that thus much we have gained already, viz., that the marriage that was made in paradise between Adam and Eve, though it was the first in time, yet it was but secondary to the first intention; and he that said, “Before Abraham was, I am,” was also before Adam was; and though the first marriage was but a type of the second, yet the second, according to the aforesaid intention, was an antecedent to the first. God, who having an intention to wed his Sonne to his beloved spouse, the Church, gave way to this type, or figure, or--to bring the similitude a little homer--mock-wedding, which was between Adam and Eve, whom to make appear more worthy and glorious in the eyes of his beloved, and all other creatures, he arrayed with full majesty, and the robe of righteousness. His mercy--the lady and empress of all the glorious attributes of God--arrais this type and figure of his Church with the robe of innocence, and gives them both a large proportion of his grace. These blessings, Adam, by tasting the forbidden fruit, lost with his paradise, and slept in death. Gentlemen,’ concluded the Marquess, ‘I will not make any application hereof, lest I may seeme to mistrust your wisdomes; but I have nothing to say to the woman.’”[231] The preceding is certainly a very curious passage in the history of A potent, grave, and reverend signior. It reminds one of some parts of Don Quixote and of Rabelais--all but the sermon at the close--which may have been imitated from one of the old “Mysteries” then in vogue. But to these “Apophthegms” and Dr. Bayly, the “martial chaplain” of the household, we may return in a subsequent portion of the work. In the meantime, we shall take a survey of Raglan Castle, as it now appears, and then proceed to a narrative of the Royal Visits. <g>Architectural Details.</g>--Of the strength, beauty, and attractions of this stronghold--which we are now to examine with some degree of minuteness--a quaint old poet[232] has thus recorded his admiration:-- A famous Castle fine That <g>Raglan</g> hight, stands moated almost round; Made of free-stone, upreight, as straight as line, Whose workmanship in beauty doth abound, With curious knots, wrought all with edged tool: The stately Tower that looks o’er pond and poole; The fountaine trim, that runs both day and night, Doth yeald in shew a rare and noble sight.