. The New England magazine . else would ruin stare us i the face, andwho so prudent a housewife as thou, goodJudy? Trust me to bring thee thefinest £;rdingale and ruff in all thee well, All the night long my lady leaned backin her own corner of the coach, but sleepsate not upon her clear-shining eyes (myladys eyes did aye put me in mind othat verse of Scripture which treats of clear-shining after rain ) which staredout of her jasmine-flower face at theflaring torches as one who sees spirits, —if the Almighty permits the departed torevisit this earth, which some question;for
. The New England magazine . else would ruin stare us i the face, andwho so prudent a housewife as thou, goodJudy? Trust me to bring thee thefinest £;rdingale and ruff in all thee well, All the night long my lady leaned backin her own corner of the coach, but sleepsate not upon her clear-shining eyes (myladys eyes did aye put me in mind othat verse of Scripture which treats of clear-shining after rain ) which staredout of her jasmine-flower face at theflaring torches as one who sees spirits, —if the Almighty permits the departed torevisit this earth, which some question;for me I confess I like not the church-yard nor the rambling passages of thecastle o dark nights, — and ever and anonshe would burst forth into speech : Ah, my poor princes ! ah, my tender babes!My unblown flowers, new-appearing sweets!If yet your gentle souls fly in the air,And be not fixd in doom perpetual,Hover about me with your airy wings,And hear your mothers lamentation ! MASTER SHAKESPEARES STAR. hll rrT-rr^miTrnr^. It seemed no other than sin to chp away the bright And with such wondrous pathos didmy lady cry out on heaven that ahnost me-thought in verity the young Lady Anne,with all her merry quips, was the grief-be-shrewed mother of the princes foully mur-dered in the tower. And my eyes didwellnigh burst their bounds, and my bloodran cold in my veins when she prated othe dagger she saw before her, her whitehands clinched, and horror frozen in hergaze, until such chills sped one anotherdown my marrow as might befit a hallow-mas eve i the graveyard, and despite my-self I was fain to cry out and beseech herto desist, whereat she did laugh right mer-rily, and seemed excellent well pleased atmy foolish straits. And forthwith shedid burst out in lighter vein, I praythee, Rosalind, sweet my coz, be merry? And thus did she comport, until at War-wick some players bore us company in the coach, and my lady subsided intosilence, with her veil drawn closely abouther face that n
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