Laud would have had more vengeance, if he could, but, says the author of the ‘Scout’s Discovery,’--“albeit Archie found favour in his lash, he lost both his coat and his place.” Laud ruined the jester; but he could not subdue his spirit, nor curb his tongue. Archie assumed a suit of sables, and hung about the dead Kings in Westminster Abbey, since he no longer held office in the palace of a living sovereign. “I met Archie,” says a writer in Morgan’s ‘Phœnix Britannicus,’ referring to a week or two after the dismissal,--“I met Archie at the Abbey, all in black. Alas! poor fool, thought I, he mourns for his country. I asked him about his (fool’s) coat. ‘Oh,’ quoth he, ‘my Lord of Canterbury hath taken it from me, because either he or some of the Scots bishops may have the use of it themselves. But he hath given me a black coat for it; and now I may speak what I please, so it be not against the prelates, for this coat hath a greater privilege than the other had.’” The hint that he could exercise the privilege of a jester’s liberty under the clerical black more freely than he could beneath his motley jerkin, was a Parthian dart thrown by a practised though a retreating soldier. It is certainly not the worst saying ever uttered by Archibald Armstrong. It will be seen, too, that Archie, whether in or out of office, had the wit to thrive. Dr. Octavius Gilchrist, in the ‘London Magazine’ for August and September, 1824, at the conclusion of a review of the old jest book which bore Armstrong’s name on the title-page; but with which the “fool” had no other connection, states that Archie derived considerable wealth from the new year’s gifts presented him by the courtiers. It even seems that the ex-jester became a landed proprietor. “To prove,” says Dr. Gilchrist, “that he saved money and laid it out in the purchase of landed property, we have met with a contemporary authority, in an uncommonly rare tract, printed in 12mo, 1636, and entitled ‘The Fatal Nuptials, or Mournful Marriage.’ This is a metrical account of a lamentable accident that occurred in the preceding year, on Windermere Water, when forty-seven persons (among them a young married couple, with their friends and relations going to keep their wedding) were drowned. The anonymous poet (a very bad one, by the way), meaning to enforce the uncertainty of life, and the liability of all ranks to a similar disaster, introduces Archie, who was probably well known in the neighbourhood of the accident. “Is’t so, that we in hourly danger stand, Whether we sail by sea, or go by land? That we to this world but one entrance have, But thousand means of passage to the grave? And that the wise shall no more fruit receive Of all his labours than the fool shall have. For the politick Hum must yield to swelling Humber, As well as the least of his inferior number, _And Archie, that rich fool, when he least dreams. For purchased lands must be possessed of streams._”