'
'Then I do not quite see how such stories have taught you to like
history,' said Anne.
'They teach us to realize and understand the people whom we find in
history,' said Elizabeth.
'Oh yes,' said Anne; 'who would care for Louis the eleventh if it was
not for Quentin Durward? and Shakespeare makes us feel as if we had
been at the battle of Shrewsbury.'
'Yes,' said Elizabeth; 'and they have done even more for history.
They have taught us to imagine other heroes whom they have not
mentioned. Cannot you see the Black Prince, his slight graceful
figure, his fair delicate face full of gentleness and kindness--
fierce warrior as he is--his black steel helmet, and tippet of chain-
mail, his clustering white plume, his surcoat with England's leopards
and France's lilies? Cannot you make a story of his long constant
attachment to his beautiful cousin, the Fair Maid of Kent? Cannot
you imagine his courteous conference with Bertrand du Guesclin, the
brave ugly Breton?--Edward lying almost helpless on his couch, broken
down with suffering and disappointment, and the noble affectionate
Captal de Buch, who died of grief for him, thinking whether he will
ever be able to wear his black armour again, and carry terror and
dismay to the stoutest hearts of France.
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