This lady being singularly beautiful, as well as amiable in her manners,
attracted the affections of both the brothers. The elder, however, was
the favourite, and he privately married her; which the younger not
knowing, and overhearing an appointment of the lovers to meet the next
night in her bed-chamber, he contrived to get his brother otherwise
employed, and made the signal of admission himself, (thinking it a mere
intrigue.) Unfortunately he succeeded.

On discovery, the lady lost her reason, and soon after died. The two
brothers fought, and the elder fell. The father broke his heart a few
months afterwards. The younger brother, Charles Brandon, the
unintentional author of all this family misery, quitted England in
despair, with a fixed determination of never returning.

Being abroad for several years, his nearest relations supposed him dead,
and began to take the necessary steps for obtaining his estates; when,
roused by this intelligence, he returned privately to England, and for a
time took obscure lodgings in the vicinity of his family mansion.

While he was in this retreat, the young king, (Henry VIII.), who had
just buried his father, was one day hunting on the borders of Hampshire,
when he heard the cries of a female in distress in an adjoining wood.
His gallantry immediately summoned him to the place, though he then
happened to be detached from all his courtiers, where he saw two
ruffians attempting to violate the honour of a young lady. The king
instantly drew on them; and a scuffle ensued, which roused the _reverie_
of Charles Brandon, who was taking his morning walk in an adjoining
thicket. He immediately ranged himself on the side of the king, whom he
then did not know; and by his dexterity, soon disarmed one of the
ruffians, while the other fled.