sify the
lives of our more simple-minded forefathers.

The people, too, loved pageants which were performed on great
occasions, during a Royal progress for instance, or to welcome the
advent of some mighty personage. Great preparations were made for
these exhibitions of rustic talent; long verses were committed to
memory; rehearsals were endless, and the stories of Greek and Roman
mythology were ransacked to provide scenes and subjects for the
rural pageant. All this must have afforded immense amusement and
interest to the country-folk in the neighbourhood of some lord's
castle, when the king or queen was expected to sojourn there.
Shepherds and shepherdesses, gods and goddesses, clowns and mummers,
all took part in the play, and it may interest my readers to give an
account of one of these pageants, which was performed before Queen
Elizabeth when she visited the ancient and historic castle of
Sudeley.[16]

The play is founded on the old classical story of Apollo and Daphne.
The sun-god, Apollo, was charmed by the beauty of the fair Daphne,
the daughter of a river-god, and pursued her with base intent. Just
as she was about to be overtaken she prayed for aid, and was
immediately changed into a laurel-tree, which became the favourite
tree of the disappointed lover. The pageant founded on this old
classical legend commenced with a man, who acted the part of Apollo,
chasing a woman, who represented Daphne, followed by a young
shepherd bewailing his hard fate. He, too, loved the fair and
beautiful Daphne, but Apollo wooed her with fair words, and
threatened him with diverse penalties, saying he would change him
into a wolf, or a cockatrice, or blind his eyes. The shepherd in a
long speech tells how Daphne was changed into a tree, and then
Apollo is seen at the foot of a laurel-tree weeping, accompanied by
two minstrels. The repentant god repeats the verse--

"Sing you, play you; but sing and play my truth;
This tree my lute, these sighs my note of ruth:
The laurel leaf for ever shall be green,
And Chastity shall be Apollo's Queen.
If gods may die, here shall my tomb be placed,
And this engraven, 'Fond Phoebus, Daphne chaste.'"

A song follows, and then, wonderful to relate, the tree opens, and
Daphne comes forth. Apollo resigns her to the humble shepherd, and
then she runs to her Majesty the Queen, and with a great deal of
flattery wishes her a long and prosperous reign.

Such was the s