te in two of her own castles, to wit, Hertford and Rising:
and set forth a new household for her, appointing Sir John de Molynes
her Seneschal, and Dame Joan de Vaux her chief dame in waiting. Seldom
hath she come to Town, but when there, she tarried in the Palace of my
Lord of Winchester at Southwark, on the river side, and was once in
presence when the King delivered the great Seal to Sir Robert Parving.
Then she was in her wit for a short time. But commonly, at the King's
command, she hath tarried in those two her castles,--to wit, Hertford
and Rising--passing from one to the other according to the counsel of
her physicians. The King hath many times visited her (though never the
Queen, which he ever left at Norwich when he journeyed to Rising), and
so, at times, have divers of his children. Ten years afore her death,
the King's adversary of France, Philippe de Valois, that now calleth him
King thereof, moved the King that Queen Isabel should come to Eu to
treat with his wife concerning peace: and so careful is the King, and
hath ever been, of his mother's honour, that he would not answer him
with the true reason contrary thereto, but treated with him on that
footing, and only at the last moment made excuse to appoint other
envoys. Poor soul! she had no wit thereto. I never saw her after I
left her service saving once, which was when she was at Shene, on
Cantate Sunday [April 29th], an eleven years ere her death, at supper in
the even, where were also the King, the Queen of Scots [her younger
daughter], and the Earl of March [grandson of the first Earl]; and
soothly, for all the ill she wrought, mine heart was woe for the caged
tigress with the beautiful eyes, that was wont to roam the forest wilds
at her pleasure, and now could only pace to and fro, up and down her
cage, and toy with the straws upon the floor thereof. It was pitiful to
see her essaying, like a babe, as she sat at the board, to cause a wafer
to stand on end, and when she had so done, to clap her hands and laugh
with childish glee, and call her son and daughter to look. Very gent
was the King unto her, that looked at her bidding, and lauded her skill
and patience, as he should have done to his own little maid that was but
three years old. Ah me, it was piteous sight! the grand, queenly
creature that had fallen so low! Verily, as she had done, so God
requited her.

She died at Hertford Castle, two days afore Saint Bartholomew next
thereafter [