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Thus you at Odiham stand on the edge of a chalk basin; of what was once a sea, or estuary, with shores of chalk, which begins at the foot of the High Clere Hills, and runs eastward, widening as it goes, past London, into the Eastern Sea. Everywhere under this great basin is the floor of chalk, covered with clays and sands, which, for certain reasons, are called by geologists Tertiary strata.
It was not often that Mrs Clere was asked for her superior goods, for she dealt chiefly with those whose purses would not stretch so far. "Here, Madam, is a fine one of carnation velvet and here a black wrought in gold twist; or what think you of this purple bordered in pearls?" "That liketh me the best," said the Mayoress taking up the purple velvet. "What cost it, Mistress Clere?"
Clere, who felt deeply the respectful delicacy with which he had conducted himself towards his sister.
Mrs Clere measured off the florence, tied it up, received the twelve shillings, which Audrey drew from her pocket as slowly as possible, perhaps fancying that Mrs Clere might relent, and threw it into the till as if the coins were severely to blame for something. Audrey took up her purchase, and went out.
The next morning the bugles were sounded by daybreak in the court of Lord Boteler's mansion, to call the inhabitants from their slumbers, to assist in a splendid chase, with which the baron had resolved to entertain his neighbour Fitzallen and his noble visitor St. Clere.
Just as Amy Clere put her head out of the window. Mr Maynard, who did not reckon patience among his chief virtues, and who was tired of waiting, signed to one of his men to give another sharp rap, accompanied by a shout of "Open, in the Queen's name!" "Saints, love us and help us!" ejaculated Amy, taking her head in again. "Mother, it's the Queen's men!"
'And I,'said Fitzosborne, 'have done madly in presenting before her one whose presence must recall moments the most alarming in her life. While the ladies supported Emma from the hall, Lord Boteler and Saint Clere requested an explanation from Fitzosborne of the words he had used.
"Whose work is it, think you?" "The work," said I, "of a man who would set the whole world on fire, and only for love." "And when he saw the statly towre Shining baith clere and bricht, Whilk stood abune the jawing wave, Built on a rock of height, "'Says, Row the boat, my mariners, And bring me to the land, For yonder I see my love's castle Close by the saut sea strand." Rough Royal.
This copy of mine is of the greatest rarity, for it contains two dedicatory sonnets by Richard Niccols, one addressed to Lady Elizabeth Clere and the other to the Earl of Nottingham, which seem to have been instantly suppressed, and are only known to exist in this and, I believe, one or two other examples of the book. These are, perhaps, worth reprinting for their curiosity.
Elizabeth well knew that the strap was no figure of speech, and that Mistress Clere when angry had no light hand. Girls were beaten cruelly in those days, and grown women too, when their mothers or mistresses chose to punish them for real or supposed offences. But Elizabeth Foulkes thought very little of the pain she might suffer, and very much of the needed warning which had not been given.
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