diff options
Diffstat (limited to '5112-0.txt')
| -rw-r--r-- | 5112-0.txt | 6403 |
1 files changed, 6403 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/5112-0.txt b/5112-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..de1cdba --- /dev/null +++ b/5112-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,6403 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, Citation and Examination of William +Shakspeare, by Walter Savage Landor + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most +other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions +whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of +the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at +www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have +to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. + + + + +Title: Citation and Examination of William Shakspeare + + +Author: Walter Savage Landor + + + +Release Date: February 9, 2015 [eBook #5112] +[This file was first posted on April 30, 2002] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CITATION AND EXAMINATION OF +WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE*** + + +Transcribed from the 1891 Chatto & Windus edition by David Price, email +ccx074@pglaf.org + + + + + + CITATION AND EXAMINATION + OF + William Shakspeare + + + EUSEBY TREEN JOSEPH CARNABY AND + SILAS GOUGH CLERK + + BEFORE THE WORSHIPFUL + + SIR THOMAS LUCY KNIGHT + + TOUCHING DEER-STEELING + + _On the Nineteenth Day of September in the Year of Grace 1582_ + + NOW FIRST PUBLISHED FROM ORIGINAL PAPERS + + TO WHICH IS ADDED + + A Conference of Master Edmund Spenser + A GENTLEMAN OF NOTE + WITH + THE EARL OF ESSEX + TOUCHING THE STATE OF IRELAND A.D. 1595 + + BY + WALTER SAVAGE LANDOR + + London + CHATTO & WINDUS, PICCADILLY + 1891 + + + + +EDITOR’S PREFACE. + + + “IT was an ancestor of my husband who _brought out_ the famous + Shakspeare.” + +These words were really spoken, and were repeated in conversation as most +ridiculous. Certainly such was very far from the lady’s intention; and +who knows to what extent they are true? + +The frolic of Shakspeare in deer-stealing was the cause of his _Hegira_; +and his connection with players in London was the cause of his writing +plays. Had he remained in his native town, his ambition had never been +excited by the applause of the intellectual, the popular, and the +powerful, which, after all, was hardly sufficient to excite it. He wrote +from the same motive as he acted,—to earn his daily bread. He felt his +own powers; but he cared little for making them felt by others more than +served his wants. + +The malignant may doubt, or pretend to doubt, the authenticity of the +_Examination_ here published. Let us, who are not malignant, be cautious +of adding anything to the noisome mass of incredulity that surrounds us; +let us avoid the crying sin of our age, in which the “Memoirs of a Parish +Clerk,” edited as they were by a pious and learned dignitary of the +Established Church, are questioned in regard to their genuineness; and +even the privileges of Parliament are inadequate to cover from the +foulest imputation—the imputation of having exercised his inventive +faculties—the elegant and accomplished editor of Eugene Aram’s +apprehension, trial, and defence. + +Indeed, there is little of real history, excepting in romances. Some of +these are strictly true to nature; while histories in general give a +distorted view of her, and rarely a faithful record either of momentous +or of common events. + +Examinations taken from the mouth are surely the most trustworthy. +Whoever doubts it may be convinced by Ephraim Barnett. + +The Editor is confident he can give no offence to any person who may +happen to bear the name of Lucy. The family of Sir Thomas became extinct +nearly half a century ago, and the estates descended to the Rev. Mr. John +Hammond, of Jesus College, in Oxford, a respectable Welsh curate, between +whom and him there existed at his birth eighteen prior claimants. He +took the name of Lucy. + +The reader will form to himself, from this “Examination of Shakspeare,” +more favourable opinion of Sir Thomas than is left upon his mind by the +dramatist in the character of Justice Shallow. The knight, indeed, is +here exhibited in all his pride of birth and station, in all his pride of +theologian and poet; he is led by the nose, while he believes that nobody +can move him, and shows some other weaknesses, which the least attentive +observer will discover; but he is not without a little kindness at the +bottom of the heart,—a heart too contracted to hold much, or to let what +it holds ebulliate very freely. But, upon the whole, we neither can +utterly hate nor utterly despise him. Ungainly as he is.— + + Circum præcordia ludit. + +The author of the “Imaginary Conversations” seems, in his “Boccacio and +Petrarca,” to have taken his idea of _Sir Magnus_ from this manuscript. +He, however, has adapted that character to the times; and in _Sir Magnus_ +the coward rises to the courageous, the unskilful in arms becomes the +skilful, and war is to him a teacher of humanity. With much +superstition, theology never molests him; scholarship and poetry are no +affairs of his. He doubts of himself and others, and is as suspicious in +his ignorance as Sir Thomas is confident. + +With these wide diversities, there are family features, such as are +likely to display themselves in different times and circumstances, and +some so generically prevalent as never to lie quite dormant in the breed. +In both of them there is parsimony, there is arrogance, there is contempt +of inferiors, there is abject awe of power, there is irresolution, there +is imbecility. But Sir Magnus has no knowledge, and no respect for it. +Sir Thomas would almost go thirty miles, even to Oxford, to see a fine +specimen of it, although, like most of those who call themselves the +godly, he entertains the most undoubting belief that he is competent to +correct the errors of the wisest and most practised theologian. + + + + +EDITOR’S APOLOGY. + + +A PART only of the many deficiencies which the reader will discover in +this book is attributable to the Editor. These, however, it is his duty +to account for, and he will do it as briefly as he can. + +The _fac-similes_ (as printers’ boys call them, meaning _specimens_) of +the handwriting of nearly all the persons introduced, might perhaps have +been procured had sufficient time been allowed for another journey into +Warwickshire. That of Shakspeare is known already in the signature to +his will, but deformed by sickness; that of Sir Thomas Lucy is extant at +the bottom of a commitment of a female vagrant, for having a sucking +child in her arms on the public road; that of Silas Gough is affixed to +the register of births and marriages, during several years, in the +parishes of Hampton Lucy and Charlecote, and certifies one death,—Euseby +Treen’s; surmised, at least, to be his by the letters “E. T.” cut on a +bench seven inches thick, under an old pollard-oak outside the park +paling of Charlecote, toward the northeast. For this discovery the +Editor is indebted to a most respectable, intelligent farmer in the +adjoining parish of Wasperton, in which parish Treen’s elder brother lies +buried. The worthy farmer is unwilling to accept the large portion of +fame justly due to him for the services he has thus rendered to +literature in elucidating the history of Shakspeare and his times. In +possession of another agricultural gentleman there was recently a very +curious piece of iron, believed by many celebrated antiquaries to have +constituted a part of a knight’s breast-plate. It was purchased for two +hundred pounds by the trustees of the British Museum, among whom, the +reader will be grieved to hear, it produced dissension and coldness; +several of them being of opinion that it was merely a gorget, while +others were inclined to the belief that it was the forepart of a +horse-shoe. The Committee of Taste and the Heads of the Archæological +Society were consulted. These learned, dispassionate, and benevolent men +had the satisfaction of conciliating the parties at variance,—each having +yielded somewhat and every member signing, and affixing his seal to the +signature, that, if indeed it be the forepart of a horse-shoe, it was +probably Ismael’s,—there being a curved indentation along it, resembling +the first letter of his name, and there being no certainty or record that +he died in France, or was left in that country by Sir Magnus. + +The Editor is unable to render adequate thanks to the Rev. Stephen +Turnover for the gratification he received in his curious library by a +sight of Joseph Carnaby’s name at full length, in red ink, coming from a +trumpet in the mouth of an angel. This invaluable document is upon an +engraving in a frontispiece to the New Testament. But since unhappily he +could procure no signature of Hannah Hathaway, nor of her mother, and +only a questionable one of Mr. John Shakspeare, the poet’s father,—there +being two, in two very different hands,—both he and the publisher were of +opinion that the graphical part of the volume would be justly censured as +extremely incomplete, and that what we could give would only raise +inextinguishable regret for that which we could not. On this reflection +all have been omitted. + +The Editor is unwilling to affix any mark of disapprobation on the very +clever engraver who undertook the sorrel mare; but as in the memorable +words of that ingenious gentleman from Ireland whose polished and +elaborate epigrams raised him justly to the rank of prime minister,— + + “White was not _so very_ white,”— + +in like manner it appeared to nearly all the artists he consulted that +the sorrel mare was not _so sorrel_ in print. + +There is another and a graver reason why the Editor was induced to reject +the contribution of his friend the engraver; and this is, a neglect of +the late improvements in his art, he having, unadvisedly or +thoughtlessly, drawn in the old-fashioned manner lines at the two sides +and at the top and bottom of his print, confining it to such limits as +paintings are confined in by their frames. Our spirited engravers, it is +well-known, disdain this thraldom, and not only give unbounded space to +their scenery, but also melt their figures in the air,—so advantageously, +that, for the most part, they approach the condition of cherubs. This is +the true aërial perspective, so little understood heretofore. Trees, +castles, rivers, volcanoes, oceans, float together in absolute vacancy; +the solid earth is represented, what we know it actually is, buoyant as a +bubble, so that no wonder if every horse is endued with all the +privileges of Pegasus, save and except our sorrel. Malicious carpers, +insensible or invidious of England’s glory, deny her in this beautiful +practice the merit of invention, assigning it to the Chinese in their +tea-cups and saucers; but if not absolutely new and ours, it must be +acknowledged that we have greatly improved and extended the invention. + +Such are the reasons why the little volume here laid before the public is +defective in those decorations which the exalted state of literature +demands. Something of compensation is supplied by a Memorandum of +Ephraim Barnett, written upon the inner cover, and printed below. + +The Editor, it will be perceived, is but little practised in the ways of +literature; much less is he gifted with that prophetic spirit which can +anticipate the judgment of the public. It may be that he is too idle or +too apathetic to think anxiously or much about the matter; and yet he has +been amused, in his earlier days, at watching the first appearance of +such few books as he believed to be the production of some powerful +intellect. He has seen people slowly rise up to them, like carp in a +pond when food is thrown into it; some of which carp snatch suddenly at a +morsel, and swallow it; others touch it gently with their barb, pass +deliberately by, and leave it; others wriggle and rub against it more +disdainfully; others, in sober truth, know not what to make of it, swim +round and round it, eye it on the sunny side, eye it on the shady, +approach it, question it, shoulder it, flap it with the tail, turn it +over, look askance at it, take a pea-shell or a worm instead of it, and +plunge again their heads into the comfortable mud. After some seasons +the same food will suit their stomachs better. + + + + +EXAMINATION, +ETC., ETC. + + +ABOUT one hour before noontide the youth WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE, accused of +deer-stealing, and apprehended for that offence, was brought into the +great hall at Charlecote, where, having made his obeisance, it was most +graciously permitted him to stand. + +The worshipful Sir Thomas Lucy, Knight, seeing him right opposite, on the +farther side of the long table, and fearing no disadvantage, did frown +upon him with great dignity; then, deigning ne’er a word to the culprit, +turned he his face toward his chaplain, Sir Silas Gough, who stood beside +him, and said unto him most courteously, and unlike unto one who in his +own right commandeth,— + +“Stand out of the way! What are those two varlets bringing into the +room?” + +“The table, sir,” replied Master Silas, “upon the which the consumption +of the venison was perpetrated.” + +The youth, William Shakspeare, did thereupon pray and beseech his +lordship most fervently, in this guise:— + +“Oh, sir! do not let him turn the tables against me, who am only a simple +stripling, and he an old codger.” + +But Master Silas did bite his nether lip, and did cry aloud,— + +“Look upon those deadly spots!” + +And his worship did look thereupon most staidly, and did say in the ear +of Master Silas, but in such wise that it reached even unto mine, + +“Good honest chandlery, methinks!” + +“God grant it may turn out so!” ejaculated Master Silas. + +The youth, hearing these words, said unto him,— + +“I fear, Master Silas, gentry like you often pray God to grant what _he_ +would rather not; and now and then what _you_ would rather not.” + +Sir Silas was wroth at this rudeness of speech about God in the face of a +preacher, and said, reprovingly,— + +“Out upon thy foul mouth, knave! upon which lie slaughter and venison.” + +Whereupon did William Shakspeare sit mute awhile, and discomfited; then +turning toward Sir Thomas, and looking and speaking as one submiss and +contrite, he thus appealed unto him:— + +“Worshipful sir! were there any signs of venison on my mouth, Master +Silas could not for his life cry out upon it, nor help kissing it as +’twere a wench’s.” + +Sir Thomas looked upon him with most lordly gravity and wisdom, and said +unto him, in a voice that might have come from the bench: + +“Youth, thou speakest irreverently;” and then unto Master Silas: “Silas! +to the business on hand. Taste the fat upon yon boor’s table, which the +constable hath brought hither, good Master Silas! And declare upon oath, +being sworn in my presence, first, whether said fat do proceed of +venison; secondly, whether said venison be of buck or doe.” + +Whereupon the reverend Sir Silas did go incontinently, and did bend +forward his head, shoulders, and body, and did severally taste four white +solid substances upon an oaken board; said board being about two yards +long, and one yard four inches wide,—found in, and brought thither from, +the tenement or messuage of Andrew Haggit, who hath absconded. Of these +four white solid substances, two were somewhat larger than a groat, and +thicker; one about the size of King Henry the Eighth’s shilling, when our +late sovereign lord of blessed memory was toward the lustiest; and the +other, that is to say the middlemost, did resemble in some sort, a +mushroom, not over fresh, turned upward on its stalk. + +“And what sayest thou, Master Silas?” quoth the knight. + +In reply whereunto Sir Silas thus averred:— + + “Venison! o’ my conscience! + Buck! or burn me alive! + +The three splashes in the circumference are verily and indeed venison; +buck, moreover,—and Charlecote buck, upon my oath!” + +Then carefully tasting the protuberance in the centre, he spat it out, +crying,— + +“_Pho_! _pho_! _villain_! _villain_!” and shaking his fist at the +culprit. + +Whereat the said culprit smiled and winked, and said off-hand,— + +“Save thy spittle, Silas! It would supply a gaudy mess to the hungriest +litter; but it would turn them from whelps into wolvets. ’T is pity to +throw the best of thee away. Nothing comes out of thy mouth that is not +savoury and solid, bating thy wit, thy sermons, and thy promises.” + +It was my duty to write down the very words, irreverent as they are, +being so commanded. More of the like, it is to be feared, would have +ensued, but that Sir Thomas did check him, saying, shrewdly,— + +“Young man! I perceive that if I do not stop thee in thy courses, thy +name, being involved in thy company’s, may one day or other reach across +the county; and folks may handle it and turn it about, as it deserveth, +from Coleshill to Nuneaton, from Bromwicham to Brownsover. And who +knoweth but that, years after thy death, the very house wherein thou wert +born may be pointed at, and commented on, by knots of people, gentle and +simple! What a shame for an honest man’s son! Thanks to me, who +consider of measures to prevent it! Posterity shall laud and glorify me +for plucking thee clean out of her head, and for picking up timely a +ticklish skittle, that might overthrow with it a power of others just as +light. I will rid the hundred of thee, with God’s blessing!—nay, the +whole shire. We will have none such in our county; we justices are +agreed upon it, and we will keep our word now and forevermore. Woe +betide any that resembles thee in any part of him!” + +Whereunto Sir Silas added,— + +“We will dog him, and worry him, and haunt him, and bedevil him; and if +ever he hear a comfortable word, it shall be in a language very different +from his own.” + +“As different as thine is from a Christian’s,” said the youth. + +“Boy! thou art slow of apprehension,” said Sir Thomas, with much gravity; +and taking up the cue, did rejoin,— + +“Master Silas would impress upon thy ductile and tender mind the danger +of evil doing; that we, in other words that justice is resolved to follow +him up, even beyond his country, where he shall hear nothing better than +the Italian or the Spanish, or the black language, or the language of +Turk or Troubadour, or Tartar or Mongol. And, forsooth, for this gentle +and indirect reproof, a gentleman in priest’s orders is told by a +stripling that he lacketh Christianity! Who then shall give it?” + + WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. + +“Who, indeed? when the founder of the feast leaveth an invited guest so +empty! Yea, sir, the guest was invited, and the board was spread. The +fruits that lay upon it be there still, and fresh as ever; and the bread +of life in those capacious canisters is unconsumed and unbroken.” + + SIR SILAS (_aside_). + +“The knave maketh me hungry with his mischievous similitudes.” