had at the last moment seen fit to alter his policy. He had sold himself to a higher bidder; he had pledged himself to Charles in the very teeth of his solemn engagement to Francis. Even whilst celebrating this league of amity, he was turning in his own mind the means by which to rupture it; and was yet withal, nervously fearful of any accident which should prematurely break it, or lead to a discovery of his own faithlessness.-So much for his enjoyment! So. Our KING HENRY was all delight, and eager impetuous enjoyment. He had not outlived the good promise of his youth; nor had his foibles become, by indulgence, vices. He loved to see all around him happy; he loved, more especially, to make them He delighted in all the exercises of the field; he was unrivalled in the tilt and the tournament; and when engaged in them forgot kings and kingdoms. His vanity, outrageous as it was, hardly sat ungracefully on him, so much was it elevated then by bouyant good humour-so much was it softened at that time by his noble presence, his manly grace, his kingly accomplishments, and his regal munificence. The stern and selfish tyrant whom one shudders to think upon, was then only "bluff King Hal," loving and beloved, courted and caressed by an empire. He gave himself up to the gaieties of the time without a care for the present, a thought for the future. Could he have glanced dimly into that future! But he could not, and he was happy. FRANCIS was admirably qualified to grace this scene, and to enjoy it, as probably he did enjoy it, vividly. Yet was this gratification by no means un : alloyed. His gentle manly nature was irritated at certain stipulations of Henry's advisers, by which their most trivial intercourse was subjected to specific regulations. There were recorded instances enough of treacherous advantages taken to justify fully this conduct on the part of Henry's ministers; but Francis felt its injustice, as applied to himself, and at that time, made use of a generous and wellknown stratagem to convince others. But in the midst of his enjoyments he had misgivings on his mind of a more serious nature, caused by the Emperor's recent visit to Dover. These misgivings were increased by the meeting between Henry and Charles at Gravelines; and too surely confirmed by quickly-following circumstances. The gentle and good KATHARINE of England, and the equally amiable Queen CLAUDE, the carefully-trained stepdaughter of the noble and admirable Anne of Bretagne, probably derived their chief gratification here from the pleasure of seeing their husbands amicable and happy. For queens though they were, their happiness was in domestic life, and their chief empire was over the hearts of those domesticated with them. Not so the DOWAGER QUEEN of France-the lively, and graceful, and beautiful Duchess of Suffolk; for though very fond of her royal brother, and devoted to her gallant husband, she had yet an eye and an ear for all the revelries around, and had a radiant glance and a beaming smile for all who crowded to do homage to her charms. And yet her heart must have been somewhat hard-and that we know it was not-if she could have inhaled the air of France, or trod its sunny soil, without recollections which must have dimmed her eye at the thoughts of the past, even whilst breathing a thanksgiving for the present. Somewhat less than five years ago, she had been taken thither a weeping bride; youth, nature, inclination, nay, hope itself, sacrificed to that expediency by which the actions of monarchs are regulated. We are accustomed to read these things so much as mere historical memoranda, to look upon them in their cold unvarnished simplicity of detail, like the rigid outlines of stiff old portraits which we can scarcely suppose were ever meant to represent living flesh and blood-that it requires a strong effort to picture these circumstances to our eyes as actually occurring. In considering the state policy of the thing-and the apparent national advantage of the King of England's sister being married to the King of France-we forget that this King of England's sister was a fair young creature, with warm heart, gushing affections, and passions and feelings just opening in all the vividness of early womanhood; and that she was condemned to marry a sickly, querulous, elderly man, who began his loving rule by dismissing at once, even while she was 'a stranger in a foreign land," every endeared friend and attendant who had accompanied her thither; and that, worse than all, her young affections had been sought and gained by a noble English gentleman, the favourite of the English king, and the pride of his Court. Surely her lot was hard; and well might she weepingly exclaim, "Where is now my hope?" Little could she suppose (for Louis, though infirm, was not aged) that three or four short months would see her not only at liberty from her enforced vows, but united to the man of her heart. Must there not, while watching the tilting of her graceful and gallant husband, must there not have been melancholy in her mirth?-must there not, in the keen encounter of wits during the banquet or the ball-must there not have mingled method with her madness? Who shall record, or even refer to the hopes, and feelings, and wishes, and thoughts, and reflections of the thousands congregated thither; each one with feelings as intense, with hopes as individually important as those which influenced the royal King of France, or the majestic monarch of England! The loftiest of Christendom's knights, the loveliest. of Christendom's daughters were assembled here; and the courteous Bayard, the noble Tremouille, the lofty Bourbon, felt inspired more gallantly, if possible, than was even their wont, when contending in all love and amity with the proudest of England's champions, in presence of the fairest of her blueeyed maidens, the noblest of her courtly dames. Nor were the lofty and noble alone there congregated. After the magnificent structure for the king and court, after every thing in the shape of a tenement in, out, or about the little town of Guisnes, and the neighbouring hamlets, were occupied, two thousand eight hundred tents were set up on the side of the English alone. No noble or baron would be absent; but likewise knights, and squires, and yeomen flocked to the scene: citizens and city wives disported their richest silks and their heaviest chains; jews went for gain, pedlars for knavery, tradespeople for their craft, rogues for mischief. Then there were "vagaboundes, plowmen, laborers, wagoners, and beggers, that for drunkennes lay in routes and heapes, so great resorte thether came, that bothe knightes and ladies that wer come to see the noblenes, were faine to lye in haye and strawe, and hold theim thereof highly pleased." The accommodations provided for the king and privileged members of his court on this occasion were more than magnificent; a vast and splendid edifice that seemed to be endued with the magni ficence, and to rise almost with the celerity of that prepared by the slaves of the lamp, where the richest tapestry and silk embroidery-the costliest produce of the most accomplished artisans, were almost unnoticed amid the gold and jewellery by which they were surrounded-where all that art could produce, or riches devise had been lavishedall this has been often described. And the tent itself, the nucleus of the show, the point where the "brother" kings were to confer, was hung round with cloth of gold: the posts, the cones, the cords, the tents, were all of the same precious metal, which glittered here in such excessive profusion as to give I that title to the meeting which has superseded all others" The Field of the Cloth of Gold.” This gaudy pageant was the prelude to an era of great interest, for while dwelling on the "galanty shew" we cannot forget that now reigned Solyman the magnificent, and that this was the age of Leo the Tenth; that Charles the Fifth was now begin |