the opening scene of Cymbeline; never lower than two in seven, which is the same as in the trial scene in the Winter's Tale; and the average being about one in three; while, in the remaining ten scenes the proportion of such lines is never less than one in two; in the greater number of them scarcely more than two in three. Nor is there anything in the subject or character of the several scenes by which such a difference can be accounted for. The light and loose conversation at the end of the first Act, the plaintive and laboured oration in the second, the querulous and passionate altercation in the third, the pathetic sorrows of Wolsey, the tragic death of Katharine, the high poetic prophecy of Cranmer, are equally distinguished by this peculiarity. A distinction so broad and so uniform, running through so large a portion of the same piece, cannot have been accidental; and the more closely it is examined the more clearly will it appear that the metre in these two sets of scenes is managed upon entirely different principles, and bears evidence of different workmen. To explain all the particular differences would be to analyse the structure first of Shakspere's metre, then of Fletcher's; a dry and tedious task. But the general difference may easily be made evident by placing any undoubted specimen of Shakspere's later workmanship by the side of the one, and of Fletcher's middle workmanship by the side of the other; the identity in both cases will be felt at once. The only difficulty is to find a serious play known to be the unassisted composition of Fletcher, and to have been written about the year 1612: for in those which he wrote before his partnership with Beaumont his distinctive mannerism is less marked; in those which he wrote after Beaumont's death it is more exaggerated. But read the last Act of the "Honest Man's Fortune," which was first represented in 1613; the opening of the third Act of the " Captain," which appeared towards the close of 1612; and the great scene extracted by Charles Lamb from the fourth Act of "Thierry and

Theodoret," which, though not produced I believe till 1621, is thought to have been written much earlier; and you will have sufficient samples of his middle style, in all its varieties, to make the comparison. In all these, besides the general structure of the language and rhythm, there are many particular verbal and rhythmical affectations which will at once catch any ear that is accustomed to Shakspere, whose style is entirely free from them; and every one of these will be found as frequent in the un-Shaksperian portions of Henry VIII. as in the abovementioned passages, which are undoubtedly Fletcher's.

Assuming then that Henry VIII. was written partly by Shakspere, partly by Fletcher, with the assistance probably of some third hand, it becomes a curious question, upon what plan the ir joint labours were conducted. It was not unusual in those days, when a play was wanted in a hurry, to set two or three or even four hands at work upon it and the occasion of the Princess Elizabeth's marriage (February 161213) may very likely have suggested the production of a play representing the marriage of Henry VIII. and Anne Bullen. Such an occasion would sufficiently account for the determination to treat the subject not tragically; the necessity for producing it immediately might lead to the employment of several hands; and thence would follow inequality of workmanship and imperfect adaptation of the several parts to each other. But this would not explain the incoherency and inconsistency of the main design. Had Shakspere been employed to make a design for a play which was to end with the happy marriage of Henry and Anne Bullen, we may be sure that he would not have occupied us through the four first acts with a tragic and absorbing interest in the decline and death of Queen Katharine, and through half the fifth with a quarrel between Cranmer and Gardiner, in which we have no interest. On the other hand, since it is by Shakspere that all the principal matters and characters are introduced, it is not likely

that the general design of the piece would be laid out by another. I should rather conjecture that he had conceived the idea of a great historical drama on the subject of Henry VIII. which would have included the divorce of Katharine, the fall of Wolsey, the rise of Cranmer, the coronation of Anne Bullen, and the final separation of the English from the Romish Church, which, being the one great historical event of the reign, would naturally be chosen as the focus of poetic interest; that he had proceeded in the execution of this idea as far perhaps as the third Act, which might have included the establishment of Cranmer in the seat of highest ecclesiastical authority (the councilchamber scene in the fifth being designed as an introduction to that); when, finding that his fellows of the Globe were in distress for a new play to honour the marriage of the Lady Elizabeth with, he thought that his half-finished work might help them, and accordingly handed them his manuscript to make what they could of it; that they put it into the hands of Fletcher (already in high repute as a popular and expeditious playwright), who finding the original design not very suitable to the occasion and utterly beyond his capacity, expanded the three acts into five, by interspersing scenes of show and magnificence, and passages of description, and long poetical conversations, in which his strength lay; dropped all allusion to the great ecclesiastical revolution,

which he could not manage and for which he had no materials supplied him; converted what should have been the middle into the end; and so turned out a splendid "historical masque, or shew-play," which was no doubt very popular then, as it has been ever since.