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“Thou hast aggravated thy offence, Wil Shakspeare! Irreverent caitiff! +is this a discourse for my chaplain and clerk? Can he or the worthy +scribe Ephraim (his worship was pleased to call me worthy) write down +such words as those, about litter and wolvets, for the perusal and +meditation of the grand jury? If the whole corporation of Stratford had +not unanimously given it against thee, still his tongue would catch thee, +as the evet catcheth a gnat. Know, sirrah, the reverend Sir Silas, +albeit ill appointed for riding, and not over-fond of it, goeth to every +house wherein is a venison feast for thirty miles round. Not a buck’s +hoof on any stable-door but it awakeneth his recollections like a red +letter.” + +This wholesome reproof did bring the youth back again to his right +senses; and then said he, with contrition, and with a wisdom beyond his +years, and little to be expected from one who had spoken just before so +unadvisedly and rashly,— + +“Well do I know it, your worship! And verily do I believe that a bone of +one being shovelled among the soil upon his coffin would forthwith +quicken {8a} him. Sooth to say, there is ne’er a buckhound in the county +but he treateth him as a godchild, patting him on the head, soothing his +velvety ear between thumb and forefinger, ejecting tick from tenement, +calling him ‘fine fellow,’ ‘noble lad,’ and giving him his blessing, as +one dearer to him than a king’s debt to a debtor, {8b} or a bastard to a +dad of eighty. This is the only kindness I ever heard of Master Silas +toward his fellow-creatures. Never hold me unjust, Sir Knight, to Master +Silas. Could I learn other good of him, I would freely say it; for we do +good by speaking it, and none is easier. Even bad men are not bad men +while they praise the just. Their first step backward is more +troublesome and wrenching to them than the first forward.” + +“In God’s name, where did he gather all this?” whispered his worship to +the chaplain, by whose side I was sitting. “Why, he talks like a man of +forty-seven, or more!” + +“I doubt his sincerity, sir!” replied the chaplain. “His words are +fairer now—” + +“Devil choke him for them!” interjected he, with an undervoice. + +“—and almost book-worthy; but out of place. What the scurvy cur yelped +against me, I forgive him as a Christian. Murrain upon such varlet +vermin! It is but of late years that dignities have come to be reviled. +The other parts of the Gospel were broken long before,—this was left us; +and now this likewise is to be kicked out of doors, amid the mutterings +of such mooncalves as him yonder.” + +“Too true, Silas!” said the knight, sighing deeply. “Things are not as +they were in our glorious wars of York and Lancaster. The knaves were +thinned then,—two or three crops a year of that rank squitch-grass which +it has become the fashion of late to call the people. There was some +difference then between buff doublets and iron mail, and the rogues felt +it. Well-a-day! we must bear what God willeth, and never repine, +although it gives a man the heart-ache. We are bound in duty to keep +these things for the closet, and to tell God of them only when we call +upon his holy name, and have him quite by ourselves.” + +Sir Silas looked discontented and impatient, and said, snappishly,— + +“Cast we off here, or we shall be at fault. Start him, sir!—prithee, +start him.” + +Again his worship, Sir Thomas, did look gravely and grandly, and taking a +scrap of paper out of the Holy Book then lying before him, did read +distinctly these words:— + +“Providence hath sent Master Silas back hither, this morning, to confound +thee in thy guilt.” + +Again, with all the courage and composure of an innocent man, and indeed +with more than what an innocent man ought to possess in the presence of a +magistrate, the youngster said, pointing toward Master Silas,— + +“The first moment he ventureth to lift up his visage from the table, hath +Providence marked him miraculously. I have heard of black malice. How +many of our words have more in them than we think of! Give a countryman +a plough of silver, and he will plough with it all the season, and never +know its substance. ’T is thus with our daily speech. What riches lie +hidden in the vulgar tongue of the poorest and most ignorant! What +flowers of Paradise lie under our feet, with their beauties and parts +undistinguished and undiscerned, from having been daily trodden on! O, +sir, look you!—but let me cover my eyes! Look at his lips! Gracious +Heaven! they were not thus when he entered. They are blacker now than +Harry Tewe’s bull-bitch’s!” + +Master Silas did lift up his eyes in astonishment and wrath; and his +worship, Sir Thomas, did open his wider and wider, and cried by fits and +starts:— + +“Gramercy! true enough! nay, afore God, too true by half! I never saw +the like! Who would believe it? I wish I were fairly rid of this +examination,—my hands washed clean thereof! Another time,—anon! We have +our quarterly sessions; we are many together. At present I remand—” + +And now, indeed, unless Sir Silas had taken his worship by the sleeve, he +would may-hap have remanded the lad. But Sir Silas, still holding the +sleeve and shaking it, said, hurriedly,— + +“Let me entreat your worship to ponder. What black does the fellow talk +of? My blood and bile rose up against the rogue; but surely I did not +turn black in the face, or in the mouth, as the fellow calls it?” + +Whether Master Silas had some suspicion and inkling of the cause or not, +he rubbed his right hand along his face and lips, and, looking upon it, +cried aloud,— + +“Ho, ho! is it off? There is some upon my finger’s end, I find. Now I +have it,—ay, there it is. That large splash upon the centre of the table +is tallow, by my salvation! The profligates sat up until the candle +burned out, and the last of it ran through the socket upon the board. We +knew it before. I did convey into my mouth both fat and smut!” + +“Many of your cloth and kidney do that, good Master Silas, and make no +wry faces about it,” quoth the youngster, with indiscreet merriment, +although short of laughter, as became him who had already stepped too far +and reached the mire. + +To save paper and time, I shall now, for the most part, write only what +they all said, not saying that they said it, and just copying out in my +clearest hand what fell respectively from their mouths. + + SIR SILAS. + +“I did indeed spit it forth, and emunge my lips, as who should not?” + + WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. + +“Would it were so!” + + SIR SILAS. + +“_Would it were so_! in thy teeth, hypocrite!” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“And, truly, I likewise do incline to hope and credit it, as thus +paraphrased and expounded.” + + WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. + +“Wait until this blessed day next year, sir, at the same hour. You shall +see it forth again at its due season; it would be no miracle if it +lasted. Spittle may cure sore eyes, but not blasted mouths and scald +consciences.” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“Why! who taught thee all this?” + +Then turned he leisurely toward Sir Silas, and placing his hand +outspreaden upon the arm of the chaplain, said unto him in a low, +judicial, hollow voice,— + +“Every word true and solemn! I have heard less wise saws from between +black covers.” + +Sir Silas was indignant at this under-rating, as he appeared to think it, +of the church and its ministry, and answered impatiently, with Christian +freedom,— + +“Your worship surely will not listen to this wild wizard in his +brothel-pulpit!” + + WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. + +“Do I live to hear Charlecote Hall called a brothel-pulpit? Alas, then, +I have lived too long!” + + SIR SILAS. + +“We will try to amend that for thee.” + +William seemed not to hear him, loudly as he spake and pointedly unto the +youngster, who wiped his eyes, crying,— + +“Commit me, sir! in mercy commit me! Master Ephraim! Oh, Master +Ephraim! A guiltless man may feel all the pangs of the guilty! Is it +you who are to make out the commitment? Dispatch! dispatch. I am +a-weary of my life. If I dared to lie, I would plead guilty.” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“Heyday! No wonder, Master Ephraim, thy entrails are moved and wamble. +Dost weep, lad? Nay, nay; thou bearest up bravely. Silas, I now find, +although the example come before me from humble life, that what my mother +said was true—’t was upon my father’s demise—‘In great grief there are +few tears.’” + +Upon which did the youth, Willy Shakspeare, jog himself by the memory, +and repeat these short verses, not wide from the same purport: + + “There are, alas, some depths of woe + Too vast for tears to overflow.” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“Let those who are sadly vexed in spirit mind that notion, whoever +indited it, and be men. I always was; but some little griefs have +pinched me woundily.” + +Master Silas grew impatient, for he had ridden hard that morning, and had +no cushion upon his seat, as Sir Thomas had. I have seen in my time that +he who is seated on beech-wood hath very different thoughts and +moralities from him who is seated on goose-feathers under doe-skin. But +that is neither here nor there, albeit, an’ I die, as I must, my heirs, +Judith and her boy Elijah, may note it. + +Master Silas, as above, looked sourishly, and cried aloud,— + +“The witnesses! the witnesses! testimony! testimony! We shall now see +whose black goes deepest. There is a fork to be had that can hold the +slipperiest eel, and a finger that can strip the slimiest. I cry your +worship to the witnesses.” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“Ay, indeed, we are losing the day; it wastes toward noon, and nothing +done. Call the witnesses. How are they called by name? Give me the +paper.” + +The paper being forthwith delivered into his worship’s hand by the +learned clerk, his worship did read aloud the name of Euseby Treen. +Whereupon did Euseby Treen come forth through the great hall-door which +was ajar, and answer most audibly,— + +“Your worship!” + +Straightway did Sir Thomas read aloud, in like form and manner, the name +of Joseph Carnaby; and in like manner as aforesaid did Joseph Carnaby +make answer and say,— + +“Your worship!” + +Lastly did Sir Thomas turn the light of his countenance on William +Shakspeare, saying,— + +“Thou seest these good men deponents against thee, William Shakspeare.” +And then did Sir Thomas pause. And pending this pause did William +Shakspeare look steadfastly in the faces of both; and stroking down his +own with the hollow of his hand from the jaw-bone to the chin-point, said +unto his honour,— + +“Faith! it would give me much pleasure, and the neighbourhood much +vantage, to see these two fellows good men. Joseph Carnaby and Euseby +Treen! Why! your worship! they know every hare’s form in +Luddington-field better than their own beds, and as well pretty nigh as +any wench’s in the parish.” + +Then turned he with jocular scoff unto Joseph Carnaby, thus accosting +him, whom his shirt, being made stiffer than usual for the occasion, +rubbed and frayed,— + +“Ay, Joseph! smoothen and soothe thy collar-piece again and again! Hark +ye! I know what smock that was knavishly cut from.” + +Master Silas rose up in high choler, and said unto Sir Thomas,— + +“Sir! do not listen to that lewd reviler; I wager ten groats I prove him +to be wrong in his scent. Joseph Carnaby is righteous and discreet.” + + WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. + +“By daylight and before the parson. Bears and boars are tame creatures, +and discreet, in the sunshine and after dinner.” + + EUSEBY TREEN. + +“I do know his down-goings and uprisings.” + + WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. + +“The man and his wife are one, saith holy Scripture.” + + EUSEBY TREEN. + +“A sober-paced and rigid man, if such there be. Few keep Lent like unto +him.” + + WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. + +“I warrant him, both lent and stolen.” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“Peace and silence! Now, Joseph Carnaby, do thou depose on particulars.” + + JOSEPH CARNABY. + +“May it please your worship! I was returning from Hampton upon +Allhallowmas eve, between the hours of ten and eleven at night, in +company with Master Euseby Treen; and when we came to the bottom of +Mickle Meadow, we heard several men in discourse. I plucked Euseby Treen +by the doublet, and whispered in his ear, ‘Euseby! Euseby! let us slink +along in the shadow of the elms and willows.’” + + EUSEBY TREEN. + +“_Willows and elm-trees_ were the words.” + + WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. + +“See, your worship! what discordances! They cannot agree in their own +story.” + + SIR SILAS. + +“The same thing, the same thing, in the main.” + + WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. + +“By less differences than this estates have been lost, hearts broken, and +England, our country, filled with homeless, helpless, destitute orphans. +I protest against it.” + + SIR SILAS. + +“Protest, indeed! He talks as if he were a member of the House of Lords. +They alone can protest.” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“Your attorney may _object_, not _protest_, before the lord judge. + +“Proceed you, Joseph Carnaby.” + + JOSEPH CARNABY. + +“In the shadow of the willows and elm-trees, then—” + + WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. + +“No hints, no conspiracies! Keep to your own story, man, and do not +borrow his.” + + SIR SILAS. + +“I overrule the objection. Nothing can be more futile and frivolous.” + + WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. + +“So learned a magistrate as your worship will surely do me justice by +hearing me attentively. I am young; nevertheless, having more than one +year written in the office of an attorney, and having heard and listened +to many discourses and questions on law, I cannot but remember the heavy +fine inflicted on a gentleman of this county who committed a poor man to +prison for being in possession of a hare, it being proved that the hare +was in his possession, and not he in the hare’s.” + + SIR SILAS. + +“Synonymous term! synonymous term!” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“In what term sayest thou was it? I do not remember the case.” + + SIR SILAS. + +“Mere quibble mere equivocation! Jesuitical! Jesuitical!” + + WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. + +“It would be Jesuitical, Sir Silas, if it dragged the law by its +perversions to the side of oppression and cruelty. The order of Jesuits, +I fear, is as numerous as its tenets are lax and comprehensive. I am +sorry to see their frocks flounced with English serge.” + + SIR SILAS. + +“I don’t understand thee, viper!” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“Cease thou, Will Shakspeare! Know thy place. And do thou, Joseph +Carnaby, take up again the thread of thy testimony.” + + JOSEPH CARNABY. + +“We were still at some distance from the party, when on a sudden Euseby +hung an —” {21a} + + SIR THOMAS. + +“As well write _drew back_, Master Ephraim and Master Silas! Be +circumspecter in speech, Master Joseph Carnaby! I did not look for such +rude phrases from that starch-warehouse under thy chin. Continue, man!” + + JOSEPH CARNABY. + +“‘Euseby,’ said I in his ear, ‘what ails thee, Euseby?’ ‘I wag no +farther,’ quoth he. ‘What a number of names and voices!’” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“Dreadful gang! a number of names and voices! Had it been any other day +in the year but Allhallowmas eve! To steal a buck upon such a day! +Well! God may pardon even that. Go on, go on. But the laws of our +country must have their satisfaction and atonement. Were it upon any +other day in the calendar less holy, the buck were nothing, or next to +nothing, saving the law and our conscience and our good report. Yet we, +her Majesty’s justices, must stand in the gap, body and soul, against +evil-doers. Now do thou, in furtherance of this business, give thine aid +unto us, Joseph Carnaby!—remembering that mine eye from this +judgment-seat, and her Majesty’s bright and glorious one overlooking the +whole realm, and the broader of God above, are upon thee.” + +Carnaby did quail a matter at these words about the judgment-seat and the +broad eye, aptly and gravely delivered by him moreover who hath to +administer truth and righteousness in our ancient and venerable laws, and +especially, at the present juncture, in those against park-breaking and +deer-stealing. But finally, nought discomfited, and putting his hand +valiantly atwixt hip and midriff, so that his elbow well-nigh touched the +taller pen in the ink-pot, he went on. + + JOSEPH CARNABY. + +“‘_In the shadow of the willows and elm-trees_,’ said he, ‘_and get +nearer_.’ We were still at some distance, maybe a score of furlongs, +from the party—” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“Thou hast said it already—all save the score of furlongs.” + +“Hast room for them, Master Silas?” + +“Yea,” quoth Master Silas, “and would make room for fifty, to let the +fellow swing at his ease.” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“Hast room, Master Ephraim?” + +“’T is done, most worshipful!” said I. The learned knight did not +recollect that I could put fifty furlongs in a needle’s eye, give me pen +fine enough. + +But far be it from me to vaunt of my penmanship, although there be those +who do malign it, even in my own township and parish; yet they never have +unperched me from my calling, and have had hard work to take an idle +wench or two from under me on Saturday nights. + +I memorize thus much, not out of any malice or any soreness about me, but +that those of my kindred into whose hands it please God these papers do +fall hereafter, may bear up stoutly in such straits; and if they be good +at the cudgel, that they, looking first at their man, do give it him +heartily and unsparingly, keeping within law. + +Sir Thomas, having overlooked what we had written, and meditated a while +thereupon, said unto Joseph,— + +“It appeareth by thy testimony that there was a huge and desperate gang +of them afoot. Revengeful dogs! it is difficult to deal with them. The +laws forbid precipitancy and violence. A dozen or two may return and +harm me; not me, indeed, but my tenants and servants. I would fain act +with prudence, and like unto him who looketh abroad. He must tie his +shoe tightly who passeth through mire; he must step softly who steppeth +over stones; he must walk in the fear of the Lord (which, without a brag, +I do at this present feel upon me), who hopeth to reach the end of the +straightest road in safety.” + + SIR SILAS. + +“Tut, tut! your worship! Her Majesty’s deputy hath matchlocks and +halters at a knight’s disposal, or the world were topsyturvy indeed.” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“My mental ejaculations, and an influx of grace thereupon, have shaken +and washed from my brain all thy last words, good Joseph! Thy companion +here, Euseby Treen, said unto thee—ay—” + + JOSEPH CARNABY. + +“Said unto me, ‘What a number of names and voices! And there be but +three living men in all! And look again! Christ deliver us! all the +shadows save one go leftward; that one lieth right upon the river. It +seemeth a big, squat monster, shaking a little, as one ready to spring +upon its prey!’” