ill. Two died, and after an examination of the food had been made,

it was declared the yeast had been poisoned. Parliament took up the investigation, and the bishop's cook, one Richard Rowe, was found guilty. He was tried, and sentenced to be boiled alive as a terrible example to others. Boiling seems to have been a favourite punishment for poisoners during the Middle Ages, a fact which, doubtless, shows the abhorrence in which crimes of this kind were held.

It is further recorded that "On March 17th, 1524, Margaret Davy, maid, was boiled in Smithfield for poisoning three households she had dwelled in."

Among Queen Elizabeth's statesmen, poison would appear to have been regarded as almost a legitimate weapon of defence. Her favourite Leicester, to whom we have already alluded, was often called "The Poisoner." This propensity was probably largely due to the fact that most young Englishmen of rank were sent to Italy to finish their education, and there were introduced to the Italian methods of poisoning so much in vogue.

The Duc de Guise, in his memoirs, relates in a most matter-of-fact way, how he requested the captain of his guard to poniard a troublesome demagogue at Naples. The captain was shocked. He would poison any one at his Grace's command with pleasure, but the dagger was a vulgar instrument. So the duke bought some strong poison, the composition of which he describes at length, and it was duly administered. But Gennaro, the intended victim, had just eaten cabbage dressed in oil, which is said to have acted as an antidote, and so he lived after all.