This is a bold conjecture, but it will account for all the phenomena. Read the portions which I have marked as Shakspere's by themselves, and suppose them to belong to the first half of the play, and they will not seem unworthy of him; though the touches of an inferior hand may perhaps be traced here and there, and the original connexion is probably lost beyond recovery in the interpolations. Suppose again the design of the play as it stands to have been left to Fletcher, and the want of moral consistency and coherency needs no further explanation. The want of a just moral feeling is Fletcher's characteristic defect, and lies at the bottom of all that is most offensive in him, from his lowest mood to his highest. That it has not in this case betrayed him into such gross inconsistencies and indelicacies as usual, may be explained by the fact that he was following the Chronicles and had little room for his own inventions. A comparison between this play and the "Two noble Kinsmen," the condition and supposed history of which is in many respects analogous,* would throw further light upon the question. But this would require too long a discussion. 27 June, 1850. J. S.

MR. URBAN, Oxford, June 20. IN compliance with the invitation contained in your Magazine for April last, p. 411, I send you a transcript of the account of the splendid funeral of the heroine of Walter Scott's Kenilworth. It has been copied from the MS. in the Ashmolean collection, with as much accuracy as possible, but the original is occasionally very obscure, and in those places it is very difficult

to arrive at an absolute certainty as to the reading. I shall leave to glossarists and historical antiquaries more competent than myself, to explain the doubtful words and illustrate the bearing of this document (if it has any) upon the cause of poor Amy's death. I send it to you in conformity with your request, and in order to complete the series of documents upon this subject published in your Magazine.

I have not thought it necessary to print common contractions. The copy will therefore be understood to be a transcript of the MS. in extenso, except where there was any doubt as to the actual word. Yours, &c. A. J.

"The funerall of the lady Amye Robsert, wife of the lord Robert Dudley, knight of the Garter, anno 1560.

(Ex. MS. Dugdale, T. 2, fol. 77.) "Thenterment of the right noble lady Amey Robsert, late wyffe to the right noble the lord Robert Dudelley, knight and compaignion of the moste noble ordre of the Garter and master of the horsse to

the queenes moste excellent majestie, whoo departed out of this world on Sounday, beinge Our Lady day the viij. day of September,* at a keepe of one Mr. Forster, iij. myle of Oxford, in the seconde yere of the reigne of our soveraigne lady queene Elizabeth, by the † queene of England, Fraunce, and Irelaund, defendour of the Faith, &c. Anno domini 1560.

66

Fyrste, after that the said lady was thus departed out of this transsetory world, she was saffely cered and coffened, and so remayned there tyll Fryday the day of the said moneth of September, on the which day she was secreately brought to Glouster college a lytell without the towne of Oxford, the which plasse of Gloster couledge was hanged with blake cloth and garnesshed with skocheons of his armes and heres in palle§, that is to say, a great chamber where the morners did dyne, and at there chamber where the gentillwomen did dyne, and beneth the steres a great hall, all which places as afforesaid were hanged with blake cloth and garnesshed with skochions; the howsse beinge thus furnesshed ther the corsse remayned till the buryall, and till suche tyme as all things were redy for the same. "The mannour of the garnessinge of the churche with the hersse. "Item, it was appoynted that the said corsse should be buryed in Our Lady churche in the said towne of Oxfourd, the which churche was hanged with blake cloth and garnesshed with skochions, and in the mydell eyle, in the upper ende, ther was maid a hersse iiij. square, conteynynge in leingth x. fote, and in bredth vij. fote and a haulf, and in height x. fote on the sydes, and on the tope xiiij. fote, and from the tope came rochements to eche corner of the said square frame; in the which tope of the hersse was set ij. skochions of armes

on paste paper in metall wrought with compartements of gold, and bereth ther penseles round aboute them; beneth that the said tope was kevered all over with fyne blake cloth, and in every square ther was sett iij. skochions in metall, then on the rochements ther was set penseles of sarsenet in metali with bages;|| then on the square beneth the saide rochements went a bredth of blake velvet, on the which ther was pyned skochions in metall, on eche syde iij. and on eche end ij., and at the upper ege of the velvet ther was set penseles rounde aboute, and at the neither ege ther was fastyned a vallence of blake sarsenet wrytten with lettres of gold and frynged with a fringe of blake sylke; ther was a flouer ¶ of bords, and under that flouer ther was a vallence of bokeram with armes on the same; the iiij. postes were kovered with fyne blacke cloth, and on eche poste was fastened ij. skochions, and on the tope of every poste ther was a great skochon of armes on past paper with a compartement on the nether parte of the rayles of the saide hersse was hanged doubled with blake cloth and garnesshed with skochions. Then iiij. foote from the same hersse went a rayll of tymber, the which was covered with blake and garaforsaid, and betwene the said ralle and nesshed with skochions in lyke manner as

