Mistress of a fairer table,
Hath no history or fable;
Others’ fortunes may be shewn,
You are builder of your own,
And whatever Heaven hath gi’n you,
You preserve the state still in you.

Here ended the fortune-telling. And now, a dance of clowns, “Cockrel, Clod, Town’head, and Puffy,” each personated by knights, delighted the company with a colloquy in prose, and in their hands the conduct of the piece remained until the Gipsies, metamorphosed, “appeared in rich habits, to close the whole with a eulogy upon King James.”

A song was introduced just before the conclusion:—

Oh, that we understood
Our good!
There’s happiness indeed in blood,
And store—
But how much more When virtue’s flood
In the same stream doth hit!
As that grows high with years, so happiness
With it!

Thus ended this masque, which furnishes, in the estimation of a great critic, “specimens of poetic excellence, injurious flattery, and adroit satire.”

James was delighted with his cheer at Burleigh.[315] Before departing for Belvoir, he noticed, with much satisfaction, that there was a prospect of there soon being an heir to the house of Villiers; and, after uttering a fervent wish that all might prosper, he called upon the Bishop of London, by way of amen, to give the young couple a blessing in his presence on the interesting expectation.[316]

This gay scene was followed by some mischances. James, riding out after dinner, from Theobalds, early in the next year,[317] was thrown into the New River;[318] the ice broke, and he fell in, nothing appearing above the water except his boots. Buckingham, who was not with him, was sent for from Hertfordshire, and posted away to attend his royal master. The King recovered from this accident, but his infirmities increased daily; he was confined for some time at Theobalds, “by reason of a defluxion,” which, setting in his leg, assumed the form of gout; and he was obliged to be carried out in a litter when he went to see the deer.

Preparations were now made for that event to which James had referred when he had called the Bishop of London to bless the parents of the babe yet unborn. Yet, contrary to His Majesty’s expectations, it did not prove to be a “fine boy.” Early in the year 1622, a daughter, afterwards christened Mary, gladdened the hearts of the young and happy parents. On the twenty-seventh of March, the Marchioness was sufficiently recovered to be churched in the King’s chamber, where she dined, notwithstanding that the King was in bed. The Duchess of Lennox accompanied her on this occasion. This lady, was recently married, for the third time, to the Duke of Lennox, her first husband having been Henry Purnell, Esq.; her second, Edward Seymour, first Earl of Hertford. Ludowick, Duke of Richmond and Lennox, her husband, was a cousin of the King’s,[319] being grandson to John D’Aubignie, who was brother to Mathew, Earl of Lennox, grandfather of His Majesty. The Duke of Lennox deservedly enjoyed a great share of the King’s confidence; and it was a proof of the highest consideration for the young Marchioness of Buckingham, that his duchess should be her companion at the ceremony of churching. The Duchess attended her also in her sickness, and was rewarded for “her great pains and care in making broths and caudles” for the invalid, by a present from the King of a fair chain of diamonds, with his picture suspended to it, Prince Charles and the Marquis of Buckingham being charged to convey it to the Duchess, who, henceforth, came to be “in great request, and to be much courted and respected by the Prince.”[320]