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“A dead man in his last agonies, no doubt! Your deer-stealer doth boggle +at nothing. He hath alway the knife in doublet and the devil at elbow. + +“I wot not of any keeper killed or missing. To lose one’s deer and +keeper too were overmuch. + +“Do, in God’s merciful name, hand unto me a glass of sack, Master Silas! +I wax faintish at the big, squat man. He hath harmed not only me, but +mine. Furthermore, the examination is grown so long.” + +Then was the wine delivered by Sir Silas into the hand of his worship, +who drank it off in a beaker of about half a pint,—but little to his +satisfaction, for he said shortly afterward,— + +“Hast thou poured no water into the sack, good Master Silas? It seemeth +weaker and washier than ordinary, and affordeth small comfort unto the +breast and stomach.” + +“Not I, truly, sir,” replied Master Silas “and the bottle is a fresh and +sound one. The cork reported on drawing, as the best diver doth on +sousing from Warwick bridge into Avon. A rare cork! as bright as the +glass bottle, and as smooth as the lips of any cow.” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“My mouth is out of taste this morning; or the same wine, mayhap, hath a +different force and flavor in the dining-room and among friends. But to +business—what more?” + +“Euseby Treen, what may it be?” said I. + +“I know,” quoth he, “but dare not breathe it.” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“I thought I had taken a glass of wine, verily. Attention to my duty as +a magistrate is paramount. I mind nothing else when that lies before me. + +“Carnaby! I credit thy honesty, but doubt thy manhood. Why not breathe +it, with a vengeance?” + + JOSEPH CARNABY. + +“It was Euseby who dared not.” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“Stand still! Say nothing yet; mind my orders. Fair and softly! compose +thyself.” + +They all stood silent for some time, and looked very composed, awaiting +the commands of the knight. His mind was clearly in such a state of +devotion that peradventure he might not have descended for a while longer +to his mundane duties, had not Master Silas told him that, under the +shadow of his wing, their courage had returned and they were quite +composed again. + +“You may proceed,” said the knight. + + JOSEPH CARNABY. + +“Master Treen did take off his cap and wipe his forehead. I, for the +sake of comforting him in this his heaviness, placed my hand upon his +crown; and truly I might have taken it for a tuft of bents, the hair on +end, the skin immovable as God’s earth!” + +Sir Thomas, hearing these words, lifted up his hands above his own head, +and in the loudest voice he had yet uttered did he cry,— + +“Wonderful are thy ways in Israel, O Lord!” + +So saying, the pious knight did strike his knee with the palm of his +right hand; and then gave he a sign, bowing his head and closing his +eyes, by which Master Carnaby did think he signified his pleasure that he +should go on deposing. And he went on thus:— + + JOSEPH CARNABY. + +“At this moment one of the accomplices cried, ‘Willy! Willy! prithee +stop! enough in all conscience! First thou divertedst us from our +undertaking with thy strange vagaries, thy Italian girls’ nursery sigh, +thy Pucks and pinchings, and thy Windsor whimsies. No kitten upon a bed +of marum ever played such antics. It was summer and winter, night and +day with us within the hour; and in such religion did we think and feel +it, we would have broken the man’s jaw who gainsaid it. We have slept +with thee under the oaks in the ancient forest of Arden, and we have +wakened from our sleep in the tempest far at sea. {29a} Now art thou for +frightening us again out of all the senses thou hadst given us, with +witches and women more murderous than they.’ + +“Then followed a deeper voice: ‘Stouter men and more resolute are few; +but thou, my lad, hast words too weighty for flesh and bones to bear up +against. And who knows but these creatures may pop amongst us at last, +as the wolf did, sure enough, upon him, the noisy rogue, who so long had +been crying _wolf_! and _wolf_!’” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“Well spoken, for two thieves; albeit I miss the meaning of the most +part. Did they prevail with the scapegrace and stop him?” + + JOSEPH CARNABY. + +“The last who had spoken did slap him on the shoulder, saying, ‘Jump into +the punt, lad, and across.’ Thereupon did Will Shakspeare jump into said +punt, and begin to sing a song about a mermaid.” + + WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. + +“Sir! is this credible? I will be sworn I never saw one; and verily do +believe that scarcely one in a hundred years doth venture so far up the +Avon.” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“There is something in this. Thou mayest have sung about one, +nevertheless. Young poets take great liberties with all female kind; not +that mermaids are such very unlawful game for them, and there be songs +even about worse and staler fish. Mind ye that! Thou hast written +songs, and hast sung them, and lewd enough they be, God wot!” + + WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. + +“Pardon me, your worship! they were not mine then. Peradventure the song +about the mermaid may have been that ancient one which every boy in most +parishes has been singing for many years, and, perhaps, his father before +him; and somebody was singing it then, mayhap, to keep up his courage in +the night.” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“I never heard it.” + + WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. + +“Nobody would dare to sing in the presence of your worship, unless +commanded,—not even the mermaid herself.” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“Canst thou sing it?” + + WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. + +“Verily, I can sing nothing.” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“Canst thou repeat it from memory?” + + WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. + +“It is so long since I have thought about it, that I may fail in the +attempt.” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“Try, however.” + + WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. + + “‘The mermaid sat upon the rocks + All day long, + Admiring her beauty and combing her locks, + And singing a mermaid song.’” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“What was it? what was it? I thought as much. There thou standest, like +a woodpecker, chattering and chattering, breaking the bark with thy beak, +and leaving the grub where it was. This is enough to put a saint out of +patience.” + + WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. + +“The wishes of your worship possess a mysterious influence,—I now +remember all. + + “‘And hear the mermaid’s song you may, + As sure as sure can be, + If you will but follow the sun all day, + And souse with him into the sea.’” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“It must be an idle fellow who would take that trouble; besides, unless +he nicked the time he might miss the monster. There be many who are slow +to believe that the mermaid singeth.” + + WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. + +“Ah sir! not only the mermaid singeth, but the merman sweareth, as +another old song will convince you.” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“I would fain be convinced of God’s wonders in the great deeps, and would +lean upon the weakest reed like unto thee to manifest his glory. Thou +mayest convince me.” + + WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. + + 1. + + “‘A wonderful story, my lasses and lads, + Peradventure you’ve heard from your grannams or dads, + Of a merman that came every night to woo + The spinster of spinsters, our Catherine Crewe. + + 2. + + “‘But Catherine Crewe + Is now seventy-two, + And avers she hath half forgotten + The truth of the tale, when you ask her about it, + And says, as if fain to deny it or flout it, + “_Pooh_! _the merman is dead and rotten_.” + + 3. + + “‘The merman came up as the mermen are wont, + To the top of the water, and then swam upon ’t; + And Catherine saw him with both her two eyes, + A lusty young merman full six feet in size. + + 4. + + “‘And Catherine was frighten’d, + Her scalp-skin it tighten’d, + And her head it swam strangely, although on dry land; + And the merman made bold + Eftsoons to lay hold + (_This_ Catherine well recollects) of her hand. + + 5. + + “‘But how could a merman, if ever so good, + Or if ever so clever, be well understood + By a simple young creature of our flesh and blood? + + 6. + + “‘Some tell us the merman + Can only speak German, + In a voice between grunting and snoring; + But Catherine says he had learned in the wars + The language, persuasions, and oaths of our tars, + And that even his voice was not foreign. + + 7. + + “‘Yet when she was asked how he managed to hide + The green fishy tail, coming out of the tide + For night after night above twenty, + “You troublesome creatures!” old Catherine replied, + “_In his pocket_; won’t that now content ye?”’” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“I have my doubts yet. I should have said unto her, seriously, ‘Kate! +Kate! I am not convinced.’ There may be witchcraft or sortilege in it. +I would have made it a star-chamber matter.” + + WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. + +“It was one, sir.” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“And now I am reminded by this silly, childish song,—which, after all, is +not the true mermaid’s,—thou didst tell me, Silas, that the papers found +in the lad’s pocket were intended for poetry.” + + SIR SILAS. + +“I wish he had missed his aim, sir, in your park, as he hath missed it in +his poetry. The papers are not worth reading; they do not go against him +in the point at issue.” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“We must see that,—they being taken upon his person when apprehended.” + + SIR SILAS. + +“Let Ephraim read them, then; it behooveth not me, a Master of Arts, to +con a whelp’s whining.” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“Do thou read them aloud unto us, good Master Ephraim.” + +Whereupon I took the papers which young Willy had not bestowed much pains +on; and they posed and puzzled me grievously, for they were blotted and +scrawled in many places, as if somebody had put him out. These likewise +I thought fit, after long consideration, to write better, and preserve, +great as the loss of time is when men of business take in hand such +unseemly matters. However, they are decenter than most, and not without +their moral; for example:— + + “TO THE OWLET. + + “Who, O thou sapient, saintly bird! + Thy shouted warnings ever heard + Unbleached by fear? + The blue-faced blubbering imp, who steals + Yon turnips, thinks thee at his heels, + Afar or near. + + “The brawnier churl, who brags at times + To front and top the rankest crimes,— + To paunch a deer, + Quarter a priest, or squeeze a wench,— + Scuds from thee, clammy as a tench, + He knows not where. + + “For this the righteous Lord of all + Consigns to thee the castle-wall, + When, many a year, + Closed in the chancel-vaults, are eyes + Rainy or sunny at the sighs + Of knight or peer.” + +Sir Thomas, when I had ended, said unto me, + +“No harm herein; but are they over?” + +I replied, “Yea, sir!” + +“I miss the _posy_,” quoth he; “there is usually a lump of sugar, or a +smack thereof at the bottom of the glass. They who are inexperienced in +poetry do write it as boys do their copies in the copy-book, without a +flourish at the finis. It is only the master who can do this +befittingly.” + +I bowed unto his worship reverentially, thinking of a surety he meant me, +and returned my best thanks in set language. But his worship rebuffed +them, and told me graciously that he had an eye on another of very +different quality; that the plain sense of his discourse might do for me, +the subtler was certainly for himself. He added that in his younger days +he had heard from a person of great parts, and had since profited by it, +that ordinary poets are like adders,—the tail blunt and the body rough, +and the whole reptile cold-blooded and sluggish: “whereas we,” he +subjoined, “leap and caracole and curvet, and are as warm as velvet, and +as sleek as satin, and as perfumed as a Naples fan, in every part of us; +and the end of our poems is as pointed as a perch’s back-fin, and it +requires as much nicety to pick it up as a needle{38a} at nine groats the +hundred.” + +Then turning toward the culprit, he said mildly unto him,— + +“Now why canst thou not apply thyself unto study? Why canst thou not ask +advice of thy superiors in rank and wisdom? In a few years, under good +discipline, thou mightest rise from the owlet unto the peacock. I know +not what pleasant things might not come into the youthful head thereupon. + +“He was the bird of Venus, {39b} goddess of beauty. He flew down (I +speak as a poet, and not in my quality of knight and Christian) with half +the stars of heaven upon his tail; and his long, blue neck doth verily +appear a dainty slice out of the solid sky.” + +Sir Silas smote me with his elbow, and said in my ear,— + +“He wanteth not this stuffing; he beats a pheasant out of the kitchen, to +my mind, take him only at the pheasant’s size, and don’t (upon your life) +overdo him. + +“Never be cast down in spirit, nor take it too ‘grievously to heart, if +the colour be a suspicion of the pinkish,—no sign of rawness in that; +none whatever. It is as becoming to him as to the salmon; it is as +natural to your pea-chick in his best cookery, as it is to the finest +October morning,—moist underfoot, when partridge’s and puss’s and +renard’s scent lies sweetly.” + +Willie Shakspeare, in the mean time, lifted up his hands above his ears +half a cubit, and taking breath again, said, audibly, although he willed +it to be said unto himself alone,— + +“O that knights could deign to be our teachers! Methinks I should +briefly spring up into heaven, through the very chink out of which the +peacock took his neck.” + +Master Silas, who like myself and the worshipful knight, did overhear +him, said angrily,— + +“To spring up into heaven, my lad, it would be as well to have at least +one foot upon the ground to make the spring withal. I doubt whether we +shall leave thee this vantage.” + +“Nay, nay! thou art hard upon him, Silas,” said the knight. + +I was turning over the other papers taken from the pocket of the culprit +on his apprehension, and had fixed my eyes on one, when Sir Thomas caught +them thus occupied, and exclaimed,— + +“Mercy upon us! have we more?” + +“Your patience, worshipful sir!” said I; “must I forward?” + +“Yea, yea,” quoth he, resignedly, “we must go through; we are pilgrims in +this life.” + +Then did I read, in a clear voice, the contents of paper the second, +being as followeth:— + + “THE MAID’S LAMENT. + + “I loved him not; and yet, now he is gone, + I feel I am alone. + I check’d him while he spoke; yet, could he speak, + Alas! I would not check. + For reasons not to love him once I sought, + And wearied all my thought + To vex myself and him: I now would give + My love could he but live + Who lately lived for me, and when he found + ’T was vain, in holy ground + He hid his face amid the shades of death! + I waste for him my breath + Who wasted his for me! but mine returns, + And this loin bosom burns + With stifling heat, heaving it up in sleep, + And waking me to weep + Tears that had melted his soft heart. For years + Wept he as bitter tears! + _Merciful God_! such was his latest prayer, + _These may she never share_! + Quieter is his breath, his breast more cold, + Than daisies in the mould, + Where children spell, athwart the churchyard gate, + His name and life’s brief date. + Pray for him, gentle souls, whoe’er you be, + And, oh! pray too for me!” + +Sir Thomas had fallen into a most comfortable and refreshing slumber ere +this lecture was concluded; but the pause broke it, as there be many who +experience after the evening service in our parish-church. Howbeit, he +had presently all his wits about him, and remembered well that he had +been carefully counting the syllables, about the time when I had pierced +as far as into the middle. + +“Young man,” said he to Willy, “thou givest short measure in every other +sack of the load. Thy uppermost stake is of right length; the undermost +falleth off, methinks. + +“Master Ephraim, canst thou count syllables? I mean no offence. I may +have counted wrongfully myself, not being born nor educated for an +accountant.” + +At such order I did count; and truly the suspicion was as just as if he +had neither been a knight nor a sleeper. + +“Sad stuff! sad stuff, indeed!” said Master Silas, “and smelling of +popery and wax-candles.” + +“Ay?” said Sir Thomas, “I must sift that.” + +“If praying for the dead is not popery,” said Master Silas, “I know not +what the devil is. Let them pray for us; they may know whether it will +do us any good. We need not pray for them; we cannot tell whether it +will do them any. I call this sound divinity.” + +“Are our churchmen all agreed thereupon?” asked Sir Thomas. + +“The wisest are,” replied Master Silas. + +“There are some lank rascals who will never agree upon anything but upon +doubting. I would not give ninepence for the best gown upon the most +thrifty of ’em; and their fingers are as stiff and hard with their +pedlary, knavish writing, as any bishop’s are with chalk-stones won +honestly from the gout.” + +Sir Thomas took the paper up from the table on which I had laid it, and +said after a while,— + +“The man may only have swooned. I scorn to play the critic, or to ask +any one the meaning of a word; but, sirrah!” + +Here he turned in his chair from the side of Master Silas, and said unto +Willy,— + +“William Shakspeare! out of this thraldom in regard to popery, I hope, by +God’s blessing, to deliver thee. If ever thou repeatest the said verses, +knowing the man to be to all intents and purposes a dead man, prythee +read the censurable line as thus corrected,— + + ‘Pray for our Virgin Queen, gentles! whoe’er you be.’ + +although it is not quite the thing that another should impinge so closely +on her skirts. + +“By this improvement, of me suggested, thou mayest make some amends—a +syllable or two—for the many that are weighed in the balance and are +found wanting.” + +Then turning unto me, as being conversant by my profession in such +matters, and the same being not very worthy of learned and staid clerks +the like of Master Silas, he said,— + +“Of all the youths that did ever write in verse, this one verily is he +who hath the fewest flowers and devices. But it would be loss of time to +form a border, in the fashion of a kingly crown, or a dragon, or a Turk +on horseback, out of buttercups and dandelions. + +“Master Ephraim! look at these badgers! with a long leg on one quarter +and a short leg on the other. The wench herself might well and truly +have said all that matter without the poet, bating the rhymes and metre. +Among the girls in the country there are many such _shilly-shallys_, who +give themselves sore eyes and sharp eye-water; I would cure them rod in +hand.” + +Whereupon did William Shakspeare say, with great humility,— + +“So would I, may it please your worship, an they would let me.” + +“Incorrigible sluts! Out upon ’em! and thou art no better than they +are,” quoth the knight. + +Master Silas cried aloud, “No better, marry! they at the worst are but +carted and whipped for the edification of the market-folks. {44a} Not a +squire or parson in the country round but comes in his best to see a man +hanged.” + +“The edification then is higher by a deal,” said William, very +composedly. + +“Troth! is it,” replied Master Silas. “The most poisonous reptile has +the richest jewel in his head; thou shalt share the richest gift bestowed +upon royalty, and shalt cure the king’s evil.” {45a} + +“It is more tractable, then, than the church’s,” quoth William; and, +turning his face toward the chair, he made an obeisance to Sir Thomas, +saying,— + +“Sir! the more submissive my behaviour is, the more vehement and +boisterous is Master Silas. My gentlest words serve only to carry him +toward the contrary quarter, as the south wind bloweth a ship northward.” + +“Youth,” said Sir Thomas, smiling most benignly, “I find, and well indeed +might I have surmised, thy utter ignorance of winds, equinoxes, and +tides. Consider now a little! With what propriety can a wind be called +a south wind if it bloweth a vessel to the north? Would it be a south +wind that blew it from this hall into Warwick market-place?” + +“It would be a strong one,” said Master Silas unto me, pointing his +remark, as witty men are wont, with the elbow-pan. + +But Sir Thomas, who waited for an answer, and received none, continued,— + +“Would a man be called a good man who tended and pushed on toward evil?” + + WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. + +“I stand corrected. I could sail to Cathay or Tartary {46a} with half +the nautical knowledge I have acquired in this glorious hall. + +“The devil impelling a mortal to wrong courses, is thereby known to be +the devil. He, on the contrary, who exciteth to good is no devil, but an +angel of light, or under the guidance of one. The devil driveth unto his +own home; so doth the south wind, so doth the north wind. + +“Alas! alas! we possess not the mastery over our own weak minds when a +higher spirit standeth nigh and draweth us within his influence.” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“Those thy words are well enough,—very well, very good, wise, discreet, +judicious beyond thy years. But then that _sailing_ comes in an awkward, +ugly way across me,—that _Cathay_, that _Tartarus_! + +“Have a care! Do thou nothing rashly. Mind! an thou stealest my punt +for the purpose, I send the constable after thee or e’er thou art half +way over.” + + WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. + +“He would make a stock-fish of me an he caught me. It is hard sailing +out of his straits, although they be carefully laid down in most +parishes, and may have taken them from actual survey.” + + SIR SILAS. + +“Sir, we have bestowed on him already well-nigh a good hour of our time.” + +Sir Thomas, who was always fond of giving admonition and reproof to the +ignorant and erring, and who had found the seeds (little mustard-seeds, +’t is true, and never likely to arise into the great mustard-tree of the +Gospel) in the poor lad Willy, did let his heart soften a whit tenderer +and kindlier than Master Silas did, and said unto Master Silas,— + +“A good hour of our time! Yea, Silas! and thou wouldst give _him_ +eternity!” + +“What, sir! would you let him go?” said Master Silas. “Presently we +shall have neither deer nor dog, neither hare nor coney, neither swan nor +heron; every carp from pool, every bream from brook, will be groped for. +The marble monuments in the church will no longer protect the leaden +coffins; and if there be any ring of gold on the finger of knight or +dame, it will be torn away with as little ruth and ceremony as the ring +from a butchered sow’s snout.” + +“Awful words! Master Silas,” quoth the knight, musing; “but thou +mistakest my intentions. I let him not go; howbeit, at worst I would +only mark him in the ear, and turn him up again after this warning, +peradventure with a few stripes to boot athwart the shoulders, in order +to make them shrug a little, and shake off the burden of idleness.” + +Now I, having seen, I dare not say the innocence, but the innocent and +simple manner of Willy, and pitying his tender years, and having an +inkling that he was a lad, poor Willy! whom God had endowed with some +parts, and into whose breast he had instilled that milk of +loving-kindness by which alone we can be like unto those little children +of whom is the household and kingdom of our Lord,—I was moved, yea, even +unto tears. And now, to bring gentler thoughts into the hearts of Master +Silas and Sir Thomas, who, in his wisdom, deemed it a light punishment to +slit an ear or two, or inflict a wiry scourging, I did remind his worship +that another paper was yet unread, at least to them, although I had been +perusing it. + +This was much pleasanter than the two former, and overflowing with the +praises of the worthy knight and his gracious lady; and having an echo to +it in another voice, I did hope thereby to disarm their just wrath and +indignation. It was thus couched:— + + “FIRST SHEPHERD. + + “Jesu! what lofty elms are here! + Let me look through them at the clear, + Deep sky above, and bless my star + That such a worthy knight’s they are! + + “SECOND SHEPHERD. + + “Innocent creatures! how those deer + Trot merrily, and romp and rear! + + “FIRST SHEPHERD. + + “The glorious knight who walks beside + His most majestic lady bride, + + “SECOND SHEPHERD. + + “Under these branches spreading wide, + + “FIRST SHEPHERD. + + “Carries about so many cares + Touching his ancestors and heirs, + That came from Athens and from Rome— + + “SECOND SHEPHERD. + + “As many of them as are come— + + “FIRST SHEPHERD. + + “Nought else the smallest lodge can find + In the vast manors of his mind; + Envying not Solomon his wit— + + “SECOND SHEPHERD. + + “No, nor his women not a bit; + Being well-built and well-behavèd + As Solomon, I trow, or David. + + “FIRST SHEPHERD. + + “And taking by his jewell’d hand + The jewel of that lady bland, + He sees the tossing antlers pass + And throw quaint shadows o’er the grass; + While she alike the hour beguiles, + And looks at him and them, and smiles. + + “SECOND SHEPHERD. + + “With conscience proof ’gainst Satan’s shock, + Albeit finer than her smock, {50a} + Marry! her smiles are not of vanity, + But resting on sound Christianity. + Faith, you would swear, had nail’d {50b} her ears on + The book and cushion of the parson.” + +“Methinks the rhyme at the latter end might be bettered,” said Sir +Thomas. “The remainder is indited not unaptly. But, young man, never +having obtained the permission of my honourable dame to praise her in +guise of poetry, I cannot see all the merit I would fain discern in the +verses. She ought first to have been sounded; and it being certified +that she disapproved not her glorification, then might it be trumpeted +forth into the world below.” + +“Most worshipful knight,” replied the youngster, “I never could take it +in hand to sound a dame of quality,—they are all of them too deep and too +practised for me, and have better and abler men about ’em. And surely I +did imagine to myself that if it were asked of any honourable man +(omitting to speak of ladies) whether he would give permission to be +openly praised, he would reject the application as a gross offence. It +appeareth to me that even to praise one’s self, although it be shameful, +is less shameful than to throw a burning coal into the incense-box that +another doth hold to waft before us, and then to snift and simper over +it, with maidenly, wishful coyness, as if forsooth one had no hand in +setting it asmoke.” + +Then did Sir Thomas, in his zeal to instruct the ignorant, and so make +the lowly hold up their heads, say unto him,— + +“Nay, but all the great do thus. Thou must not praise them without leave +and license. Praise unpermitted is plebeian praise. It is presumption +to suppose that thou knowest enough of the noble and the great to +discover their high qualities. They alone could manifest them unto thee. +It requireth much discernment and much time to enucleate and bring into +light their abstruse wisdom and gravely featured virtues. Those of +ordinary men lie before thee in thy daily walks; thou mayest know them by +converse at their tables, as thou knowest the little tame squirrel that +chippeth his nuts in the open sunshine of a bowling-green. But beware +how thou enterest the awful arbours of the great, who conceal their +magnanimity in the depths of their hearts, as lions do.” + +He then paused; and observing the youth in deep and earnest meditation +over the fruits of his experience, as one who tasted and who would fain +digest them; he gave him encouragement, and relieved the weight of his +musings by kind interrogation. + +“So, then, these verses are thine own?” The youth answered,— + +“Sir, I must confess my fault.” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“And who was the shepherd written here _Second Shepherd_, that had the +ill manners to interrupt thee? Methinks, in helping thee to mount the +saddle, he pretty nigh tossed thee over, {53a} with his jerks and +quirks.” + +Without waiting for any answer, his worship continued his interrogations. + +“But do you woolstaplers call yourselves by the style and title of +shepherds?” + + WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. + +“Verily, sir, do we; and I trust by right. The last owner of any place +is called the master more properly than the dead and gone who once held +it. If that be true (and who doubts it?) we, who have the last of the +sheep, namely, the wool and skin, and who buy all of all the flock, +surely may more properly be called shepherds than those idle vagrants who +tend them only for a season, selling a score or purchasing a score, as +may happen.” + +Here Sir Thomas did pause a while, and then said unto Master Silas,— + +“My own cogitations, and not this stripling, have induced me to consider +and to conclude a weighty matter for knightly scholarship. I never could +rightly understand before how Colin Clout, and sundry others calling +themselves shepherds, should argue like doctors in law, physic, and +divinity. + +“Silas! they were woolstaplers; and they must have exercised their wits +in dealing with tithe-proctors and parsons, and moreover with fellows of +colleges from our two learned universities, who have sundry lands held +under them, as thou knowest, and take the small tithes in kind. Colin +Clout, methinks, from his extensive learning, might have acquired enough +interest with the Queen’s Highness to change his name for the better, +and, furthermore, her royal license to carry armorial bearings, in no +peril of taint from so unsavoury an appellation.” + +Master Silas did interrupt this discourse, by saying,— + +“May it please your worship, the constable is waiting.” + +Whereat Sir Thomas said, tartly,— + +“And let him wait.” {55a} + +Then to me,— + +“I hope we have done with verses, and are not to be befooled by the lad’s +nonsense touching mermaids or worse creatures.” + +Then to Will,— + +“William Shakspeare! we live in a Christian land, a land of great +toleration and forbearance. Three score cartsful of fagots a year are +fully sufficient to clear our English air from every pestilence of heresy +and witchcraft. It hath not alway been so, God wot! Innocent and guilty +took their turns before the fire, like geese and capons. The spit was +never cold; the cook’s sleeve was ever above the elbow. Countrymen came +down from distant villages into towns and cities, to see perverters whom +they had never heard of, and to learn the righteousness of hatred. When +heretics waxed fewer the religious began to grumble that God, in losing +his enemies, had also lost his avengers. + +“Do not thou, William Shakspeare, dig the hole for thy own stake. If +thou canst not make men wise, do not make them merry at thy cost. We are +not to be paganised any more. Having struck from our calendars, and +unnailed from our chapels, many dozens of decent saints, with as little +compunction and remorse as unlucky lads throw frog-spawn and tadpoles out +of stagnant ditches, never let us think of bringing back among us the +daintier divinities they ousted. All these are the devil’s imps, +beautiful as they appear in what we falsely call works of genius, which +really and truly are the devil’s own,—statues more graceful than +humanity, pictures more living than life, eloquence that raised single +cities above empires, poor men above kings. If these are not Satan’s +works, where are they? I will tell thee where they are likewise. In +holding vain converse with false gods. The utmost we can allow in +propriety is to call a knight Phœbus, and a dame Diana. They are not +meat for every trencher. + +“We must now proceed straightforward with the business on which thou +comest before us. What further sayest thou, witness?” + + EUSEBY TREEN. + +“His face was toward me; I saw it clearly. The graver man followed him +into the punt, and said, roughly, ‘We shall get hanged as sure as thou +pipest.’ + +“Whereunto he answered,— + + ‘Naturally, as fall upon the ground + The leaves in winter and the girls in spring.’ + +And then began he again with the mermaid; whereat the graver man clapped +a hand before his mouth, and swore he should take her in wedlock, to have +and to hold, if he sang another stave. ‘And thou shalt be her pretty +little bridemaid,’ quoth he gaily to the graver man, chucking him under +the chin.” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“And what did Carnaby say unto thee, or what didst thou say unto +Carnaby?” + + EUSEBY TREEN. + +“Carnaby said unto me, somewhat tauntingly, ‘The big squat man, that lay +upon thy bread-basket like a nightmare, is a punt at last, it seems.’ + +“‘Punt, and more too,’ answered I. ‘Tarry awhile, and thou shalt see +this punt (so let me call it) lead them into temptation, and swamp them +or carry them to the gallows; I would not stay else.’” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“And what didst thou, Joseph Carnaby?” + + JOSEPH CARNABY. + +“Finding him neither slack nor shy, I readily tarried. We knelt down +opposite each other, and said our prayers; and he told me he was now +comfortable. ‘The evil one,’ said he, ‘hath enough to mind yonder: he +shall not hurt us.’ + +“Never was a sweeter night, had there been but some mild ale under it, +which any one would have sworn it was made for. The milky way looked +like a long drift of hail-stones on a sunny ridge.” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“Hast thou done describing?” + + JOSEPH CARNABY. + +“Yea, an please your worship.” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“God’s blessing be upon thee, honest Carnaby! I feared a moon-fall. In +our days nobody can think about a plum-pudding but the moon comes down +upon it. I warrant ye this lad here hath as many moons in his poems as +the Saracens had in their banners.” + + WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. + +“I have not hatched mine yet, sir. Whenever I do I trust it will be +worth taking to market.” + + JOSEPH CARNABY. + +“I said all I know of the stars; but Master Euseby can run over half a +score and upward, here and there. ‘Am I right, or wrong?’ cried he, +spreading on the back of my hand all his fingers, stiff as antlers and +cold as icicles. ‘Look up, Joseph! Joseph! there is no Lucifer in the +firmament!’ I myself did feel queerish and qualmy upon hearing that a +star was missing, being no master of gainsaying it; and I abased my eyes, +and entreated of Euseby to do in like manner. And in this posture did we +both of us remain; and the missing star did not disquiet me; and all the +others seemed as if they knew us and would not tell of us; and there was +peace and pleasantness over sky and earth. And I said to my companion,— + +“‘How quiet now, good Master Euseby, are all God’s creatures in this +meadow, because they never pry into such high matters, but breathe +sweetly among the pig-nuts. The only things we hear or see stirring are +the glow-worms and dormice, as though they were sent for our edification, +teaching us to rest contented with our own little light, and to come out +and seek our sustenance where none molest or thwart us.’” + + WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. + +“Ye would have it thus, no doubt, when your pockets and pouches are full +of gins and nooses.” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“A bridle upon thy dragon’s tongue! And do thou, Master Joseph, quit the +dormice and glow-worms, and tell us whither did the rogues go.” + + JOSEPH CARNABY. + +“I wot not after they had crossed the river they were soon out of sight +and hearing.” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“Went they toward Charlecote?” + + JOSEPH CARNABY. + +“Their first steps were thitherward.” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“Did they come back unto the punt?” + + JOSEPH CARNABY. + +“They went down the stream in it, and crossed the Avon some fourscore +yards below where we were standing. They came back in it, and moored it +to the sedges in which it had stood before.” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“How long were they absent?” + + JOSEPH CARNABY. + +“Within an hour, or thereabout, all the three men returned. Will +Shakspeare and another were sitting in the middle, the third punted. + +“‘Remember now, gentles!’ quoth William Shakspeare, ‘the road we have +taken is henceforward a footpath for ever, according to law.’ + +“‘How so?’ asked the punter, turning toward him, + +“‘Forasmuch as a corpse hath passed along it,’ answered he. + +“Whereupon both Euseby and myself did forthwith fall upon our faces, +commending our souls unto the Lord.” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“It was then really the dead body that quivered so fearfully upon the +water, covering all the punt! Christ, deliver us! I hope the keeper +they murdered was not Jeremiah. His wife and four children would be very +chargeable, and the man was by no means amiss. Proceed! what further?” + +“On reaching the bank, ‘I never sat pleasanter in my lifetime,’ said +William Shakspeare, ‘than upon this carcass.’” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“Lord have mercy upon us! Thou upon a carcass, at thy years!” + +And the knight drew back his chair half an ell farther from the table, +and his lips quivered at the thought of such inhumanity. + +“And what said he more? and what did he?” asked the knight. + + JOSEPH CARNABY. + +“He patted it smartly, and said, ‘Lug it out; break it.’” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“These four poor children! who shall feed them?” + + SIR SILAS. + +“Sir! in God’s name have you forgotten that Jeremiah is gone to Nuneaton +to see his father, and that the murdered man is the buck?” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“They killed the buck likewise. But what, ye cowardly varlets! have ye +been deceiving me all this time? And thou, youngster! couldst thou say +nothing to clear up the case? Thou shalt smart for it. Methought I had +lost by a violent death the best servant ever man had—righteous, if there +be no blame in saying it, as the prophet whose name he beareth, and brave +as the lion of Judah.” + + WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. + +“Sir, if these men could deceive your worship for a moment, they might +deceive me for ever. I could not guess what their story aimed at, except +my ruin. I am inclined to lean for once toward the opinion of Master +Silas, and to believe it was really the stolen buck on which this William +(if indeed there is any truth at all in the story) was sitting.” