Yes, I am a happy wife; a happy daughter; a happy mother. When my little Bill stroaked dear father's face just now, and murmured "pretty!" he burst out a-laughing, and cried,-- "You are like the young Cyrus, who exclaimed,--'Oh! mother, how pretty is my grandfather!' And yet, according to Xenophon, the old gentleman was soe rouged and made up, as that none but a child woulde have admired him!" "That's not the case," I observed, "with Bill's grandfather." "He's a More all over," says father, fondly. "Make a pun, Meg, if thou canst, about Amor, Amore, or Amores. 'Twill onlie be the thousand and first on our name. Here, little knave, see these cherries: tell me who thou art, and thou shalt have one. 'More! More!' I knew it, sweet villain. Take them all." I oft sitt for an hour or more, watching Hans Holbein at his brush. He hath a rare gift of limning; and has, besides, the advantage of deare Erasmus his recommendation, for whom he hath alreddie painted our likenesses, but I think he has made us very ugly. His portraiture of my grandfather is marvellous; ne'erthelesse. I look in vayn for y^e spirituallitie which our Lucchese friend, Antonio Bonvisi, tells us is to be found in the productions of y^e Italian schools. Holbein loves to paint with the lighte coming in upon his work from above. He says a lighte from above puts objects in theire proper lighte, and shews theire just proportions; a lighte from beneath reverses alle y^e naturall shadows. Surelie, this hath some truth if we spirituallize it? * * * * * Rupert's cousin, Rosamond Allington, is our guest. She is as beautiful as ... not as an angel, for she lacks the look of goodness, but very beautiful indeed. She cometh hither from Hever Castle, her account of y^e affairs whereof I like not. Mistress Anne is not there at present; indeed, she is now always hanging about court, and followeth somewhat too literallie the Scripturall injunction to Solomon's spouse--to forget her father's house. The King likes well enow to be compared with Solomon, but Mistress Anne is not his spouse yet, nor ever will be, I hope. Flattery and Frenchified habitts have spoilt her, I trow. Rosamond says there is not a good chamber in the castle; even y^e ball-room, which is on y^e upper floor of alle, being narrow and low. On a rainy day, long ago, she and Mistress Anne were playing at shuttlecock therein, when Rosamond's foot tripped at some unevennesse in y^e floor, and Mistress Anne, with a laugh, cried out, "Mind you goe not down into y^e dungeon"--then pulled up a trap-door in the ball-room floor, by an iron ring, and made Rosamond look down into the unknown depth; alle in y^e blacknesse of darkness. 'Tis an awfulle thing to have onlie a step from a ball-room to a dungeon. I'm glad we live in a modern house, we have noe such fearsome sights here.