Richard I. was hunting in one of his Norman forests when he was met by a hermit, who prophesied that, unless he repented, his end was close at hand. The King made light of the warning and went his way, but ere long he was seized with an illness which threatened to prove fatal, when, remembering the words of the hermit-prophet, he made public confession of his sins, and vowed to be reconciled to his queen Berengaria. Edward IV. had a passion for astrology, divination, and every kind of fortune-telling, in which he imitated the pursuits of Henry V.; and Elizabeth of York relates how “her father, being one day studying a book of magic in the palace of Westminster, was extremely agitated, even to tears, and, though earls and lords were present, none durst speak to him but herself. She came and knelt before him for his blessing, upon which he threw his arms around her, and lifted her into a high window; and when he had set her there, he gave her the _reason_ or horoscope he had drawn, and bade her show it to no one but Lord Stanley, for he had plainly calculated that no son of his should wear the crown after him. He predicted that she should be queen, and the crown would rest with her descendants.” In Wyatt’s “Memorials of Anne Boleyn” the following incident is related as having happened previous to her marriage with Henry: A book, assuming to be of a prophetic character, and of a similar class with the oracular hieroglyphic almanacs of succeeding centuries, was mysteriously placed in her chamber one day, on seeing which she called her principal attendant, Anne Saville. “Come hither, Nan,” said she. “See, here is a book of prophecies; this is the King, this is the Queen, and this is myself, with my head cut off.” Anne Saville answered, “If I thought it true, I would not myself have him were he an emperor.” “Tut! Nan,” replied Anne Boleyn, “I think the book a bauble, and I am resolved to have him, that my issue may be royal, whatever may become of me.” But such a forecast of the future was at this period of common occurrence, and was no doubt occasionally adopted as a device for deterring the sovereign from some design which his opponents desired to frustrate. Another anecdote is told of Catherine Parr, illustrative of her power of retort when quite young. It seems that some one skilled in prognostications, casting her nativity, said that “she was born to sit in the highest seat of imperial majesty, having all the eminent stars and planets in her house.” This forecast of her life she did not forget, and, when her mother used at times to call her to work, she would reply, “My hands are ordained to touch crowns and sceptres, and not spindles and needles.”