the hersse ther was set vii. stoles, that is to say, at the hedd one and one eche syde iij. the which were covered with blake cloth, and cussions at the same to knele on; the quere was also hounge and garnesshed in lyke maner, and at the upper end of the said quere was maid a vaute of bryke where the said crosse was buryed. Thus all things redy the day of the buryall was appoynted, the which was Sonday, the ** day of September, on the which day they proced to the churche in lyke

manner.

"The ordre of the procedinge to the churche with the said corsse from Gloster colledge to Our Lady Churche in Oxford.

"Furste, the ij. conducters with blake staves in there hands to led the waye.

"Then the pore men and women in gownes to the nomber of iiij**.

Then the universsities ij. and ij. together, accordinge to the degres of the colleges, and before every housse ther officers with ther staves.

"Then the quere in surpleses singenge, and after them the mynester.

¶ Floor.

"Then Rouge Crosse pursuvant in his

+ So in MS.

|| Badges.

mornynge gowne, his hod on his hed, and his cote of armes on his bake.

"Then gentillmen havinge blake gownes with there hoods on ther shoulders. "Then Lancaster herauld in his longe gowne, his hod on his hed.

"Then the baner of armes borne by Mr. Appelyard in his longe gowne, his hod on his hed.

"Then Clarenceulx, king of armes, in his longe gowne, and his hood on his hed, and in his cote of armes.

"Then the corpes bore by viij. talle yeomen, for that they* wey was farre aud iiij. assystants to them, and on eche syde of the corsse went ij. assystants touching the corse in longe gownes, and ther hoods on ther hedds, and on eche corner a banerolle borne by a gentleman in a longe gowne, his hod on his hed.

"Then the cheiffe morner, Mrs. Norrys, daughter and heire of the lord Wylliams of Thame, her trayne borne by Mrs. Buteller the younger, she being assysted by Sir Richard Blunte, knight.

"Then Mrs. Wayneman and my lady Pollard.

"Then Mrs. Doylly and Mrs. Buteller thelder.

"Then Mrs. Blunte and Mrs. Mutlowe. "Then iij. yeomen in blake cotes, to seperate the morners from the other gentle

women.

"Then all other gentlewomen, haveing blake, ij and ij.

"Then all yeomen, ij. and ij. in blake

cotes.

"Then the majour of Oxford and his bretheren.

"Then after them all that would, and in this ordre they proced to the churche in at the weste dore, and so to the hersse,

wher the corsse was plased, and on eche syde of the hersse without the ralles stod ij. gentlemen holdinge the bannerroles, and at the fete stod he that held the great banner; then the morners were plased, the chieff at the hed, and on eche syde iij.; thus, every man plassed, the service began, firste sarteyne prayers, then the x. commandments, the quere answeringe in prykesong, then the pystel and the gospell began, and after the gospell the offering began in manner followinge :

"Firste,

"The order of the offeringe.

"Fyrste the cheff morner came fourth havinge before her the officers of armes, her trayne beinge borne, the assystante ledyng her, and thother morners followinge her, went to the offeringe and offered and retorned agayne to the hersse.

"Then after she had maid her obeyssyaunce to the corsse she went upe agayne, havinge before her Garter, and offered for herself and retorned.

"Then offered the assystante to the cheiffe morner, and thother iiij. assystants havinge Clarenceulx before them.

"Then offered thother vj. morners, ij. after ij. having before them Lancaster herauld.

"Then offered all gentillmen, ij. and ij. havinge the Rugecrosse pursivante before them.

"Then the mayor and his brethren offered, havinge an offycer of armes before them.

"Item, the offeringe thus don the sermon began, mad by Doctor Babyngton, Doctor of Devynytie, whose antheme was Beati mortui qui in Domino moriuntur."

