VOLUME 22.

KENILWORTH.

No scandal about Queen Elizabeth, I hope?

The Cri

IN TWO VOLUMES.

II.

PARKER'S EDITION,

REVISED AND CORRECTED, WITH A GENERAL PREFACE, AN

INTRODUCTION ΤΟ EACH NOVEL, AND

NOTES,

HISTORICAL AND ILLUSTRATIVE, BY

THE AUTHOR.

PUBLISHED BY SAMUEL H. PARKER, BOSTON, FOR DESILVER, THOMAS, AND CO., PHILADELPHIA.

KENILWORTH.

CHAPTER I.

Clown. You have of these pedlars, that have more in 'em than you'd thị ¡ sister. Winter's Tale. Act IV. Scene 3.

In his anxiety to obey the earl's repeated charges of secrecy, as well as from his own unsocial and miserly habits, Anthony Foster was more desirous, by his mode of housekeeping, to escape observation than to resist intrusive curiosity. Thus, instead of a numerous household, to secure his charge, and defend his house, he studied, as much as possible, to elude notice, by diminishing his attendants; so that, unless when there were followers of the earl, or of Varney, in the mansion, one old male domestic and two aged crones, who assisted in keeping the countess's apartments in order, were the only servants of the family. It was one of these old women who opened the door when Wayland knocked, and answered his petition, to be admitted to exhibit his wares to the ladies of the family, with a volley of vituperation, couched in what is there called the jowring dialect. The pedlar found the means of checking this vociferation, by slipping a silver groat into her hand, and intimating the present of some stuff for a coif, if the lady would buy of his

wares.

"God ield thee, for mine is aw in littocks-Slocket with thy pack into gharn, mon-Her walks in gharn,"

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Into the garden she ushered the pedlar accordingly, and pointing to an old ruinous garden-house, said, "Yonder be's her, mon,-yonder be's her-Zhe will buy changes an zhe loikes stuffs."

"She has left me to come off as I may," thought Wayland, as he heard the hag shut the garden-door behind him. "But they shall not beat me, and they dare not murder me, for so little trespass, and by this fair twilight. Hang it, I will on—a brave general never thought of his retreat till he was defeated. I see two females in the old garden-house yonder-but how to address them?-Stay-Will Shakspeare be my friend in need! I will give them a taste of Autolycus.". He then sung, with a good voice, and becoming audacity, the popular play-house ditty,

"Lawn as white as driven snow,
Cyprus black as e'er was crow,
Gloves as sweet as damask roses,
Masks for faces and for noses."

"What hath fortune sent us here for an unwonted sight, Janet?" said the lady.

"One of those merchants of vanity, called pedlars," answered Janet, demurely, "who utters his light wares in lighter measures-I marvel old Dorcas let him pass." "It is a lucky chance, girl," said the countess; lead a heavy life here, and this may while off a weary hour..

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"Ay, my gracious lady," said Janet; "but my father?"

"He is not my father, Janet, nor I hope my master," answered the lady—" I say, call the man hither-I want some things."

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Nay," replied Janet, "your ladyship has but to say so in the next packet, and if England can furnish them they will be sent.-There will come mischief on't-Pray, dearest lady, let me bid the man begone!"

"I will have thee bid him come hither," said the countess;-" or stay, thou terrified fool, I will bid him myself, and spare thee a chiding."

"Ah! well-a-day, dearest lady, if that were the worst," said Janet sadly, while the lady called to the pedlar, "Good fellow, step forward-undo thy pack-if thou hast good wares, chance has sent thee hither for venience and thy profit."

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"What may your ladyship please to lack ?" said Wayland, unstrapping his pack, and displaying its contents with as much dexterity as if he had been bred to the trade. Indeed he had occasionally pursued it in the course of his roving life, and now commended his wares. with all the volubility of a trader, and showed some skill in the main art of placing prices upon them.

"What do I please to lack?" said the lady, "why, considering I have not for six long months bought one yard of fawn or cambric, or one trinket, the most inconsiderable, for my own use, and at my own choice, the better question is, what hast thou got to sell? Lay aside for me that cambric partlet and pair of sleeves-and those roundels of gold fringe, drawn out with cyprus-and that short cloak of cherry-coloured fine cloth, garnished with gold buttons and loops. Is it not of an absolute fancy, Janet?"

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Nay, my lady," replied Janet, "if you consult my poor judgment, it is, methinks, over gawdy for a graceful habit."

"Now, out upon thy judgment, if it be no brighter, wench," said the countess ; "thou shalt wear it thyself for penance sake; and I promise thee the gold buttons being somewhat massive, will comfort thy father, and reconcile him to the cherry-coloured body. See that he snap them not away, Janet, and send them to bear company with the imprisoned angels, which he keeps captive in his strong-box.

"May I pray your ladyship to spare my poor father!" said Janet.

"Nay, but why should any one spare him that is so sparing of his own nature ?" replied the lady.—“ Well, but to our gear-That head garniture for myself and 1* VOL. II.

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