Yow that the beasts do wel behold and se,
May deme with ease wherefore here made they be
Withe borders wherein ……………………………………
4 brothers' names who list to serche the grovnd.
"Yow that the beasts do wel behold and se,"
"May deme with ease wherefore here made they be"
"Withe borders wherein ................................................"
"4 brothers' names who list to serche the grovnd."
She read it through in the sort of tone that seemed to say she'd recited it daily from birth. Truth be told, the writing on the wall was terribly hard to discern. To one like myself, try as I might, tilting my head this way and that, the words were indecipherable. I found the woman all the more enigmatic.
Having grown uncomfortable, I slipped past and went on ahead. At a corner with crenels, in a mass of disorderly scrawls was "Jane," scribed with careful strokes in small-form letters. My feet brought me to a stop. There's likely not a soul among students of English history to whom the name Jane Grey is not known. Rare is the soul, too, who hasn't shed a tear of sympathy for her sad fate and tragic end. Jane, owing to the ambitions of her father-in-law and husband, was led to the execution grounds, without fault and free from spite, at the age of just eighteen. A rose may be trampled, but the fragrance of the pistil persists, even from afar. In like manner, students of history, even to this day, are enthralled with Jane. It's told that she mastered Greek to read Plato, and in doing so rendered Ascham, the greatest scholar of her day, speechless. This tale, residing in the minds of so many, serves well to portray her poetic gift. I stopped in front of her name, and there I remained. In fact, I should rather state that I was powerless to move further. The curtains of fancy had already drawn apart.