449 
with—‘“‘ §’death, my lords, I have been enforced this day to scour up 
my old Latin, that hath lain long in rusting.” Her present task was 
‘easier. Graciously extending her hand to the Countess, in a few words 
equally reassuring, she told her she had well done to bring her wrongs 
to the fountain-head of justice, and that the offender should soon find 
distance was no safety from just retribution for his evil doings. Cecil 
was then directed to issue the necessary powers to restore the Countess 
to her rights, and to punish to the uttermost the offending churl; while 
to Raleigh was delegated their enforcement. The pent-up feelings of 
all burst forth, to the disregard of state decorum, the younger nobles 
tossing up their gay and jewelled caps, with the cries of “‘ Long live the 
Queen’s Majesty’s grace!’ And Elizabeth, smiling at the scene she her- 
self had created, and receiving with renewed kindness the almost inar- 
ticulate expressions of gratitude which her ‘‘ poore Bedeswoman” en- 
deavoured to utter, retired, followed by her attendants. Released from 
all restraint, the whole court crushed up to the Countess, and, in their 
various moods, tenses, and manners, poured out the expression of their 
hearty joy and congratulations. Many a young gallant pressed his 
rising moustache, and many a lovely damsel pressed her cherry lips, on 
the withered, wrinkled hand of the olde Ladye Cattelyn in all the sin- 
cerity of reverential, affectionate sympathy. And when Raleigh, fearing 
the continuance of this excitement, respectfully placing her arm in his, 
intimated their departure, the gay and glittering throng fell back on 
each side, opening a passage, and forming, as it were, a brilliant body- 
guard, with the kind word and the kind wish from every individual 
for her, as they passed through it. At the court of Edward Plantagenet, 
Katherin Fitzgerald had been one star in its galaxy of youth and beauty, 
dividing with the other stars of the constellation homage and adoration. 
But on this eventful day, at the court of Elizabeth Tudor, the old 
Countess of Desmond was the one star of the firmament,—engrossing 
every thought, engaging every hope, in whose success every heart re- 
joiced, identifying itself with hers, and feeling her triumphs as its own. 
We have thus, step by step, accompanied our noble ambassador at 
Paris to the conclusion of his hazy dream, possibly an after-dinner forty 
winks, induced by the rival seductions of Lafitte and Margaux. But 
we must leave him with “ Nature’s soft nurse, sleep, gentle sleep,” and 
return to the cold realities of waking life. 
Sir Walter Raleigh, after his return from Youghal, which we are to 
presume was in 1589, formed part of Queen Elizabeth’s court during 
the remainder ofher reign. In his work, published in 1614, he brings 
our old Countess forward as a remarkable instance of long life... He 
does not specify her age, but states that she was married in the reign 
of Edward IV., and that he knew her in 1589. Edward IV. died 9th 
April, 1483, so that if the Countess had only been married in 1482, at 
the age of eighteen, she would have been 125. And Sir Walter con- 
tinues, she lived many years since; but so little does he expect to be 
believed, that he adds ‘‘ and that this is true all the noblemen and gen- 
BE, I, A. PROC.—VOL. VII. 38 
