me at Poissy a couple of coifs, with gold and silver
crowns, such as they have made for me before. Remind Breton of his
promise to send me from Italy the newest kind of head-dress, veils,
and ribands, wrought with gold and silver, and I will repay him.

"September 22.--Deliver to my uncle the cardinal the two cushions of
my work which I send herewith. Should he be gone to Lyons, he will
doubtless send me a couple of beautiful little dogs; and you likewise
may procure a couple for me; for, except in reading and working, I
take pleasure solely in all the little animals I can obtain. You must
send them hither very comfortably put up in baskets.

"February 12, 1576.--I send the king of France some poodle-dogs
(barbets), but can only answer for the beauty of the dogs, as I am not
allowed either to hunt or to ride."[130]

It is said that one of the articles which in its preparation beguiled
her, perchance, of some melancholy thoughts, was a waistcoat which,
having richly and beautifully embroidered, she sent to her son; and
that this selfish prince was heartless enough to reject the offering
because his mother (still surely Queen of Scotland in his eyes)
addressed it to him as prince.

The poet so often quoted wrote the subjoined sonnet in Queen
Elizabeth's praise, whose skill with her needle was remarkable. She
was especially an adept in the embroidering with gold and silver, and
practised it much in the early part of her life, though perhaps few
specimens of her notability now exist:--

"When this great queene, whose memory shall not
By any terme of time be overcast;
For when the world and all therein shall rot,
Yet shall her glorious fame for ever last.
When she a maid had many troubles past,
From jayle to jayle by Maries angry spleene:
And Woodstocke, and the Tower in prison fast,
And after all was England's peerelesse queene.
Yet howsoever sorrow came or went,
She made the needle her companion still,
And in that exercise her time she spent,
As many living yet doe know her skill.
Thus shee was still, a captive, or else crown'd,
A needlewoman royall and renown'd."

Of Mary II., the wife of the Prince of Orange, Bishop Fowler writes
thus:--"What an enemy she was to idleness! even in ladies, those who
had the honour to serve her are living instances. It is well known how
great a part of the day they were employed at their needles and
several ingenuities; the