een Elizabeth visited
the ancient and historic castle of Sudeley, great preparations were made
for the event, and a fine classical pageant was performed in her
presence, a sketch of which may not be without interest.

The play is founded on the old classical story of Apollo and Daphne. The
sun-god Apollo was charmed by the beauty of the fair Daphne, the
daughter of a river-god, and pursued her with base intent. Just as she
was about to be overtaken, she prayed for aid, and was immediately
changed into a laurel tree, which became the favourite tree of the
disappointed lover. The pageant founded on this old classical legend
commenced with a man who acted the part of Apollo, chasing a woman who
represented Daphne, followed by a young shepherd bewailing his hard
fate. He, too, loved the fair and beautiful Daphne, but Apollo wooed her
with fair words, and threatened him with diverse penalties, saying he
would change him into a wolf, or a cockatrice, or blind his eyes. The
shepherd in a long speech tells how Daphne was changed into a tree, and
then Apollo is seen at the foot of a laurel tree weeping, accompanied by
two minstrels. The repentant god repeats the verse:--

"Sing you, play you; but sing and play my truth;
This tree my lute, these sighs my note of ruth:
The laurel leaf for ever shall be green,
And chastity shall be Apollo's queen.
If gods may die, here shall my tomb be placed,
And this engraven, 'Fond Phoebus, Daphne chaste.'"

A song follows, and then, wonderful to relate, the tree opens, and
Daphne comes forth. Apollo resigns her to the humble shepherd, and then
she runs to Her Majesty the Queen, and with a great deal of flattery
wishes her a long and prosperous reign.

Such was the simple play which delighted the minds of our forefathers,
and helped to raise them from sordid cares and the dull monotony of
continual toil. In our popular amusements the village folk do not take
part, except as spectators, and therefore lose half the pleasure;
whereas in the time of the Virgin Queen the rehearsals, the learning the
speeches by heart, the dresses, the excitement, all contributed to give
them fresh ideas and new thoughts. The acting may not have been very
good; indeed Queen Elizabeth did not always think very highly of the
performances of her subjects at Coventry, and was heard to exclaim,
"What fools ye Coventry folk are!" But I think Her Majesty must have
been pleased at the concluding address of th