ftutn* of Hpistone palace, 139 



Knights and squires are seen going to and fro, con- 

 versing on foreign news, or on the valorous achieve- 

 ments of those with whom they are acquainted. 



The queen thinks well of such proceedings, and she 

 endeavours to promote the kindly intercourse that sub- 

 sists within the walls. But now they are put aside. 

 The king is weary of them. The jest and laugh, the 

 discoursing of the old, and the amusements of the 

 young, suit not with his turn of mind or the sad condi- 

 tion of the country. He has other thoughts than those 

 of gladness and festivity, and growing weary of the 

 hospitable life which he is constrained to lead at Clip- 

 stone palace, he has suddenly withdrawn from thence 

 and gone to London. 



Clipstone looks lonely now. The minstrel's harp is 

 silent, neither knights nor ladies ride forth over the 

 wild moor, and rarely does any one seek for hospitality 

 within the walls. A few men-at-anns guard the place, 

 and you may hear the baying of the watch-dogs at 

 eveningtide ; but this is rather from impatience than ne- 

 cessity, for they miss the riders who used to pat their 

 shaggy heads, and speak to them as they passed. 



Sad rumours are afloat, but the place is so remote 

 that no one knows what to believe. Some say that a 

 civil war has broken out ; others that the country is laid 

 under an interdict, that the church doors are to be 

 closed, and that no one is to be interred in consecrated 

 ground. 



