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the old walls resound with their joyous voices. Men 

 speak much concerning the valorous conduct of Queen 

 Margaret, and all which she has done and suffered in 

 order to replace her hushand on the throne. But they 

 speak more of the gentle Elizabeth ; how she had sat 

 down in meekness and in patience within the walls of 

 that dismal place, where murderers and traitors had har- 

 boured in other times, waiting quietly till it pleased the 

 Most High to send her better days, sojourning, indeed, 

 in trouble, heaviness, and sorrow, yet sustaining it as 

 became a Christian woman, having much to fear, yet 

 hoping against hope.* 



The queen is playing now with her ladies at a courtly 

 game called the marteaux, while others are amusing 

 themselves as best befit them, according to the fashion of 

 the times. King Edward is dancing with the Lady 

 Elizabeth, his eldest daughter, and all is mirth and 

 revelry, and joyousness, and well may those rejoice, who 

 but a few days before knew not where to find a hiding- 

 place. Who is that stately gentleman, whose dress and 

 accent bespeak him from foreign parts, on whom all 

 eyes are turned, and even the king salutes with more 

 than kingly courtesy ? The Lord of Grauthuse, Louis 

 of Bruges. At once a nobleman, a merchant, and a 

 man of letters, acting as deputy in the Low Countries 

 for his master, Charles the Bold. He received and 

 welcomed his royal guest, when in the preceding year the 

 * Fleetwood's Chronicle. 