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“What more hast thou for me that is not enigma or parable?” + + JOSEPH CARNABY. + +“I did not see the carcass, man’s or beast’s, may it please your worship, +and I have recited and can recite that only which I saw and heard. After +the words of lugging out and breaking it, knives were drawn accordingly. +It was no time to loiter or linger. We crope back under the shadow of +the alders and hazels on the high bank that bordereth Mickle Meadow, and, +making straight for the public road, hastened homeward.” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“Hearing this deposition, dost thou affirm the like upon thy oath, Master +Euseby Treen, or dost thou vary in aught essential?” + + EUSEBY TREEN. + +“Upon my oath I do depose and affirm the like, and truly the identical +same; and I will never more vary upon aught essential.” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“I do now further demand of thee whether thou knowest anything more +appertaining unto this business.” + + EUSEBY TREEN. + +“Ay, verily; that your worship may never hold me for timorsome and +superstitious, I do furthermore add that some other than deer-stealers +was abroad. In sign whereof, although it was the dryest and clearest +night of the season, my jerkin was damp inside and outside when I reached +my house-door.” + + WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. + +“I warrant thee, Euseby, the damp began not at the outside. A word in +thy ear—Lucifer was thy tapster, I trow.” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“Irreverent swine! hast no awe nor shame. Thou hast aggravated thy +offence, William Shakspeare, by thy foul-mouthedness.” + + SIR SILAS. + +“I must remind your worship that he not only has committed this iniquity +afore, but hath pawed the puddle he made, and relapsed into it after due +caution and reproof. God forbid that what he spake against me, out of +the gall of his proud stomach, should move me. I defy him, a low, +ignorant wretch, a rogue and vagabond, a thief and cut-throat, a — {66a} +monger and mutton-eater.” + + WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. + +“Your worship doth hear the learned clerk’s testimony in my behalf. ‘Out +of the mouth of babes and sucklings’—” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“Silas, the youth has failings—a madcap; but he is pious.” + + WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. + +“Alas, no, sir! Would I were! But Sir Silas, like the prophet, came to +curse, and was forced to bless me, even me, a sinner, a mutton-eater!” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“Thou urgedst him. He beareth no ill-will toward thee. Thou knewedst, I +suspect, that the blackness in his mouth proceeded from a natural cause.” + + WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. + +“The Lord is merciful! I was brought hither in jeopardy; I shall return +in joy. Whether my innocence be declared or otherwise, my piety and +knowledge will be forwarded and increased; for your worship will +condescend, even from the judgment-seat, to enlighten the ignorant where +a soul shall be saved or lost. And I, even I, may trespass a moment on +your courtesy. I quail at the words _natural cause_. Be there any +such?” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“Youth! I never thought thee so staid. Thou hast, for these many +months, been represented unto me as one dissolute and light, much given +unto mummeries and mysteries, wakes and carousals, cudgel-fighters and +mountebanks and wanton women. They do also represent of thee—I hope it +may be without foundation—that thou enactest the parts, not simply of +foresters and fairies, girls in the green-sickness and friars, lawyers +and outlaws, but likewise, having small reverence for station, of kings +and queens, knights and privy-counsellors, in all their glory. It hath +been whispered, moreover, and the testimony of these two witnesses doth +appear in some measure to countenance and confirm it, that thou hast at +divers times this last summer been seen and heard alone, inasmuch as +human eye may discover, on the narrow slip of greensward between the Avon +and the chancel, distorting thy body like one possessed, and uttering +strange language, like unto incantation. This, however, cometh not +before me. Take heed! take heed unto thy ways; there are graver things +in law even than homicide and deer-stealing.” + + SIR SILAS. + +“And strong against him. Folks have been consumed at the stake for +pettier felonies and upon weaker evidence.” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“To that anon.” + +William Shakspeare did hold down his head, answering nought. And Sir +Thomas spake again unto him, as one mild and fatherly, if so be that such +a word may be spoken of a knight and parliament-man. And these are the +words he spake:— + +“Reason and ruminate with thyself now. To pass over and pretermit the +danger of representing the actions of the others, and mainly of lawyers +and churchmen, the former of whom do pardon no offences, and the latter +those only against God, having no warrant for more, canst thou believe it +innocent to counterfeit kings and queens? Supposest thou that if the +impression of their faces on a farthing be felonious and rope-worthy, the +imitation of head and body, voice and bearing, plume and strut, crown and +mantle, and everything else that maketh them royal and glorious, be aught +less? Perpend, young man, perpend! Consider, who among inferior mortals +shall imitate them becomingly? Dreamest thou they talk and act like +checkmen at Banbury fair? How can thy shallow brain suffice for their +vast conceptions? How darest thou say, as they do: ‘Hang this fellow; +quarter that; flay; mutilate; stab; shoot; press; hook; torture; burn +alive’? These are royalties. Who appointed thee to such office? The +Holy Ghost? He alone can confer it; but when wert thou anointed?” + +William was so zealous in storing up these verities that he looked as +though he were unconscious that the pouring-out was over. He started, +which he had not done before, at the voice of Master Silas; but soon +recovered his complacency, and smiled with much serenity at being called +low-minded varlet. + +“Low-minded varlet!” cried Master Silas, most contemptuously, “dost thou +imagine that king calleth king, like thy chums, _filcher_ and _fibber_, +_whirligig_ and _nincompoop_? Instead of this low vulgarity and sordid +idleness, ending in nothing, they throw at one another such fellows as +thee by the thousand, and when they have cleared the land, render God +thanks and make peace.” + +Willy did now sigh out his ignorance of these matters; and he sighed, +mayhap, too, at the recollection of the peril he had run into, and had +ne’er a word on the nail. {70a} + +The bowels of Sir Thomas waxed tenderer and tenderer; and he opened his +lips in this fashion:— + +“Stripling! I would now communicate unto thee, on finding thee docile +and assentaneous, the instruction thou needest on the signification of +the words _natural cause_, if thy duty toward thy neighbour had been +first instilled into thee.” + +Whereupon Master Silas did interpose, for the dinner hour was drawing +nigh. + +“We cannot do all at once,” quoth he. “Coming out of order, it might +harm him. Malt before hops, the world over, or the beer muddies.” + +But Sir Thomas was not to be pricked out of his form even by so shrewd a +pricker; and like unto one who heareth not, he continued to look most +graciously on the homely vessel that stood ready to receive his wisdom. + +“Thy mind,” said he, “being unprepared for higher cogitations, and the +groundwork and religious duty not being well rammer-beaten and flinted, I +do pass over this supererogatory point, and inform thee rather, that +bucks and swans and herons have something in their very names announcing +them of knightly appurtenance; and (God forfend that evil do ensue +therefrom!) that a goose on the common, or a game-cock on the loft of a +cottager or villager, may be seized, bagged, and abducted, with far less +offence to the laws. In a buck there is something so gainly and so +grand, he treadeth the earth with such ease and such agility, he +abstaineth from all other animals with such punctilious avoidance, one +would imagine God created him when he created knighthood. In the swan +there is such purity, such coldness is there in the element he +inhabiteth, such solitude of station, that verily he doth remind me of +the Virgin Queen herself. Of the heron I have less to say, not having +him about me; but I never heard his lordly croak without the conceit that +it resembled a chancellor’s or a primate’s. + +“I do perceive, William Shakspeare, thy compunction and contrition.” + + WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. + +“I was thinking, may it please your worship, of the game-cock and the +goose, having but small notion of herons. This doctrine of abduction, +please your worship, hath been alway inculcated by the soundest of our +judges. Would they had spoken on other points with the same clearness. +How many unfortunates might thereby have been saved from crossing the +Cordilleras!” {72a} + + SIR THOMAS. + +“Ay, ay! they have been fain to fly the country at last, thither or +elsewhere.” + +And then did Sir Thomas call unto him Master Silas, and say,— + +“Walk we into the bay-window. And thou mayest come, Ephraim.” + +And when we were there together, I, Master Silas, and his worship, did +his worship say unto the chaplain, but oftener looking toward me,— + +“I am not ashamed to avouch that it goeth against me to hang this young +fellow, richly as the offence in its own nature doth deserve it, he +talketh so reasonably; not indeed so reasonably, but so like unto what a +reasonable man may listen to and reflect on. There is so much, too, of +compassion for others in hard cases, and something so very near in +semblance to innocence itself in that airy swing of lightheartedness +about him. I cannot fix my eyes (as one would say) on the shifting and +sudden _shade-and-shine_, which cometh back to me, do what I will, and +mazes me in a manner, and blinks me.” + +At this juncture I was ready to fall upon the ground before his worship, +and clasp his knees for Willy’s pardon. But he had so many points about +him, that I feared to discompose ’em, and thus make bad worse. Besides +which, Master Silas left me but scanty space for good resolutions, +crying,— + +“He may be committed, to save time. Afterward he may be sentenced to +death, or he may not.” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“’T were shame upon me were he not; ’t were indication that I acted +unadvisedly in the commitment.” + + SIR SILAS. + +“The penalty of the law may be commuted, if expedient, on application to +the fountain of mercy in London.” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“Maybe, Silas, those shall be standing round the fount of mercy who play +in idleness and wantonness with its waters, and let them not flow widely, +nor take their natural course. Dutiful gallants may encompass it, and it +may linger among the flowers they throw into it, and never reach the +parched lip on the wayside. + +“These are homely thoughts—thoughts from a-field, thoughts for the study +and housekeeper’s room. But whenever I have given utterance unto them, +as my heart hath often prompted me with beatings at the breast, my +hearers seemed to bear toward me more true and kindly affection than my +richest fancies and choicest phraseologies could purchase. + +“’T were convenient to bethink thee, should any other great man’s park +have been robbed this season, no judge upon the bench will back my +recommendation for mercy. And, indeed, how could I expect it? Things +may soon be brought to such a pass that their lordships shall scarcely +find three haunches each upon the circuit.” + +“Well, Sir!” quoth Master Silas, “you have a right to go on in your own +way. Make him only give up the girl.” + +Here Sir Thomas reddened with righteous indignation, and answered,— + +“I cannot think it! such a stripling! poor, penniless; it must be some +one else.” And now Master Silas did redden in his turn, redder than Sir +Thomas, and first asked me,— + +“What the devil do you stare at?” And then asked his worship,— + +“Who should it be if not the rogue?” and his lips turned as blue as a +blue-bell. Then Sir Thomas left the window, and again took his chair, +and having stood so long on his legs, groaned upon it to ease him. His +worship scowled with all his might, and looked exceedingly wroth and +vengeful at the culprit, and said unto him,— + +“Harkye, knave! I have been conferring with my learned clerk and +chaplain in what manner I may, with the least severity, rid the county +(which thou disgracest) of thee.” + +William Shakspeare raised up his eyes, modestly and fearfully, and said +slowly these few words, which, had they been a better and nobler man’s, +would deserve to be written in letters of gold. I, not having that art +nor substance, do therefore write them in my largest and roundest +character, and do leave space about ’em, according to their rank and +dignity:— + +“Worshipful sir!” + +“A WORD IN THE EAR IS OFTEN AS GOOD AS A HALTER UNDER IT, AND SAVES THE +GROAT.” + +“Thou discoursest well,” said Sir Thomas, “but others can discourse well +likewise. Thou shalt avoid; I am resolute.” + + WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. + +“I supplicate your honour to impart unto me, in your wisdom, the mode and +means whereby I may surcease to be disgraceful to the county.” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“I am not bloody-minded. + +“First, thou shalt have the fairest and fullest examination. Much hath +been deposed against thee; something may come forth for thy advantage. I +will not thy death; thou shalt not die. + +“The laws have loopholes, like castles, both to shoot from and to let +folks down.” + + SIR SILAS. + +“That pointed ear would look the better for paring, and that high +forehead can hold many letters.” + +Whereupon did William, poor lad! turn deadly pale, but spake not. + +Sir Thomas then abated a whit of his severity, and said, staidly,— + +“Testimony doth appear plain and positive against thee; nevertheless am I +minded and prompted to aid thee myself, in disclosing and unfolding what +thou couldst not of thine own wits, in furtherance of thine own defence. + +“One witness is persuaded and assured of the evil spirit having been +abroad, and the punt appeared unto him diversely from what it appeared +unto the other.” + + WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. + +“If the evil spirit produced one appearance, he might have produced all, +with deference to the graver judgment of your worship. + +“If what seemed _punt_ was _devil_, what seemed _buck_ might have been +_devil_ too; nay, more easily, the horns being forthcoming. + +“Thieves and reprobates do resemble him more nearly still; and it would +be hard if he could not make free with their bodies, when he has their +souls already.” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“But, then, those voices! and thou thyself, Will Shakspeare!” + + WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. + +“O might I kiss the hand of my deliverer, whose clear-sightedness +throweth such manifest and plenary light upon my innocence!” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“How so? What light, in God’s name, have I thrown upon it as yet?” + + WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. + +“Oh! those voices! those faeries and spirits! whence came they? None can +deal with ’em but the devil, the parson, and witches. And does not the +devil oftentimes take the very form, features, and habiliments of +knights, and bishops, and other good men, to lead them into temptation +and destroy them? or to injure their good name, in failure of seduction? + +“He is sure of the wicked; he lets them go their ways out of hand. + +“I think your worship once delivered some such observation, in more +courtly guise, which I would not presume to ape. If it was not your +worship, it was our glorious lady the queen, or the wise Master +Walsingham, or the great Lord Cecil. I may have marred and broken it, as +sluts do a pancake, in the turning.” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“Why! ay, indeed, I had occasion once to remark as much.” + + WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. + +“So have I heard in many places; although I was not present when Matthew +Atterend fought about it for the honour of Kineton hundred.” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“Fought about it!” + + WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. + +“As your honour recollects. Not but on other occasions he would have +fought no less bravely for the queen.” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“We must get thee through, were it only for thy memory,—the most precious +gift among the mental powers that Providence hath bestowed upon us. I +had half forgotten the thing myself. Thou mayest, in time, take thy +satchel for London, and aid good old Master Holingshed. + +“We must clear thee, Will! I am slow to surmise that there is blood upon +thy hands!” + +His worship’s choler had all gone down again; and he sat as cool and +comfortable as a man sitteth to be shaved. Then called he on Euseby +Treen, and said,— + +“Euseby Treen! tell us whether thou observedst anything unnoticed or +unsaid by the last witness.” + + EUSEBY TREEN. + +“One thing only, sir! + +“When they had passed the water an owlet hooted after them; and +methought, if they had any fear of God before their eyes they would have +turned back, he cried so lustily.” + + WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. + +“Sir, I cannot forbear to take the owlet out of your mouth. He knocks +them all on the head like so many mice. Likely story! One fellow hears +him cry lustily, the other doth not hear him at all!” + + JOSEPH CARNABY. + +“Not hear him! A body might have heard him at Barford or Sherbourne.” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“Why didst not name him? Canst not answer me?” + + JOSEPH CARNABY. + +“_He_ doubted whether punt were punt; I doubted whether owlet were owlet, +after Lucifer was away from the roll-call. + +“We say, _Speak the truth and shame the devil_; but shaming him is one +thing, your honour, and facing him another! I have heard owlets, but +never owlet like him.” + + WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. + +“The Lord be praised! All, at last, a-running to my rescue. + +“Owlet, indeed! Your worship may have remembered in an ancient +book—indeed, what book is so ancient that your worship doth not remember +it?—a book printed by Doctor Faustus—” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“Before he dealt with the devil?” + + WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. + +“Not long before, it being the very book that made the devil think it +worth his while to deal with him.” