The theatre for the time was no other place than the beautiful King’s College chapel, across the entire width of which the stage was built.  For light, the yeomen of the royal guard, their fine figures in brilliant uniform, stood in line from end to end of the chapel, each holding a torch.  It was a superb scene, no doubt; the torches throwing their wavering glare against the tracery and the low, pointed arch of window and portal, so beautiful in this chapel, in the ruins of Kenilworth, or wherever it appears; the great space filled with the splendour that Roger Ascham thought so wonderful; and, among the glitter, the troop of handsome youths doing their best to please the sovereign.  Froude gives a story from De Silva, the Spanish ambassador, which reflects so well the character of the time, and shows up boyish human nature with such amusing faithfulness, that I cannot omit it.  When all was over, the students would not let well enough alone, but begged the tired queen to see one more play of their own devising, which they felt sure would give her special pleasure.  The queen, however, departed, going ten miles on her journey to the seat of one of her nobility.  The persistent boys followed her, and she granted them permission to perform before her in the evening.  What should the unconscionable dogs do but drag in the bitter trouble of the time, and heedlessly trample on the queen’s prejudices.  The actors entered dressed like the bishops of Queen Mary, who were then in prison.  Bonner carried a lamb, at which he rolled his eyes and gnashed his teeth.  A dog brought up the rear, carrying the Host in his mouth.  What further was to follow no one can say.  The queen, who was never more than half a Protestant, and clung to the mass all the more devoutly because she was obliged to resign so much, filled the air with her indignation.  She swore good round oaths, we may be sure, and left the room in a rage.  The lights were put out, and the students made off in the dark as they could.

The history of the drama at Oxford has episodes of equal interest.  The visitor who goes through the lovely Christ Church meadows to the Isis to see the boats, returning, will be sure to visit the refectory of Christ Church.  The room is very fine in its proportions and decoration, and hung with the portraits of the multitude of brilliant men who in their young days were Christ Church men.  During all the centuries that the rich dark stain has been gathering upon the carved oak in the ceiling and wainscot, it has been the scene of banquets and pageants without number, at which the most illustrious characters of English history have figured.  I doubt, however, if any of its associations are finer than those connected with the student plays that have been performed here.  Passing over occasions of this kind of less interest of which I find mention, in 1566 Elizabeth visited Oxford, to do honour to whom in this great hall of Christ Church plays were given.  Oxford was determined