"My lords," she said, "having passed for a time our edict of silence

upon our good Leicester, we will call you to counsel on a gamesome

matter, more fitted to be now treated of, amidst mirth and music, than

in the gravity of our ordinary deliberations. Which of you, my lords,"

said she, smiling, "know aught of a petition from Orson Pinnit,

the keeper, as he qualifies himself, of our royal bears? Who stands

godfather to his request?"

"Marry, with Your Grace's good permission, that do I," said the Earl of

Sussex. "Orson Pinnit was a stout soldier before he was so mangled by

the skenes of the Irish clan MacDonough; and I trust your Grace will

be, as you always have been, good mistress to your good and trusty

servants."

"Surely," said the Queen, "it is our purpose to be so, and in especial

to our poor soldiers and sailors, who hazard their lives for little pay.

We would give," she said, with her eyes sparkling, "yonder royal palace

of ours to be an hospital for their use, rather than they should call

their mistress ungrateful. But this is not the question," she said,

her voice, which had been awakened by her patriotic feelings, once more

subsiding into the tone of gay and easy conversation; "for this Orson

Pinnit's request goes something further. He complains that, amidst the

extreme delight with which men haunt the play-houses, and in especial

their eager desire for seeing the exhibitions of one Will Shakespeare

(whom I think, my lords, we have all heard something of), the manly

amusement of bear-baiting is falling into comparative neglect, since men

will rather throng to see these roguish players kill each other in

jest, than to see our royal dogs and bears worry each other in bloody

earnest.--What say you to this, my Lord of Sussex?"

"Why, truly, gracious madam," said Sussex, "you must expect little from

an old soldier like me in favour of battles in sport, when they are

compared with battles in earnest; and yet, by my faith, I wish Will

Shakespeare no harm. He is a stout man at quarter-staff, and single

falchion, though, as I am told, a halting fellow; and he stood, they

say, a tough fight with the rangers of old Sir Thomas Lucy of Charlecot,

when he broke his deer-park and kissed his keeper's daughter."

"I cry you mercy, my Lord of Sussex," said Queen Elizabeth, interrupting

him; "that matter was heard in council, and we will not have this

fellow's offence exaggerated--there was no kissing in the matter, and

the defendant hath put the denial on record. But what say you to his

present practice, my lord, on the stage? for there lies the point, and

not in any ways touching his former errors, in breaking parks, or the

other follies you speak of."




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