These he communicated concisely, and not without some traits of humorous satire, by which Elizabeth seemed much amused.

"And who is yonder clownish fellow ?" she said, looking at Tressilian, whose soiled dress on this occasion greatly obscured his good mien.
"A poet, if it please your Grace," replied Raleigh.
"I might have guessed that from his careless garb," said Elizabeth.
"I have known some poets so thoughtless as to throw their cloaks into gutters." "It must have been when the sun dazzled both their eyes and their judgment," answered Raleigh.
Elizabeth smiled, and proceeded, "I asked that slovenly fellow's name, and you only told me his profession." "Tressilian is his name," said Raleigh, with internal reluctance, for he foresaw nothing favourable to his friend from the manner in which she took notice of him.
"Tressilian!" answered Elizabeth.

"Oh, the Menelaus of our romance.

Why, he has dressed himself in a guise that will go far to exculpate his fair and false Helen.

And where is Farnham, or whatever his name is--my Lord of Leicester's man, I mean--the Paris of this Devonshire tale ?" With still greater reluctance Raleigh named and pointed out to her Varney, for whom the tailor had done all that art could perform in making his exterior agreeable; and who, if he had not grace, had a sort of tact and habitual knowledge of breeding, which came in place of it.
The Queen turned her eyes from the one to the other.