is the unfeminine speech of Queen Margaret after stabbing the Duke of York. Nor does she seem to have felt much remorse, for afterwards, when the head must have been there for some time, she says, in entering York, to Henry-- “Welcome, my lord, to this brave town of York; Yonder’s the head of that arch enemy; Does not the object cheer your heart, my lord?” and as if to show what a common sight such terrible spectacles were in those days, a poetic justice is dealt out in the same play of Henry VI. on Clifford, where Warwick says-- “From off the gates of York fetch down the head, Your father’s head, which Clifford placed there; Instead whereof let this supply the room, Measure for measure must be answered.” The old prints of London bridge show these shocking accompaniments to ancient street scenes; and indeed to translate them into modern language, the photographs of the Greek brigands that were clustered in a group after murdering some estimable English gentlemen are only a reflex. These photographs, after whatever feeble justice could be done, are yet exposed in London. Stonegate Street overlooks the Cathedral from the south side, and at every step there is some view that would gladden the eye of Prout or Cattermole. The south transept opens up at every turn, and forms some new combination with the surrounding quaint old houses. The colouring is extremely rich and beautiful, the various tints of ochre being freely used on the fronts of the buildings, and many quaint old windows and gables thrust themselves in front of their neighbours, as if in amicable rivalry which could be the most picturesque. In speaking of the Ouse bridge, Britton says, “The superior construction of bridges may justly be the boast of modern architecture. Those of the middle ages were generally built in a clumsy and unscientific manner, with huge piers and straight arches; the passage over them was usually narrow, and in towns they were generally covered by shops and houses built on their sides. Notwithstanding these inconveniences, the picturesque features of some of those old buildings make their destruction a matter of regret to the admirers of antiquity. The Ouse bridge at York was chiefly remarkable for the size of its central arch, which certainly was an extraordinary effort of art, its span exceeding that of any arch in England, until the erection of Blackfriars Bridge in London.[8] This arch was pointed, but approached nearly to a circular curve. It had been built in the reign of Elizabeth after a great flood had swept away part of the bridge with twelve of the houses standing on it,” and it had been recently taken down when Britton wrote. It must have been intensely picturesque. There was a chapel at one end with a lancet front; and under it were two pointed cavernous arches spanning the water; while at the other side were tall houses like those in Rotterdam, with buttresses and mullioned windows.