colouring has been introduced
into the following from the "Memorials of Archibald Constable," recently
published by his son.--An old deaf relation said on her death-bed to her
attendant, "Ann, if I should be spared, I hope my nephew will get the
doctor to open my head, and see whether anything can be done for my
hearing."

[55] One of Anne Boleyn's principal favourites was Sir Thomas Wyatt, who
was celebrated at that day as a man of humour, though at present we see
nothing in his poems but a few poetical conceits. The titles of them are
suggestive: "The Lover sending sighs to move his suit." "Of his Love who
pricked her finger with a needle." "The Lover praiseth the beauty of his
Lady's hand." He wrote the following upon the Queen's name:--

"What word is that, that changeth not,
Though it be turned and made in twain?
It is mine Anna, God it wot,
The only causer of my pain;
My love that meedeth with disdain;
Yet is it loved, what will you more?
It is my salve and eke my sore."

[56] Christina of Sweden made a similar remark when the Order of the
Garter was sent to Charles Gustavus.

[57] Pace had said the same to Queen Elizabeth, and from such strokes
jesters were called 'honest,' as 'Honest Jo,' &c.

[58] There is little humour in Shadwell's works; he succeeded Dryden as
Poet Laureate, which was perhaps the cause of the above lines.

Rochester said, "If Shadwell had burnt all he wrote, and printed all he
spoke, he would have had more wit and humour than any poet." Probably
his wit would have been like Rochester's. Whether Shadwell were himself
a good poet or not, he made a hit at the poetasters of his day, in which
he showed some genius.

_Poet._ O, very loftily!
The winged vallance of your eyes advance
Shake off your canopied and downie trance:
Phoebus already quaffs the morning dew,
Each does his daily lease of life renew.
Now you shall hear description, 'tis the very life of poetry.
He darts his beams on the lark's mossy house,
And from his quiet tenement doth rouse
The little charming and harmonious fowl
Which sings its lump of body to a soul.
Swiftly it clambers up in the steep air
With warbling notes, and makes each note a stair.

[59] Sir Roger L'Estrange gives the names of the people attacked.

[60] One of Cromwell's principal officers.

[61] Thus familiarly called, no doubt owing to the custom of giving pet
names to jeste