The enemy to the stomach, and the word of disgrace,
Is the name of the gentleman with the bold face.
Sir Walter Raleigh's beard turned up naturally, which gave him an
advantage over the gallants of the time, whose moustaches received a
touch of the barber's art to give them the air then most admired.--See
AUBREY'S CORRESPONDENCE, vol.ii., part ii., p.500.
Note 5. Ch. XV.--COURT FAVOUR OF SIR WALTER RALEIGH.
The gallant incident of the cloak is the traditional account of this
celebrated statesman's rise at court. None of Elizabeth's courtiers knew
better than he how to make his court to her personal vanity, or could
more justly estimate the quantity of flattery which she could
condescend to swallow. Being confined in the Tower for some offence, and
understanding the Queen was about to pass to Greenwich in her barge,
he insisted on approaching the window, that he might see, at whatever
distance, the Queen of his Affections, the most beautiful object which
the earth bore on its surface. The Lieutenant of the Tower (his own
particular friend) threw himself between his prisoner and the window;
while Sir Waiter, apparently influenced by a fit of unrestrainable
passion, swore he would not be debarred from seeing his light, his life,
his goddess! A scuffle ensued, got up for effect's sake, in which the
Lieutenant and his captive grappled and struggled with fury, tore each
other's hair, and at length drew daggers, and were only separated by
force. The Queen being informed of this scene exhibited by her frantic
adorer, it wrought, as was to be expected, much in favour of the captive
Paladin. There is little doubt that his quarrel with the Lieutenant was
entirely contrived for the purpose which it produced.
Note 6. Ch. XVII.--ROBERT LANEHAM.
Little is known of Robert Laneham, save in his curious letter to a
friend in London, giving an account of Queen Elizabeth's entertainments
at Kenilworth, written in a style of the most intolerable affectation,
both in point of composition and orthography. He describes himself as a
BON VIVANT, who was wont to be jolly and dry in the morning, and by his
good-will would be chiefly in the company of the ladies. He was, by the
interest of Lord Leicester, Clerk of the Council Chamber door, and also
keeper of the same. "When Council sits," says he, "I am at hand. If any
makes a babbling, PEACE, say I. If I see a listener or a pryer in at
the chinks or lockhole, I am presently on the bones of him. If a friend
comes, I make him sit down by me on a form or chest. The rest may walk,
a God's name!" There has been seldom a better portrait of the pragmatic
conceit and self-importance of a small man in office.