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“What chapter thereof wouldst thou recall unto my recollection?” + + WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. + +“That concerning owls, with the grim print afore it. + +“Doctor Faustus, the wise doctor, who knew other than owls and owlets, +knew the tempter in that form. Faustus was not your man for fancies and +figments; and he tells us that, to his certain knowledge, it was verily +an owl’s face that whispered so much mischief in the ear of our first +parent. + +“One plainly sees it, quoth Doctor Faustus, under that gravity which in +human life we call dignity, but of which we read nothing in the Gospel. +We despise the hangman, we detest the hanged; and yet, saith Duns Scotus, +could we turn aside the heavy curtain, or stand high enough a-tiptoe to +peep through its chinks and crevices, we should perhaps find these two +characters to stand justly among the most innocent in the drama. He who +blinketh the eyes of the poor wretch about to die doeth it out of mercy; +those who preceded him, bidding him in the garb of justice to shed the +blood of his fellow-man, had less or none. So they hedge well their own +grounds, what care they? For this do they catch at stakes and thorns, at +quick and rotten—” + +Here Master Silas interrupted the discourse of the devil’s own doctor, +delivered and printed by him before he was the devil’s, to which his +worship had listened very attentively and delightedly. But Master Silas +could keep his temper no longer, and cried, fiercely, “Seditious +sermonizer! hold thy peace, or thou shalt answer for ’t before +convocation.” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“Silas! thou dost not approve, then, the doctrine of this Doctor Duns?” + + SIR SILAS. + +“Heretical Rabbi!” + + WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. + +“_If two of a trade can never agree_, yet surely two of a name may.” + + SIR SILAS. + +“Who dares call me heretical? who dares call me rabbi? who dares call me +Scotus? Spider! spider! yea, thou hast one corner left; I espy thee, and +my broom shall reach thee yet.” + + WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. + +“I perceive that Master Silas doth verily believe I have been guilty of +suborning the witnesses, at least the last, the best man (if any +difference) of the two. No, sir, no. If my family and friends have +united their wits and money for this purpose, be the crime of perverted +justice on their heads! They injure whom they intended to serve. +Improvident men!—if the young may speak thus of the elderly; could they +imagine to themselves that your worship was to be hoodwinked and led +astray?” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“No man shall ever dare to hoodwink me, to lead me astray,—no, nor lead +me anywise. Powerful defence! Heyday! Sit quiet, Master Treen!—Euseby +Treen! dost hear me? Clench thy fist again, sirrah! and I clap thee in +the stocks. + +“Joseph Carnaby! do not scratch thy breast nor thy pate before me.” + +Now Joseph had not only done that in his wrath, but had unbuckled his +leathern garter, fit instrument for strife and blood, and peradventure +would have smitten, had not the knight, with magisterial authority, +interposed. + +His worship said unto him, gravely,— + +“Joseph Carnaby! Joseph Carnaby! hast thou never read the words ‘_Put up +thy sword_’?” + +“Subornation! your worship!” cried Master Joe. “The fellow hath ne’er a +shilling in leather or till, and many must go to suborn one like me.” + +“I do believe it of thee,” said Sir Thomas; “but patience, man! patience! +he rather tended toward exculpating thee. Ye have far to walk for +dinner; ye may depart.” + +They went accordingly. + +Then did Sir Thomas say, “These are hot men, Silas!” + +And Master Silas did reply unto him,— + +“There are brands that would set fire to the bulrushes in the mill-pool. +I know these twain for quiet folks, having coursed with them over +Wincott.” + +Sir Thomas then said unto William, “It behooveth thee to stand clear of +yon Joseph, unless when thou mayest call to thy aid the Matthew Atterend +thou speakest of. He did then fight valiantly, eh?” + + WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. + +“His cause fought valiantly; his fist but seconded it. He won,—proving +the golden words to be no property of our lady’s, although her Highness +hath never disclaimed them.” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“What art thou saying?” + + WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. + +“So I heard from a preacher at Oxford, who had preached at Easter in the +chapel-royal of Westminster.” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“Thou! why, how could that happen? Oxford! chapel-royal!” + + WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. + +“And to whom I said (your worship will forgive my forwardness), ‘_I have +the honour_, _sir_, _to live within two measured miles of the very Sir +Thomas Lucy who spake that_.’ And I vow I said it without any hope or +belief that he would invite me, as he did, to dine with him thereupon.” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“There be nigh upon three miles betwixt this house and Stratford +bridge-end.” + + WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. + +“I dropt a mile in my pride and exultation, God forgive me! I would not +conceal my fault.” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“Wonderful! that a preacher so learned as to preach before majesty in the +chapel-royal should not have caught thee tripping over a whole lawful +mile,—a good third of the distance between my house and the cross-roads. +This is incomprehensible in a scholar.” + + WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. + +“God willed that he should become my teacher, and in the bowels of his +mercy hid my shame.” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“How camest thou into the converse of such eminent and ghostly men?” + + WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. + +“How, indeed?—everything against me!” + +He sighed, and entered into a long discourse, which Master Silas would at +sundry times have interrupted, but that Sir Thomas more than once frowned +upon him, even as he had frowned heretofore on young Will, who thus began +and continued his narration:— + +“Hearing the preacher preach at Saint Mary’s (for being about my father’s +business on Saturday, and not choosing to be a-horseback on Sundays, +albeit time-pressed, I footed it to Oxford for my edification on the +Lord’s day, leaving the sorrel with Master Hal Webster of the _Tankard +and Unicorn_)—hearing him preach, as I was saying, before the University +in St. Mary’s Church, and hearing him use moreover the very words that +Matthew fought about, I was impatient (God forgive me!) for the end and +consummation, and I thought I never should hear those precious words that +ease every man’s heart, ‘_Now to conclude_.’ However, come they did. I +hurried out among the foremost, and thought the congratulations of the +other doctors and dons would last for ever. He walked sharply off, and +few cared to keep his pace,—for they are lusty men mostly; and spiteful +bad women had breathed {89a} in the faces of some among them, or the +gowns had got between their legs. For my part, I was not to be balked; +so, tripping on aside him, I looked in his face askance. Whether he +misgave or how, he turned his eyes downward. No matter—have him I would. +I licked my lips and smacked them loud and smart, and scarcely venturing +to nod, I gave my head such a sort of motion as dace and roach give an +angler’s quill when they begin to bite. And this fairly hooked him.” + +“‘Young gentleman!’ said he, ‘where is your gown?’ + +“‘Reverend sir!’ said I, ‘I am unworthy to wear one.’ + +“‘A proper youth, nevertheless, and mightily well-spoken!’ he was pleased +to say. + +“‘Your reverence hath given me heart, which failed me,’ was my reply. +‘Ah! your reverence! those words about the devil were spicy words; but, +under favour, I do know the brook-side they sprang and flowered by. ’T +is just where it runs into Avon; ’t is called Hogbrook.’ + +“‘Right!’ quoth he, putting his hand gently on my shoulder; ‘but if I had +thought it needful to say so in my sermon, I should have affronted the +seniors of the University, since many claim them, and some peradventure +would fain transpose them into higher places, and giving up all right and +title to them, would accept in lieu thereof the poor recompense of a +mitre.’ + +“I wished (unworthy wish for a Sunday!) I had Matthew Atterend in the +midst of them. He would have given them skulls mitre-fashioned, if +mitres are cloven now as we see them on ancient monuments. Matt is your +milliner for gentles, who think no more harm of purloining rich saws in a +mitre than lane-born boys do of embezzling hazel-nuts in a woollen cap. +I did not venture to expound or suggest my thoughts, but feeling my +choler rise higher and higher, I craved permission to make my obeisance +and depart. + +“‘Where dost thou lodge, young man?’ said the preacher. + +“‘At the public,’ said I, ‘where my father customarily lodgeth. There, +too, is a mitre of the old fashion, swinging on the sign-post in the +middle of the street.’ + +“‘Respectable tavern enough!’ quoth the reverend doctor; ‘and worthy men +do turn in there, even quality,—Master Davenant, Master Powel, Master +Whorwood, aged and grave men. But taverns are Satan’s chapels, and are +always well attended on the Lord’s day, to twit him. Hast thou no friend +in such a city as Oxford?’ + +“‘Only the landlady of the Mitre,’ said I. + +“‘A comely woman,’ quoth he, ‘but too young for business by half. + +“‘Stay thou with me to-day, and fare frugally, but safely. + +“‘What may thy name be, and where is thy abode?’ + +“‘William Shakspeare, of Stratford-upon-Avon, at your service, sir.’ + +“‘And welcome,’ said he; ‘thy father ere now hath bought our college +wool. A truly good man we ever found him; and I doubt not he hath +educated his son to follow him in his paths. There is in the blood of +man, as in the blood of animals, that which giveth the temper and +disposition. These require nurture and culture. But what nurture will +turn flint-stones into garden mould? or what culture rear cabbages in the +quarries of Hedington Hill? To be well born is the greatest of all God’s +primary blessings, young man, and there are many well born among the poor +and needy. Thou art not of the indigent and destitute, who have great +temptations; thou art not of the wealthy and affluent, who have greater +still. God hath placed thee, William Shakspeare, in that pleasant +island, on one side whereof are the sirens, on the other the harpies, but +inhabiting the coasts on the wider continent, and unable to make their +talons felt, or their voices heard by thee. Unite with me in prayer and +thanksgiving for the blessings thus vouchsafed. We must not close the +heart when the finger of God would touch it. Enough, if thou sayest +only, _My soul_, _praise thou the Lord_!’” + +Sir Thomas said, “_Amen_!” Master Silas was mute for the moment, but +then quoth he, “I can say amen too in the proper place.” + +The knight of Charlecote, who appeared to have been much taken with this +conversation, then interrogated Willy:— + +“What farther might have been thy discourse with the doctor? or did he +discourse at all at trencher-time? Thou must have been very much abashed +to sit down at table with one who weareth a pure lambskin across his +shoulder, and moreover a pink hood.” + + WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. + +“Faith! was I, your honour! and could neither utter nor gulp.” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“These are good signs. Thou hast not lost all grace.” + + WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. + +“With the encouragement of Dr. Glaston—” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“And was it Dr. Glaston?” + + WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. + +“Said I not so?” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“The learnedst clerk in Christendom! a very Friar Bacon! The Pope +offered a hundred marks in Latin to who should eviscerate or evirate +him,—poisons very potent, whereat the Italians are handy,—so apostolic +and desperate a doctor is Doctor Glaston! so acute in his quiddities, and +so resolute in his bearing! He knows the dark arts, but stands aloof +from them. Prithee, what were his words unto thee?” + + WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. + +“Manna, sir, manna! pure from the desert!” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“Ay, but what spake he? for most sermons are that, and likewise many +conversations after dinner.” + + WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. + +“He spake of the various races and qualities of men, as before stated; +but chiefly on the elect and reprobate, and how to distinguish and know +them.” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“Did he go so far?” + + WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. + +“He told me that by such discussion he should say enough to keep me +constantly out of evil company.” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“See there! see there! and yet thou art come before me!—Can nothing warn +thee?” + + WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. + +“I dare not dissemble, nor feign, nor hold aught back, although it be to +my confusion. As well may I speak at once the whole truth for your +worship could find it out if I abstained.” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“Ay, that I should indeed, and shortly. But, come now, I am sated of thy +follies and roguish tricks, and yearn after the sound doctrine of that +pious man. What expounded the grave Glaston upon signs and tokens +whereby ye shall be known?” + + WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. + +“Wonderful things! things beyond belief! ‘There be certain men,’ quoth +he—” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“He began well. This promises. But why canst not thou go on?” + + WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. + +“‘There be certain men, who, rubbing one corner of the eye, do see a +peacock’s feather at the other, and even fire. We know, William, what +that fire is, and whence it cometh. Those wicked men, William, all have +their marks upon them, be it only a corn, or a wart, or a mole, or a +hairy ear, or a toe-nail turned inward. Sufficient, and more than +sufficient! He knoweth his own by less tokens. There is not one of them +that doth not sweat at some secret sin committed, or some inclination +toward it unsnaffled. + +“‘Certain men are there, likewise, who venerate so little the glorious +works of the Creator that I myself have known them to sneeze at the sun! +Sometimes it was against their will, and they would gladly have checked +it had they been able; but they were forced to shew what they are. In +our carnal state we say, _What is one against numbers_? In another we +shall truly say, _What are numbers against one_?’” + +Sir Thomas did ejaculate, “_Amen_! _Amen_!” And then his lips moved +silently, piously, and quickly; and then said he, audibly and loudly,— + +“_And make us at last true Israelites_!” + +After which he turned to young Willy, and said, anxiously,— + +“Hast thou more, lad? give us it while the Lord strengtheneth.” + +“Sir,” answered Willy, “although I thought it no trouble, on my return to +the _Mitre_, to write down every word I could remember, and although few +did then escape me, yet at this present I can bring to mind but scanty +sentences, and those so stray and out of order that they would only prove +my incapacity for sterling wisdom, and my incontinence of spiritual +treasure.” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“Even that sentence hath a twang of the doctor in it. Nothing is so +sweet as humility. The mountains may descend, but the valleys cannot +rise. Every man should know himself. Come, repeat what thou canst. I +would fain have three or four more heads.” + + WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. + +“I know not whether I can give your worship more than one other. Let me +try. It was when Doctor Glaston was discoursing on the protection the +wise and powerful should afford to the ignorant and weak:— + +“‘In the earlier ages of mankind, your Greek and Latin authors inform +you, there went forth sundry worthies, men of might, to deliver, not +wandering damsels, albeit for those likewise they had stowage, but +low-conditioned men, who fell under the displeasure of the higher, and +groaned in thraldom and captivity. And these mighty ones were believed +to have done such services to poor humanity that their memory grew +greater than they, as shadows do than substances at day-fall. And the +sons and grandsons of the delivered did laud and magnify those glorious +names; and some in gratitude, and some in tribulation, did ascend the +hills, which appeared unto them as altars bestrown with flowers and +herbage for heaven’s acceptance. And many did go far into the quiet +groves, under lofty trees, looking for whatever was mightiest and most +protecting. And in such places did they cry aloud unto the mighty who +had left them, “_Return_! _return_! _help us_! _help us_! _be blessed_! +_for ever blessed_!” + +“‘Vain men! but had they stayed there, not evil. Out of gratitude, +purest gratitude, rose idolatry. For the devil sees the fairest, and +soils it. + +“‘In these our days, methinks, whatever other sins we may fall into, such +idolatry is the least dangerous. For neither on the one side is there +much disposition for gratitude, nor on the other much zeal to deliver the +innocent and oppressed. Even this deliverance, although a merit, and a +high one, is not the highest. Forgiveness is beyond it. Forgive, or ye +shall not be forgiven. This ye may do every day; for if ye find not +offences, ye feign them; and surely ye may remove your own work, if ye +may re-remove another’s. To rescue requires more thought and wariness; +learn, then, the easier lesson first. Afterward, when ye rescue any from +another’s violence, or from his own (which oftentimes is more dangerous, +as the enemies are within not only the penetrals of his house but of his +heart), bind up his wounds before ye send him on his way. Should ye at +any time overtake the erring, and resolve to deliver him up, I will tell +you whither to conduct him. Conduct him to his Lord and Master, whose +household he hath left. It is better to consign him to Christ his +Saviour than to man his murderer; it is better to bid him live than to +bid him die. The one word our Teacher and Preserver said, the other our +enemy and destroyer. Bring him back again, the stray, the lost one bring +him back, not with clubs and cudgels, not with halberts and halters, but +generously and gently, and with the linking of the arm. In this posture +shall God above smile upon ye; in this posture of yours he shall +recognize again his beloved Son upon earth. Do ye likewise, and depart +in peace.’” + +William had ended, and there was silence in the hall for some time after, +when Sir Thomas said,— + +“He spake unto somewhat mean persons, who may do it without +disparagement. I look for authority, I look for doctrine, and find none +yet. If he could not have drawn us out a thread or two from the coat of +an apostle, he might have given us a smack of Augustin, or a sprig of +Basil. Our older sermons are headier than these, Master Silas! our new +beer is the sweeter and clammier, and wants more spice. The doctor hath +seasoned his with pretty wit enough, to do him justice, which in a sermon +is never out of place; for if there be the bane, there likewise is the +antidote. + +“What dost thou think about it, Master Silas?” + + SIR SILAS. + +“I would not give ten farthings for ten folios of such sermons.” + + WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. + +“These words, Master Silas, will oftener be quoted than any others of +thine; but rarely (do I suspect) as applicable to Doctor Glaston. I must +stick unto his gown. I must declare that, to my poor knowledge, many +have been raised to the bench of bishops for less wisdom and worse than +is contained in the few sentences I have been commanded by authority to +recite. No disparagement to any body I know, Master Silas, and +multitudes bear witness, that thou above most art a dead hand at a +sermon.” + + SIR SILAS. + +“Touch my sermons, wilt dare?” + + WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. + +“Nay, Master Silas, be not angered; it is courage enough to hear them.” