“Great Queen Zenobia am I,
The Roman Power I defy. 
At my Palmyra, in the East,
I rule o’er every man and beast”

Here was an allusion couched in the Roman power, which Master Antony had missed, or he would hardly have uttered it, since he was of a Roman Catholic family, though, while in the Earl’s household, he had to conform outwardly.

A slender, scholarly lad, with a pretty, innocent face, and a voice that could “speak small, like a woman,” came in and announced himself thus—­

“I’m Thisbe, an Assyrian maid,
My robe’s with jewels overlaid.”

The stiff colloquy between the two boys, encumbered with their dresses, shy and awkward, and rehearsing their lines like a task, was no small contrast to the merry impromptu under the oak, and the gay, free grace of the children.

Poor Philidaspes acquitted himself worst of all, for when done up in a glittering suit of sham armour, with a sword and dagger of lath, his entire speech, though well conned, deserted him, and he stood red-faced, hesitating, and ready to cry, when suddenly from the midst of the spectators there issued a childish voice, “Go on, Humfrey!

“Philidaspes am I, most valorous knight,
Ever ready for Church and Queen to fight.

“Go on, I say!” and she gave a little stamp of impatience, to the extreme confusion of the mother and the great amusement of the assembled company.  Humfrey, once started, delivered himself of the rest of his oration in a glum and droning voice, occasioning fits of laughter, such as by no means added to his self-possession.

The excellent Sniggius and his company of boys had certainly, whether intentionally or not, deprived the performance of all its personal sting, and most likewise of its interest.  Such diversion as the spectators derived was such as Hippolyta seems to have found in listening to Wall, Lion, Moonshine and Co.; but, like Theseus, Lord Shrewsbury was very courteous, and complimented both playwright and actors, relieved and thankful, no doubt, that Queen Zenobia was so unlike his royal mistress.

There was nothing so much enforced by Queen Elizabeth as that strangers should not have resort to Sheffield Castle.  No spectators, except those attached to the household, and actually forming part of the colony within the park, were therefore supposed to be admitted, and all of them were carefully kept at a distant part of the hall, where they could have no access to the now much reduced train of the Scottish Queen, with whom all intercourse was forbidden.

Humfrey was therefore surprised when, just as he had come out of the tiring-room, glad to divest himself of his encumbering and gaudy equipments, a man touched him on the arm and humbly said, “Sir, I have a humble entreaty to make of you.  If you would convey my petition to the Queen of Scots!”

“I have nothing to do with the Queen of Scots,” said the ex-Philidaspes, glancing suspiciously at the man’s sleeve, where, however, he saw the silver dog, the family badge.