man is a public benefaction; and I, in common with all your readers, (no
doubt,) feel obliged to your correspondent for his history of Charles
Brandon, Duke of Suffolk; at least, so much of it as, it would seem, was
connected with the tragedy of the Orphan. Charles Brandon was, as
history informs us, a gay, young, rattling fellow, a constant exhibitant
at all tilts and tournaments at Whitehall and elsewhere; courageous,
"wittie and of goodlie persone," in fact, a regular dandy of bygone
days, a fine gallant, and of course a great favourite of his royal
master; but, notwithstanding all this, it is not clear to me that
Charles Brandon and his brother were the romantic originals of Polydore
and Castalio. I rather think, if Otway did form his characters on any
real occurrence of the sort, the distressing event must be laid to the
noble family now proprietors of Woburn.

Perhaps the _old nobleman_ misunderstood the duchess-dowager when she
explained the picture to him; or perhaps her grace did not choose to be
_quite_ so communicate as she could have been, and, therefore, fixed the
sad event upon the gay Charley Brandon, in whose constellation of gay
doings it would, indeed, be a romantic diamond of the first water.

Every body who knows the gallery at Woburn, must remember the remarkable
picture alluded to. There is in the same apartment a very fine
whole-length of Charles Brandon; but in no way can I see is it connected
with the work which has furnished this tragic anecdote. At some distance
from Brandon's portrait appears the first Francis, _Earl of Bedford_,
with a long white beard, and furred robe, and George, pendant,--an
illustrious personage of this house, who discharged several great
offices in the reigns of Mary and Elizabeth. Such was his hospitality,
that Elizabeth used good-humouredly to say, "Go to, Frank, go to; it is
you make all the beggars." He died, aged 58, on the 28th of July, 1585,