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“Now, Silas, hold thy peace and rest contented. He hath excused himself +unto thee, throwing in a compliment far above his station, and not +unworthy of Rome or Florence. I did not think him so ready. Our +Warwickshire lads are fitter for football than courtesies; and, sooth to +say, not only the inferior.” + +His worship turned from Master Silas toward William, and said, “Brave +Willy, thou hast given us our bitters; we are ready now for any thing +solid. What hast left?” + + WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. + +“Little or nothing, sir.” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“Well, give us that little or nothing.” + +William Shakspeare was obedient to the commands of Sir Thomas, who had +spoken thus kindly unto him, and had deigned to cast at him from his +_lordly dish_ (as the Psalmist hath it) a fragment of facetiousness. + + WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. + +“Alas, sir! may I repeat it without offence, it not being doctrine but +admonition, and meant for me only?” + +“Speak it the rather for that,” quoth Sir Thomas. + +Then did William give utterance to the words of the preacher, not indeed +in his sermon at St. Mary’s, but after dinner. + +“‘Lust seizeth us in youth, ambition in midlife, avarice in old age; but +vanity and pride are the besetting sins that drive the angels from our +cradle, pamper us with luscious and most unwholesome food, ride our first +stick with us, mount our first horse with us, wake with us in the +morning, dream with us in the night, and never at any time abandon us. +In this world, beginning with pride and vanity, we are delivered over +from tormentor to tormentor, until the worst tormentor of all taketh +absolute possession of us for ever, seizing us at the mouth of the grave, +enchaining us in his own dark dungeon, standing at the door, and laughing +at our cries. But the Lord, out of his infinite mercy, hath placed in +the hand of every man the helm to steer his course by, pointing it out +with his finger, and giving him strength as well as knowledge to pursue +it. + +“‘William! William! there is in the moral straits a current from right to +wrong, but no re-flux from wrong to right; for which destination we must +hoist our sails aloft and ply our oars incessantly, or night and the +tempest will overtake us, and we shall shriek out in vain from the +billows, and irrecoverably sink.’” + +“Amen!” cried Sir Thomas most devoutly, sustaining his voice long and +loud. + +“Open that casement, good Silas! the day is sultry for the season of the +year; it approacheth unto noontide. The room is close, and those blue +flies do make a strange hubbub.” + + WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. + +“In troth do they, sir; they come from the kitchen, and do savour +woundily of roast goose! And, methinks—” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“What bethinkest thou?” + + WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. + +“The fancy of a moment,—a light and vain one.” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“Thou relievest me; speak it!” + + WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. + +“How could the creatures cast their coarse rank odour thus far?—even into +your presence! A noble and spacious hall! Charlecote, in my mind, beats +Warwick Castle, and challenges Kenilworth.” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“The hall is well enough; I must say it is a noble hall,—a hall for a +queen to sit down in. And I stuffed an arm-chair with horse-hair on +purpose, feathers over it, swan-down over them again, and covered it with +scarlet cloth of Bruges, five crowns the short ell. But her highness +came not hither; she was taken short; she had a tongue in her ear.” + + WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. + +“Where all is spring, all is buzz and murmur.” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“Quaint and solid as the best yew hedge. I marvel at thee. A knight +might have spoken it, under favour. They stopped her at Warwick—to see +what? two old towers that don’t match, {105a} and a portcullis that +(people say) opens only upon fast-days. Charlecote Hall, I could have +told her sweet Highness, was built by those Lucys who came over with +Julius Cæsar and William the Conqueror, with cross and scallop-shell on +breast and beaver.” + +“But, _honest Willy_!?—” + +Such were the very words; I wrote them down with two signs in the +margent,—one a mark of admiration, as thus (!), the other of +interrogation (so we call it) as thus (?). + +“But, honest Willy, I would fain hear more,” quoth he, “about the learned +Doctor Glaston. He seemeth to be a man after God’s own heart.” + + WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. + +“Ay is he! Never doth he sit down to dinner but he readeth first a +chapter of the Revelation; and if he tasteth a pound of butter at Carfax, +he saith a grace long enough to bring an appetite for a baked bull’s +{106a} —zle. If this be not after God’s own heart, I know not what is.” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“I would fain confer with him, but that Oxford lieth afar off,—a matter +of thirty miles, I hear. I might, indeed, write unto him; but our +Warwickshire pens are mighty broad-nibbed, and there is a something in +this plaguy ink of ours sadly ropy—” + +“I fear there is,” quoth Willy. + +“And I should scorn,” continued his worship, “to write otherwise than in +a fine Italian character to the master of a college, near in dignity to +knighthood.” + + WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. + +“Worshipful sir! is there no other way of communicating but by person, or +writing, or messages?” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“I will consider and devise. At present I can think of none so +satisfactory.” + +And now did the great clock over the gateway strike. And Bill Shakspeare +did move his lips, even as Sir Thomas had moved his erewhile in +ejaculating. And when he had wagged them twice or thrice after the +twelve strokes of the clock were over, again he ejaculated with voice +also, saying,— + +“Mercy upon us! how the day wears! Twelve strokes! Might I retire, +please your worship, into the chapel for about three quarters of an hour, +and perform the service {108a} as ordained?” + +Before Sir Thomas could give him leave or answer, did Sir Silas cry +aloud,— + +“He would purloin the chalice, worth forty-eight shillings, and melt it +down in the twinkling of an eye, he is so crafty.” + +But the knight was more reasonable, and said, reprovingly,— + +“There now, Silas! thou talkest widely, and verily in malice, if there be +any in thee.” + +“Try him,” answered Master Silas; “I don’t kneel where he does. Could he +have but his wicked will of me he would chop my legs off, as he did the +poor buck’s.” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“No, no, no; he hath neither guile nor revenge in him. We may let him +have his way, now that he hath taken the right one.” + + SIR SILAS. + +“Popery! sheer popery! strong as harts-horn! Your papists keep these +outlandish hours for their masses and mummery. Surely we might let God +alone at twelve o’clock! Have we no bowels?” + + WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. + +“Gracious sir! I do not urge it; and the time is now past by some +minutes.” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“Art thou popishly inclined, William?” + + WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. + +“Sir, I am not popishly inclined; I am not inclined to pay tribute of +coin or understanding to those who rush forward with a pistol at my +breast, crying, ‘_Stand_, _or you are a dead man_.’ I have but one guide +in faith,—a powerful, an almighty one. He will not suffer to waste away +and vanish the faith for which he died. He hath chosen in all countries +pure hearts for its depositaries; and I would rather take it from a +friend and neighbour, intelligent and righteous, and rejecting lucre, +than from some foreigner educated in the pride of cities or in the +moroseness of monasteries, who sells me what Christ gave me,—his own +flesh and blood. + +“I can repeat by heart what I read above a year agone, albeit I cannot +bring to mind the title of the book in which I read it. These are the +words,— + +“‘The most venal and sordid of all the superstitions that have swept and +darkened our globe may, indeed, like African locusts, have consumed the +green corn in very extensive regions, and may return periodically to +consume it; but the strong, unwearied labourer who sowed it hath alway +sown it in other places less exposed to such devouring pestilences. +Those cunning men who formed to themselves the gorgeous plan of universal +dominion were aware that they had a better chance of establishing it than +brute ignorance or brute force could supply, and that soldiers and their +paymasters were subject to other and powerfuller fears than the +transitory ones of war and invasion. What they found in heaven they +seized; what they wanted they forged. + +“‘And so long as there is vice and ignorance in the world, so long as +fear is a passion, their dominion will prevail; but their dominion is +not, and never shall be, universal. Can we wonder that it is so general? +Can we wonder that anything is wanting to give it authority and effect, +when every learned, every prudent, every powerful, every ambitious man in +Europe, for above a thousand years, united in the league to consolidate +it? + +“‘The old dealers in the shambles, where Christ’s body is exposed for +sale in convenient marketable slices, {111a} have not covered with blood +and filth the whole pavement. Beautiful usages are remaining +still,—kindly affections, radiant hopes, and ardent aspirations! + +“‘It is a comfortable thing to reflect, as they do, and as we may do +unblamably, that we are uplifting to our Guide and Maker the same incense +of the heart, and are uttering the very words, which our dearest friends +in all quarters of the earth, nay in heaven itself, are offering to the +throne of grace at the same moment. + +“‘Thus are we together through the immensity of space. What are these +bodies? Do they unite us? No; they keep us apart and asunder even while +we touch. Realms and oceans, worlds and ages, open before two spirits +bent on heaven. What a choir surrounds us when we resolve to live +unitedly and harmoniously in Christian faith!’” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“Now, Silas, what sayest thou?” + + SIR SILAS. + +“Ignorant fool!” + + WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. + +“Ignorant fools are bearable, Master Silas! your wise ones are the +worst.” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“Prithee no bandying of loggerheads.” + + WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. + + “Or else what mortal man shall say + Whose shins may suffer in the fray?” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“Thou reasonest aptly and timest well. And surely, being now in so +rational and religious a frame of mind, thou couldst recall to memory a +section or head or two of the sermon holden at St. Mary’s. It would do +thee and us as much good as _Lighten our darkness_, or _Forasmuch as it +hath pleased_; and somewhat less than three quarters of an hour (maybe +less than one quarter) sufficeth.” + + SIR SILAS. + +“Or he hangs without me. I am for dinner in half the time.” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“Silas! Silas! he hangeth not with thee or without thee.” + + SIR SILAS. + +“He thinketh himself a clever fellow; but he (look ye) is the cleverest +that gets off.” + +“I hold quite the contrary,” quoth Will Shakspeare, winking at Master +Silas from the comfort and encouragement he had just received touching +the hanging. + +And Master Silas had his answer ready, and shewed that he was more than a +match for poor Willy in wit and poetry. + +He answered thus:— + + “If winks are wit, + Who wanteth it? + +Thou hadst other bolts to kill bucks withal. In wit, sirrah, thou art a +mere child.” + + WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. + +“Little dogs are jealous of children, great ones fondle them.” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“An that were written in the Apocrypha, in the very teeth of Bel and the +Dragon, it could not be truer. I have witnessed it with my own eyes over +and over.” + + SIR SILAS. + +“He will take this for wit, likewise, now the arms of Lucy do seal it.” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“Silas, they may stamp wit, they may further wit, they may send wit into +good company, but not make it.” + + WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. + +“Behold my wall of defence!” + + SIR SILAS. + +“An thou art for walls, I have one for thee from Oxford, pithy and +apposite, sound and solid, and trimmed up becomingly, as a collar of +brawn with a crown of rosemary, or a boar’s head with a lemon in the +mouth.” + + WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. + +“Egad, Master Silas, those are your walls for lads to climb over, an they +were higher than Babel’s.” + + SIR SILAS. + +“Have at thee!” + + “Thou art a wall + To make the ball + Rebound from. + + “Thou hast a back + For beadle’s crack + To sound from, to sound from. + +The foolishest dolts are the ground-plot of the most wit, as the idlest +rogues are of the most industry. Even thou hast brought wit down from +Oxford. And before a thief is hanged, parliament must make laws, +attorneys must engross them, printers stamp and publish them, hawkers cry +them, judges expound them, juries weigh and measure them with offences, +then executioners carry them into effect. The farmer hath already sown +the hemp, the ropemaker hath twisted it; sawyers saw the timber, +carpenters tack together the shell, grave-diggers delve the earth. And +all this truly for fellows like unto thee.” + + WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. + +“Whom a God came down from heaven to save.” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“Silas! he hangeth not. William, I must have the heads of the sermon, +six or seven of ’em; thou hast whetted my appetite keenly. How! dost +duck thy pate into thy hat? nay, nay, that is proper and becoming at +church; we need not such solemnity. Repeat unto us the setting forth at +St. Mary’s.” + +Whereupon did William Shakspeare entreat of Master Silas that he would +help him in his ghostly endeavours, by repeating what he called the +_preliminary_ prayer; which prayer I find nowhere in our ritual, and do +suppose it to be one of those Latin supplications used in our learned +universities now or erewhile. + +I am afeard it hath not the approbation of the strictly orthodox, for +inasmuch as Master Silas at such entreaty did close his teeth against it, +and with teeth thus closed did say, Athanasiuswise, “Go and be damned!” + +Bill was not disheartened, but said he hoped better, and began thus:— + +“‘My brethren!’ said the preacher, ‘or rather let me call you my +children, such is my age confronted with yours, for the most part,—my +children, then, and my brethren (for here are both), believe me, killing +is forbidden.’” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“This, not being delivered unto us from the pulpit by the preacher +himself, we may look into. Sensible man! shrewd reasoner! What a stroke +against deer-stealers! how full of truth and ruth! Excellent discourse!” + + WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. + +“The last part was the best.” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“I always find it so. The softest of the cheesecake is left in the +platter when the crust is eaten. He kept the best bit for the last, +then? He pushed it under the salt, eh? He told thee—” + + WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. + +“Exactly so.” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“What was it?” + + WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. + +“‘Ye shall not kill.’” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“How I did he run in a circle like a hare? One of his mettle should +break cover and off across the country like a fox or hart.” + + WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. + +“‘And yet ye kill time when ye can, and are uneasy when ye cannot.’” + +Whereupon did Sir Thomas say, aside unto himself, but within my hearing,— + +“Faith and troth! he must have had a head in at the window here one day +or other.” + + WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. + +“‘This sin cryeth unto the Lord.’” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“He was wrong there. It is not one of those that cry; mortal sins cry. +Surely he could not have fallen into such an error! it must be thine; +thou misunderstoodest him.” + + WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. + +“Mayhap, sir! A great heaviness came over me; I was oppressed in spirit, +and did feel as one awakening from a dream.” