“Most gracious prince, undoubted sovereign queen, Our only joy next God and chief defence; In this small shew our whole estate is seen, The wealth we have we find proceed from thence; The idle hand hath here no place to feed, The painsful wight hath still to serve his need; Again our seat denies our traffick here, The sea too near divides us from the rest. So weak we were within this dozen year, As care did quench the courage of the best; But good advice hath taught these little hands To rend in twain the force of pining bands. From combed wool we draw the slender thread, From thence the looms have dealing with the same, And thence again in order do proceed, These several works which skilful art doth frame, And all to drive dame _Need_ into her cave Our heads and hands together laboured have. We bought before the things that now we sell. These slender imps, their works do pass the waves, Of every mouth the hands the charges saves, Thus through thy help, and aid of power divine, Doth Norwich live, whose hearts and goods are thine.’”
This device gave her majesty much pleasure.
Another very magnificent affair, with gates of jasper and marble, was placed across the market-place, five female figures on the stage above representing the _City_, _Deborah_, _Judith_, _Hester_, and _Martia_ (a queen); whose chief, the _City_, was spokeswoman first, and was succeeded by the others each in turn. All that they said we dare not tarry to repeat; the City expressed herself in some hundred lines of poetry, the rest rather more briefly. “Whom fame resounds with thundering trump;” “Flower of Grace, Prince of God’s Elect;” “Mighty Queen, finger of the Lord,” and such like hyperbole, made up the substance of their flattery. We know the good Queen Bess was somewhat fond of such food, but we think even her taste must have been somewhat palled with the specimens offered on this occasion. Others of a similar character were scattered along her pathway to the cathedral. After service she retired to her quarters at the palace of the bishop. On the Monday the deviser planned a scheme by which her majesty was enticed abroad by the invitation of Mercury, who was sent in a coach covered with birds and little angels in the air and clouds, a tower in the middle, decked with gold and jewels, topped by a plume of feathers, spangled and trimmed most gorgeously; Mercury himself in blue satin, lined with cloth of gold, with garments cut and slashed according to the most approved fashion of the day, a peaked hat, made to “_cut the wind_,” a pair of wings on his head and his _heels_; in his hand a golden rod with another pair of wings. The horses of his coach were painted and furnished each with wings, and made to “drive with speed that might resemble flying;” and in this guise did Mercury present himself before the window at the palace, and tripping from his throne, made his most humble obeisance and lengthy speech, all which most graciously was received by her majesty. Thus ended this day’s sport.