devoutly. In those days there were supposed
also to be prophets. When Mother Shipton
heard that. Cardinal Wolsey meant to live at
York, she said—we state all this on the faith
of Lilly, who was an astrologer—she said
that the Cardinal would never come thither.
"Whereupon Wolsey was angry, and desired
the king to send the Earl of Suffolk, Lord
Piercy, and Lord Darcey to her. Those
gentlemen, with their servants, went disguised to
the Ring House, near York, and leaving their
men there, proceeded to Master Beasly, in
the town, and said to him, "Beasly, do you
go with us to Mother Shipton's house." So
when they came there they knocked at the
door, and Mother Shipton, what should she
say, but "Come in, Master Beasly, and you,
honourable lords, who are with him." Master
Beasly would have put the lords to go before
him, but said Mother Shipton, who saw none
of them, she being within side, "Nay, Master
Beasly, do you come in first. You know the
way, and they do not." This they thought
strange indeed, that she should know them,
and yet never saw them. "Well, then, into
the house they went, and there was a great
fire; and she having bidden them welcome,
calling each by his own name, sent for cakes
and ale, so that they eat, drank, and were
very merry.

"Mother Shipton," said the earl, "if you
knew what we came about, you never would
have feasted us with ale."

"Nay, but," said she, "the messenger shall
not be hanged."

"Hark you, mother! " said the earl, "did
you not say that the Lord Cardinal should
never see York?"

'Yea,'' she replied, "I said he might see
York, but never come at it."

"Well," said the earl, "then you must
know that whenever he comes at York thou
shalt be burnt."

"We will see that," Mother Shipton said,
and plucking her kerchief from her head, she
threw it into the great fire, where it lay quite
still, and would not so much as singe. And
so she plucked it out, and put it on again.

Then said the earl, "What mean you by
this?"

"If this had burned, I might have burned."

"Mother Shipton," quoth then the earl,
"what think you of me?"

"My lord," said she, "the time will come
when you will be as low a creature as I am,
and that is a low one indeed."

Now this great nobleman was afterwards
beheaded.

My Lord Piercy said, "And what think you
of me?"

"My lord." said she, "shoe your horse to
the quick, and you will do well. If not, your
body shall lie under York pavement."

Now this nobleman having risen in rebellion,
by not living when he might have fled,
was taken, and executed at York, where he
was buried all but his head, which, being
stolen, was conveyed to France. And Mother
Shipton told him also, that his head was to
be stolen from his body, whereat they all
laughed,

Then my Lord Darcey said, "What think
you of me?"

"My lord," said she, "you have made a
great gun. Shoot it off, for it will do you no
good. You are going to warfare. You will
frighten many a man, but kill none."

Came not long after this the Cardinal to
Cawood; and, going to the top of the tower,
asked, "Where is York, and how far is it
thither?" And he said, moreover, "One has
prophesied that I was never to see York."—
"Nay," said one standing by, "she said you
should see York, but never come at it."
Then he vowed whenever he came at it to
come at her. After this they showed him
York from afar, and said that it was indeed
no more than eight miles thither. "Well,"
says he, "then I shall soon be there." But
the king sent for him suddenly, and he turned
back, and died upon the road to London.

And what of Master William Lilly, the
astrologer, who is our authority for this tale
of the prophetess? There is some curious
matter in his life. He was born on Mayday,
in the year one thousand six hundred and
two, in the county of Leicester: a yeoman's
son. After a little training from a country
schoolmaster, he was sent, when eleven years
old, to a school at Ashby-de-la-Zouch, and
remained there no less than seven years. At
the age of eighteen his education ceased only
because his father could not afford to let him
go to Cambridge. He was consigned, therefore,
to the friendly offices of Samuel Smuthy,
a London attorney, and came to town in the
waggon, as he says, "with twenty shillings
and no more to buy me a new suit, hose, and
doublet, and my doublet was fustian." On
Tuesday, the fourth of April, sixteen hundred
and twenty, he said good-bye to his
father, who was then in Leicester gaol, a
prisoner for debt, and placed himself under the
care of Bradshaw, the carrier. "Hark!" he
says, on the road, "how the waggons crack
with their rich lading!" Coming up by the
waggon was mainly a pedestrian exercise, so
far as the traveller himself was concerned;
and when, after five days of tramp, through
stormy weather, young Lilly reached London
(it was on Palm Sunday, at three in the
afternoon), after satisfaction given to John
Bradshaw and his servants, seven shillings
and sixpence was the amount of his remaining
capital.

He proceeded at once to the house of
Gilbert Wright, the patron to whom his
friend, Smuthy, recommended him. Mr.
Wright was a gentleman who could not write
and could not read; but he was a gentleman,
inasmuch as he followed no sort of calling.
He had been, for many years, servant to
Lady Paulet, in Hertfordshire; and when
Serjeant Puckering was made lord keeper, he