For who could rest when she was ill?
O may'st thou henceforth sweetly sleep!
Shear, swains, oh shear your softest sheep
To swell his couch; for well I ween,
He saved the realm who saved his Queen.

Quoth I, please God, I'll his with glee
To court, this Arbuthnot to see.

Such loyalty, of course, the hardest heart must touch, but loyalty in
this case had its reward, and the journey to Court was well worth the
pains:--

There saw I ladies all a-row
Before their Queen in seemly show.
No more I'll sing Buxoma brown,
Like goldfinch in her Sunday gown;
Nor Clumsilis, nor Marian bright,
Nor damsel that Hobnelia hight.
But Lansdown fresh as flowers of May,
And Berkely lady blithe and gay,
And Anglesea, whose speech exceeds
The voice of pipe or oaten reeds;
And blooming Hyde, with eyes so rare,
And Montague beyond compare.
Such ladies fair wou'd I depaint
In roundelay or sonnet quaint.

But charming as were these ladies, there was still a better sight in
store for the visitor:--