When the king rose from table, about four o’clock, as we find it in the private journal of one present, he purposed to view the alum-mines, about two miles distant from the Tower; but, being eager for the sport, he went forth again a-hunting.  He shot at a stag and missed.  The next bolt broke the thigh-bone, and the dog being long in coming, Lord Compton despatched the poor beast, whereby his capture was effected.  We forbear to dwell on this, and much more of the like interest, returning with the king to supper, where the beauteous Grace Gerard was present, and Sir John Finett, her true knight and devoted slave.  Dr Morton, then Bishop of Chester, was chaplain, doling out a long Latin grace with great unction.

The music had ceased, the second course being just served, when a signal was given for the king’s pledge.

“Let each one pledge the fairest,” cried the royal toast-master, moved to some unwonted gallantry by approximation with the fair and lusty dames about his person.  For it hath been wittily if not wickedly said by a popular writer in another place that James was in all things like unto Solomon, save in the matter of women.

Now was there a brave stir throughout the assembly.  Such pledging of mistresses and challenging of cups, that nothing could be like unto it.

“To the bright eyes and peerless grace of the lady Grace Gerard,” said Sir John Finett, draining his goblet to the uttermost;—­and the maiden’s cheek glowed like a furnace.

“Said I not that he could win a lady’s grace sooner than a monarch’s disfavour?  Nay, your Majesty, I but meant that Sir John conveys the fairest eyes and the warmest hearts into his own keeping, like an Ochus-Bochus,” said Buckingham, looking envious at the distinction he had gained.

“I see plainly that Truth is hidden in a well,” said Goring, drily.

Sir John Finett, courtier and dissembler as he was, could scarcely hide the truth of this sally.  But he quickly recovered his self-possession ere the king’s eye could detect a change.  Yet did he not escape the vigilance of his two friends, who suspected the real cause of his absence on the preceding night.

“Thou shalt be her true knight to-morrow, and she shall be queen of our sports,” said the king, graciously extending his hand to the blushing maiden.

But this speech pleased not some of the courtiers, and Buckingham, having his eye on this fair flower, secretly resolved that Sir John should not enjoy its fragrance unmolested.

On the following morning, being Sunday, there came a great company of peasants and handicraftsmen—­notorious idlers about the parish—­with a petition, wherein it was shown that the loyal and peaceable inhabitants of Lancashire had been long hindered of their usual diversions on Sundays and other holidays by the rigour of Puritans, Precisians, and such like folk,[32] who, being enemies to all innocent and lawful mirth, did mightily begrudge and maliciously restrain their use.  These petitioners, therefore, prayed his Majesty, “that he would not forbid their exercising of all honest and lawful recreation, such as dancing of men and women, archery, running, leaping, and vaulting; nor prohibit the use of May-games, May-poles, morris-dances, and other like lawful sports, so that the same should not impediment or cause neglect of divine service.”