This unpremeditated buffoonery answered the purpose probably better than
the set speech would have done. The Queen laughed heartily, and swore
(in her turn) that he had made the best speech she had heard that day.
Lambourne, who instantly saw his jest had saved his bones, jumped on
shore, gave his dolphin a kick, and declared he would never meddle with
fish again, except at dinner.
At the same time that the Queen was about to enter the Castle, that
memorable discharge of fireworks by water and land took place, which
Master Laneham, formerly introduced to the reader, has strained all his
eloquence to describe.
"Such," says the Clerk of the Council-chamber door "was the blaze of
burning darts, the gleams of stars coruscant, the streams and hail of
fiery sparks, lightnings of wildfire, and flight-shot of thunderbolts,
with continuance, terror, and vehemency, that the heavens thundered, the
waters surged, and the earth shook; and for my part, hardy as I am, it
made me very vengeably afraid."
[See Laneham's Account of the Queen's Entertainment at Killingworth
Castle, in 1575, a very diverting tract, written by as great a coxcomb
as ever blotted paper. [See Note 6] The original is extremely rare,
but it has been twice reprinted; once in Mr. Nichols's very curious and
interesting collection of the Progresses and Public Processions of
Queen Elizabeth, vol.i. and more lately in a beautiful antiquarian
publication, termed KENILWORTH ILLUSTRATED, printed at Chiswick, for
Meridew of Coventry and Radcliffe of Birmingham. It contains reprints
of Laneham's Letter, Gascoigne's Princely Progress, and other scarce
pieces, annotated with accuracy and ability. The author takes the
liberty to refer to this work as his authority for the account of the
festivities.
I am indebted for a curious ground-plan of the Castle of Kenilworth,
as it existed in Queen Elizabeth's time, to the voluntary kindness of
Richard Badnall Esq. of Olivebank, near Liverpool. From his obliging
communication, I learn that the original sketch was found among the
manuscripts of the celebrated J. J. Rousseau, when he left England.
These were entrusted by the philosopher to the care of his friend
Mr. Davenport, and passed from his legatee into the possession of Mr.
Badnall.]