Be ruled by me," I said. "We'll hire some ill-featured old
tarry-breeks of an admiral to watch the Graveyard, and you shall
come to Court."
'"Hire whom you please," says the elder; "we are ruled by
you, body and soul"; and the younger, who shook most when I
kissed 'em, says between his white lips, "I think you have power
to make a god of a man."
'"Come to Court and be sure of't," I said.
'They shook their heads and I knew - I knew, that go they
would. If I had not kissed them - perhaps I might have prevailed.'
'Then why did you do it?' said Una. 'I don't think you knew
really what you wanted done.'
'May it please your Majesty' - the lady bowed her head low -
'this Gloriana whom I have represented for your pleasure was a
woman and a Queen. Remember her when you come to your Kingdom.'
'But- did the cousins go to the Gascons' Graveyard?' said Dan,
as Una frowned.
'They went,' said the lady.
'Did they ever come back?' Una began; but - 'Did they stop
King Philip's fleet?' Dan interrupted.
The lady turned to him eagerly.
'D'you think they did right to go?' she asked.
'I don't see what else they could have done,' Dan replied, after
thinking it over.
'D'you think she did right to send 'em?' The lady's voice rose a
little.
'Well,' said Dan, 'I don't see what else she could have done,
either - do you? How did they stop King Philip from getting Virginia?'
'There's the sad part of it. They sailed out that autumn from
Rye Royal, and there never came back so much as a single
rope-yarn to show what had befallen them. The winds blew, and
they were not. Does that make you alter your mind, young Burleigh?'
'I expect they were drowned, then. Anyhow, Philip didn't
score, did he?'
'Gloriana wiped out her score with Philip later. But if Philip
had won, would you have blamed Gloriana for wasting those
lads' lives?'
'Of course not. She was bound to try to stop him.'
The lady coughed. 'You have the root of the matter in you.
Were I Queen, I'd make you Minister.'
'We don't play that game,' said Una, who felt that she disliked
the lady as much as she disliked the noise the high wind made
tearing through Willow Shaw.
'Play!' said the lady with a laugh, and threw up her hands
affectedly. The sunshine caught the jewels on her many rings and
made them flash till Una's eyes dazzled, and she had to rub them.
Then she saw Dan on his knees picking up the potatoes they had
spilled at the gate.
'There wasn't anybody in the Shaw, after all,' he said. 'Didn't
you think you saw someone?'
'I'm most awfully glad there isn't,' said Una. Then they went
on with the potato-roast.
The Looking-Glass
Queen Bess Was Harry's daughter!
The Queen was in her chamber, and she was middling old,
Her petticoat was satin and her stomacher was gold.
Backwards and forwards and sideways did she pass,
Making up her mind to face the cruel looking-glass.
The cruel looking-glass that will never show a lass
As comely or as kindly or as young as once she was!
The Queen was in her chamber, a-combing of her hair,
There came Queen Mary's spirit and it stood behind her chair,
Singing, 'Backwards and forwards and sideways you may pass,
But I will stand behind you till you face the looking-glass.
The cruel looking-glass that will never show a lass
As lovely or unlucky or as lonely as I was!'
The Queen was in her chamber, a-weeping very sore,
There came Lord Leicester's spirit and it scratched upon the door,
Singing, 'Backwards and forwards and sideways may you pass,
But I will walk beside you till you face the looking-glass.
The cruel looking-glass that will never show a lass
As hard and unforgiving or as wicked as you was!'
The Queen was in her chamber; her sins were on her head;
She looked the spirits up and down and statelily she said:
'Backwards and forwards and sideways though I've been,
Yet I am Harry's daughter and I am England's Queen!'
And she faced the looking-glass (and whatever else there was),
And she saw her day was over and she saw her beauty pass
In the cruel looking-glass that can always hurt a lass
More hard than any ghost there is or any man there was!