"RAMBOUILLET EST MORT; VIVE RAMBOUILLET!" Such might fairly be the cry over the present condition of this remarkable locality. The old chateau where feudal lords lived like little kings, the gardens wherein euphuism reigned supreme, the palace in whose chambers monarchs have feasted, or at whose gates they have, when fugitives, asked for water and a crust, has fallen into the possession of private speculators, and become popular and vulgar. Rambouillet has descended to something

* Sic in MS.

between Hampton Court and Rosherville. Where the canons of the Sainte Chapelle were privileged to kiss the cheek of the Duchess of Burgundy, there the denizens of St. Antoine may now intrude, if they care to pay for it. Where the D'Amaurys held their feudal state, where Francis followed the chase, and Florian sung, and Penthievre earned immortality by the practice of heavenly virtues; where Louis enthroned Du Barry, and Napoleon presided over councils holding the destiny

of thrones in the balance of his will, there the sorriest mechanic now has right of entrance. The gayest lorettes of the capital smoke their cigarettes where Julie d'Angennes fenced with love; and the bower of queens and the refuge of an empress now rings with echoes born of light-heartedness and lighter wine. This is surely the time to say "RAMBOUILLET EST MORT; VIVE

RAMBOUILLET!"

To a Norman chief and the Norman tongue, Rabouillet, as it used to be written, or the rabbit-warren, owes the name assumed by the palace, about thirteen leagues from Paris, and by the village, which clustered around it. The former is now a quaint and confused pile, the chief tower of which alone is older than the days of Hugues Capet. Some authors describe the range of buildings as taking the form of a horse-shoe, but the hoof would be indescribable to which a shoe so shaped could be fittingly applied. The changes and additions have been as much without end as without taste; and in its present architectural entirety it wears as motley an aspect as would Cœur de Lion in Pall Mall with a modern paletot over his "complete steel!" The early masters of Rambouillet were if a powerful yet an uninteresting race. It is sufficient to record of the D'Amaurys that they held it, to the satisfaction of few people but themselves, from about 1003 to 1317. Further record these mailed proprietors require not. We will let them sleep on undisturbedly, their arms duly crossed on their breast, in the peace of a well-merited oblivion. Requiescant!

One relic of the baronial days, however, survived to the period of the first French revolution. In the domain of Rambouillet was the fief of Montorgueil, which was held by the prior of St. Thomas d'Epernon on the following service. The good prior was bound to present himself yearly at the gate of Rambouillet, bareheaded, with a garland on his brow, and mounted on a pie-bald horse, touching whom it was bad service if the animal had not four white feet. The prior, fully armed like a knight, save that his gloves were of a delicate texture, and white in colour, carried a flask of wine at his saddle-bow, and in

one hand a cake, to the making of which had gone a bushel of flour; an equal measure of wheat was also the fee of the lord. The officers of the latter examined narrowly into the completeness of the service, and if they pronounced it imperfect, the prior of D'Epernon was mulcted of the revenues of his fief for the year ensuing. In later days, the ceremony lost much of its meaning; but down to its extinction, the wine, the cake, and the garland were never wanting; and the maidens of Rambouillet were said to be more exacting than the barons themselves, from whom many of them were descended. The festival was ever a joyous one, as became a feudal lord whose kitchen fire-place was of such dimensions that a horseman might ride into it, and skim the pot as he stood in his stirrups !

It is a singular thing that scarcely a monarch has had anything to do with Rambouillet but mischance has befallen him. Francis the First was hunting in its woods when he received intelligence of the death of Henry the Eighth, and with it a shock which the decay sprung from unclean excess could not resist. He entered the chateau as the guest of D'Angennes, in whose family the proprietary rested. The chamber is still shown wherein he died, roaring in agony, and leaving proof of its power over him in the pillow, which, in mingled rage and pain, he tore into strips with his teeth..

A king in not much better circumstances slept in the castle for a night in the year 1588. It was a night in May, and Jean d'Angennes was celebrating the marriage of his daughter, when the ceremony had well nigh been broken by a boisterous knocking at the gates. The wary Jean looked first at the clamorous visitants through the wicket, whence he discerned Henri the Third, flurried yet laughing, seated in an old carriage, around which mustered dusty horsemen, grave cavaliers, and courtiers scantily attired, some with their points untrussed, and many a knight without his boots; an illustrious company, in fact, but not ten nobles in their united purses. Jean threw open the portals to a king and his troop flying from De Guise. The latter had got possession of Paris, and