uloient tromper soubz couleur de luy monstrer
affection.--_Granvelle Papers_, vol. iv.]

It is said that Suffolk was unprepared: but the goodness of his heart
and the weakness of his mind alike saved him from attempting a useless
resistance: the gates were opened, and the unhappy father rushed to
his daughter's room. He clutched at the canopy under which she was
sitting, and tore it down; she was no longer queen, he said, and such
distinctions were not for one of her station. He then told her briefly
of the revolt of the council. She replied that his present words were
more welcome to her than those in which he had advised her to accept
{p.020} the crown;[48] her reign being at an end, she asked
innocently if she might leave the Tower and go home.[49] But the Tower
was a place not easy to leave, save by one route too often travelled.

[Footnote 48: Baoardo to Charles V.: _Rolls House
MSS._]

[Footnote 49: Narrative of Edward Underhill:
_Harleian MSS._ 425.]

Meanwhile the lords, with the mayor and the heralds, went to the Cross
at Cheapside to proclaim Mary Queen. Pembroke himself stood out to
read; and this time there was no reason to complain of a silent
audience. He could utter but one sentence before his voice was lost in
the shout of joy which thundered into the air. "God save the queen,"
"God save the queen," rung out from tens of thousands of throats. "God
save the queen," cried Pembroke himself, when he had done, and flung
up his jewelled cap and tossed his purse among the crowd. The glad
news spread like lightning through London, and the pent-up hearts of
the citizens poured themselves out in a torrent of exultation. Above
the human cries, the long-silent church-bells clashed again into life;
first began St. Paul's, where happy chance had saved them from
destruction; then, one by one, every peal which had been spared caught
up the sound; and through the summer evening and the summer night, and
all the next day, the metal tongues from tower and steeple gave voice
to England's gladness. The lords, surrounded by the shouting
multitude, walked in state to St. Paul's, where the choir again sang a
Te Deum, and the unused organ rolled out once more its mighty volume
of music. As they came out again, at the close of the service, the
apprentices were heaping piles of wood for bonfires at the cross-ways.
The citizens were s