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“Godlier men than thou art do often feel the right hand of the Lord upon +their heads in like manner. It followeth contrition, and precedeth +conversion. Continue.” + + WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. + +“‘My brethren and children,’ said the teacher, ‘whenever ye want to kill +time call God to the chase, and bid the angels blow the horn; and thus ye +are sure to kill time to your heart’s content. And ye may feast another +day, and another after that—’” + +Then said Master Silas unto me, concernedly, + +“This is the mischief-fullest of all the devil’s imps, to talk in such +wise at a quarter past twelve!” + +But William went straight on, not hearing him, + +“‘—upon what ye shall, in such pursuit, have brought home with you. +Whereas, if ye go alone, or two or three together, nay, even if ye go in +thick and gallant company, and yet provide not that these be with ye, my +word for it, and a powerfuller word than mine, ye shall return to your +supper tired and jaded, and rest little when ye want to rest most.’” + +“Hast no other head of the Doctor’s?” quoth Sir Thomas. + +“Verily none,” replied Willy, “of the morning’s discourse, saving the +last words of it, which, with God’s help, I shall always remember.” + +“Give us them, give us them,” said Sir Thomas. + +“He wants doctrine; he wants authority; his are grains of millet,—grains +for unfledged doves; but they are sound, except the _crying_. + +“Deliver unto us the last words; for the last of the preacher, as of the +hanged, are usually the best.” + +Then did William repeat the concluding words of the discourse, being +these:— + +“‘As years are running past us, let us throw something on them which they +cannot shake off in the dust and hurry of the world, but must carry with +them to that great year of all, whereunto the lesser of this mortal life +do tend and are subservient.’” + +Sir Thomas, after a pause, and after having bent his knee under the +table, as though there had been the church-cushion, said unto us,— + +“Here he spake _through a glass_, _darkly_, as blessed Paul hath it.” + +Then turning toward Willy,— + +“And nothing more?” + +“Nothing but the _glory_,” quoth Willy, “at which there is always such a +clatter of feet upon the floor, and creaking of benches, and rustling of +gowns, and bustle of bonnets, and justle of cushions, and dust of mats, +and treading of toes, and punching of elbows, from the spitefuller, that +one wishes to be fairly out of it, after the scramble for _the peace of +God_ is at an end—” + +Sir Thomas threw himself back upon his armchair, and exclaimed in +wonderment, “How!” + + WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. + +“—and in the midst of the service again, were it possible. For nothing +is painfuller than to have the pail shaken off the head when it is +brim-full of the waters of life, and we are walking staidly under it.” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“Had the learned Doctor preached again in the evening, pursuing the +thread of his discourse, he might, peradventure, have made up the +deficiencies I find in him.” + + WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. + +“He had not that opportunity.” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“The more’s the pity.” + + WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. + +“The evening admonition, delivered by him unto the household—” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“What! and did he indeed shew wind enough for that? Prithee out with it, +if thou didst put it into thy tablets.” + + WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. + +“Alack, sir! there were so many Latin words, I fear me I should be at +fault in such attempt.” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“Fear not; we can help thee out between us, were there a dozen or a +score.” + + WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. + +“Bating those latinities, I do verily think I could tie up again most of +the points in his doublet.” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“At him then! What was his bearing?” + + WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. + +“In dividing his matter, he spooned out and apportioned the commons in +his discourse, as best suited the quality, capacity, and constitution of +his hearers. To those in priests’ orders he delivered a sort of +catechism.” + + SIR SILAS. + +“He catechise grown men! He catechise men in priests’ orders!—being no +bishop, nor bishop’s ordinary!” + + WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. + +“He did so; it may be at his peril.” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“And what else? for catechisms are baby’s pap.” + + WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. + +“He did not catechise, but he admonished the richer gentlemen with gold +tassels for their top-knots.” + + SIR SILAS. + +“I thought as much. It was no better in my time. Admonitions fell +gently upon those gold tassels; and they ripened degrees as glass and +sunshine ripen cucumbers. We priests, forsooth, are catechised! The +worst question to any gold tasseller is, ‘_How do you do_?’ Old _Alma +Mater_ coaxes and would be coaxed. But let her look sharp, or spectacles +may be thrust upon her nose that shall make her eyes water. Aristotle +could make out no royal road to wisdom; but this old woman of ours will +shew you one, an you tip her. + +“Tilley valley! {124a} catechise priests, indeed!” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“Peradventure he did it discreetly. Let us examine and judge him. +Repeat thou what he said unto them.” + + WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. + +“‘Many,’ said he, ‘are ingenuous, many are devout, some timidly, some +strenuously, but nearly all flinch, and rear, and kick, at the slightest +touch, or least inquisitive suspicion of an unsound part in their +doctrine. And yet, my brethren, we ought rather to flinch and feel sore +at our own searching touch, our own serious inquisition into ourselves. +Let us preachers, who are sufficiently liberal in bestowing our advice +upon others, inquire of ourselves whether the exercise of spiritual +authority may not be sometimes too pleasant, tickling our breasts with a +plume from Satan’s wing, and turning our heads with that inebriating +poison which he hath been seen to instil into the very chalice of our +salvation. Let us ask ourselves in the closet whether, after we have +humbled ourselves before God in our prayers, we never rise beyond the due +standard in the pulpit; whether our zeal for the truth be never +over-heated by internal fires less holy; whether we never grow stiffly +and sternly pertinacious, at the very time when we are reproving the +obstinacy of others; and whether we have not frequently so acted as if we +believed that opposition were to be relaxed and borne away by +self-sufficiency and intolerance. Believe me, the wisest of us have our +catechism to learn; and these, my dear friends, are not the only +questions contained in it. No Christian can hate; no Christian can +malign. Nevertheless, do we not often both hate and malign those unhappy +men who are insensible to God’s mercies? And I fear this unchristian +spirit swells darkly, with all its venom, in the marble of our hearts, +not because our brother is insensible to these mercies, but because he is +insensible to our faculty of persuasion, turning a deaf ear unto our +claim upon his obedience, or a blind or sleepy eye upon the fountain of +light, whereof we deem ourselves the sacred reservoirs. There is one +more question at which ye will tremble when ye ask it in the recesses of +your souls; I do tremble at it, yet must utter it. Whether we do not +more warmly and erectly stand up for God’s word because it came from our +mouths, than because it came from his? Learned and ingenious men may +indeed find a solution and excuse for all these propositions; but the +wise unto salvation will cry, “Forgive me, O my God, if, called by thee +to walk in thy way, I have not swept this dust from the sanctuary!”’” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“All this, methinks, is for the behoof of clerks and ministers.” + + WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. + +“He taught them what they who teach others should learn and practise. +Then did he look toward the young gentlemen of large fortune; and lastly +his glances fell upon us poorer folk, whom he instructed in the duty we +owe to our superiors.” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“Ay, there he had a host.” + + WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. + +“In one part of his admonition he said,— + +“‘Young gentlemen! let not the highest of you who hear me this evening be +led into the delusion, for such it is, that the founder of his family was +_originally_ a greater or a better man than the lowest here. He willed +it, and became it. He must have stood low; he must have worked hard,—and +with tools, moreover, of his own invention and fashioning. He waved and +whistled off ten thousand strong and importunate temptations; he dashed +the dice-box from the jewelled hand of Chance, the cup from Pleasure’s, +and trod under foot the sorceries of each; he ascended steadily the +precipices of Danger, and looked down with intrepidity from the summit; +he overawed Arrogance with Sedateness; he seized by the horn and +overleaped low Violence; and he fairly swung Fortune round. + +“‘The very high cannot rise much higher; the very low may,—the truly +great must have done it. + +“‘This is not the doctrine, my friends, of the silkenly and lawnly +religious; it wears the coarse texture of the fisherman, and walks +uprightly and straightforward under it. I am speaking now more +particularly to you among us upon whom God hath laid the incumbrances of +wealth, the sweets whereof bring teazing and poisonous things about you, +not easily sent away. What now are your pretensions under sacks of +money? or your enjoyments under the shade of genealogical trees? Are +they rational? Are they real? Do they exist at all? Strange +inconsistency! to be proud of having as much gold and silver laid upon +you as a mule hath, and yet to carry it less composedly! The mule is not +answerable for the conveyance and discharge of his burden,—you are. +Stranger infatuation still! to be prouder of an excellent thing done by +another than by yourselves, supposing any excellent thing to have +actually been done; and, after all, to be more elated on his cruelties +than his kindnesses, by the blood he hath spilt than by the benefits he +had conferred; and to acknowledge less obligation to a well-informed and +well-intentioned progenitor than to a lawless and ferocious barbarian. +Would stocks and stumps, if they could utter words, utter such gross +stupidity? Would the apple boast of his crab origin, or the peach of his +prune? Hardly any man is ashamed of being inferior to his ancestors, +although it is the very thing at which the great should blush, if, +indeed, the great in general descended from the worthy. I did expect to +see the day, and although I shall not see it, it must come at last, when +he shall be treated as a madman or an impostor who dares to claim +nobility or precedency and cannot shew his family name in the history of +his country. Even he who can shew it, and who cannot write his own under +it in the same or as goodly characters, must submit to the imputation of +degeneracy, from which the lowly and obscure are exempt. + +“‘He alone who maketh you wiser maketh you greater; and it is only by +such an implement that Almighty God himself effects it. When he taketh +away a man’s wisdom he taketh away his strength, his power over others +and over himself. What help for him then? He may sit idly and swell his +spleen, saying,—_Who is this_? _who is that_? and at the question’s end +the spirit of inquiry dies away in him. It would not have been so if, in +happier hour, he had said within himself, _Who am I_? _what am I_? and +had prosecuted the search in good earnest. + +“‘When we ask who _this_ man is, or who _that_ man is, we do not expect +or hope for a plain answer; we should be disappointed at a direct, or a +rational, or a kind one. We desire to hear that he was of low origin, or +had committed some crime, or been subjected to some calamity. Whoever he +be, in general we disregard or despise him, unless we discover that he +possesseth by nature many qualities of mind and body which he never +brings into use, and many accessories of situation and fortune which he +brings into abuse every day. According to the arithmetic in practice, he +who makes the most idlers and the most ingrates is the most worshipful. +But wiser ones than the scorers in this school will tell you how riches +and power were bestowed by Providence that generosity and mercy should be +exercised; for, if every gift of the Almighty were distributed in equal +portions to every creature, less of such virtues would be called into the +field; consequently there would be less of gratitude, less of submission, +less of devotion, less of hope, and, in the total, less of content.’” + +Here he ceased, and Sir Thomas nodded, and said,— + +“Reasonable enough! nay, almost too reasonable!” + +“But where are the apostles? Where are the disciples? Where are the +saints? Where is hell-fire?” + +“Well! patience! we may come to it yet. Go on, Will!” + +With such encouragement before him, did Will Shakspeare take breath and +continue:— + +“‘We mortals are too much accustomed to behold our superiors in rank and +station as we behold the leaves in the forest. While we stand under +these leaves, our protection and refuge from heat and labour, we see only +the rougher side of them, and the gloominess of the branches on which +they hang. In the midst of their benefits we are insensible to their +utility and their beauty, and appear to be ignorant that if they were +placed less high above us we should derive from them less advantage.’” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“Ay; envy of superiority made the angels kick and run restive.” + + WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. + +“May it please your worship! with all my faults, I have ever borne due +submission and reverence toward my superiors.” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“Very right! very scriptural! But most folks do that. Our duty is not +fulfilled unless we bear absolute veneration; unless we are ready to lay +down our lives and fortunes at the foot of the throne, and every thing +else at the foot of those who administer the laws under virgin majesty.” + + WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. + +“Honoured sir! I am quite ready to lay down my life and fortune, and all +the rest of me, before that great virgin.” + + SIR SILAS. + +“Thy life and fortune, to wit! + +“What are they worth? A June cob-nut, maggot and all.” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“Silas, we will not repudiate nor rebuff his Magdalen, that bringeth a +pot of ointment. Rather let us teach and tutor than twit. It is a +tractable and conducible youth, being in good company.” + + SIR SILAS. + +“Teach and tutor! Hold hard, sir! These base varlets ought to be taught +but two things: to bow as beseemeth them to their betters, and to hang +perpendicular. We have authority for it, that no man can add an inch to +his stature; but by aid of the sheriff I engage to find a chap who shall +add two or three to this whoreson’s.” {133a} + + SIR THOMAS. + +“Nay, nay, now, Silas! the lad’s mother was always held to be an honest +woman.” + + SIR SILAS. + +“His mother may be an honest woman for me.” + + WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. + +“No small privilege, by my faith! for any woman in the next parish to +thee, Master Silas!” + + SIR SILAS. + +“There again! out comes the filthy runlet from the quagmire, that but now +lay so quiet with all its own in it.” + + WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. + +“Until it was trodden on by the ass that could not leap over it. These, +I think, are the words of the fable.” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“They are so.” + + SIR SILAS. + +“What fable?” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“Tush! don’t press him too hard; he wants not wit, but learning.” + + SIR SILAS. + +“He wants a rope’s-end; and a rope’s-end is not enough for him, unless we +throw in the other.” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“Peradventure he may be an instrument, a potter’s clay, a type, a token. + +“I have seen many young men, and none like unto him. He is shallow but +clear; he is simple, but ingenuous.” + + SIR SILAS. + +“Drag the ford again, then. In my mind he is as deep as the big tankard; +and a mouthful of rough burrage will be the beginning and end of it.” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“No fear of that. Neither, if rightly reported by the youngster, is +there so much doctrine in the doctor as we expected. He doth not dwell +upon the main; he is worldly; he is wise in his generation,—he says +things out of his own head. + +“Silas, that can’t hold! We want _props—fulcrums_, I think you called +’em to the farmers; or was it _stimulums_?” + + SIR SILAS. + +“Both very good words.” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“I should be mightily pleased to hear thee dispute with that great don.” + + SIR SILAS. + +“I hate disputations. Saint Paul warns us against them. If one wants to +be thirsty, the tail of a stockfish is as good for it as the head of a +logician. + +“The doctor there, at Oxford, is in flesh and mettle; but let him be +sleek and gingered as he may, clap me in St. Mary’s pulpit, cassock me, +lamb-skin me, give me pink for my colours, glove me to the elbow, +heel-piece me half an ell high, cushion me before and behind, bring me a +mug of mild ale and a rasher of bacon, only just to con over the text +withal; then allow me fair play, and as much of my own way as he had, and +the devil take the hindermost. I am his man at any time.” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“I am fain to believe it. Verily, I do think, Silas, thou hast as much +stuff in thee as most men. Our beef and mutton at Charlecote rear other +than babes and sucklings. + +“I like words taken, like thine, from black-letter books. They look +stiff and sterling, and as though a man might dig about ’em for a week, +and never loosen the lightest. + +“Thou hast alway at hand either saint or devil, as occasion needeth, +according to the quality of the sinner, and they never come uncalled for. +Moreover, Master Silas, I have observed that thy hell-fire is generally +lighted up in the pulpit about the dog-days.” + +Then turned the worthy knight unto the youth, saying,— + +“’T were well for thee, William Shakspeare, if the learned doctor had +kept thee longer in his house, and had shewn unto thee the danger of +idleness, which hath often led unto deer-stealing and poetry. In thee we +already know the one, although the distemper hath eaten but skin-deep for +the present; and we have the testimony of two burgesses on the other. +The pursuit of poetry, as likewise of game, is unforbidden to persons of +condition.” + + WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. + +“Sir, that of game is the more likely to keep them in it.” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“It is the more knightly of the two; but poetry hath also her pursuers +among us. I myself, in my youth, had some experience that way; and I am +fain to blush at the reputation I obtained. His honour, my father, took +me to London at the age of twenty; and, sparing no expense in my +education, gave fifty shillings to one Monsieur Dubois to teach me +fencing and poetry, in twenty lessons. In vacant hours he taught us also +the laws of honour, which are different from ours. + +“In France you are unpolite unless you solicit a judge or his wife to +favour your cause; and you inevitably lose it. In France there is no +want of honour where there is no want of courage; you may lie, but you +must not hear that you lie. I asked him what he thought then of lying; +and he replied,— + +“‘_C’est selon_.’ + +“‘And suppose you should overhear the whisper?’ + +“‘_Ah_, _parbleu_! _Cela m’irrite_; _cela me pousse au bout_.’ + +“I was going on to remark that a real man of honour could less bear to +lie than to hear it; when he cried, at the words _real man of honour_,— + +“‘_Le voilà_, _Monsieur_! _le voilà_!’ and gave himself such a blow on +the breast as convinced me the French are a brave people. + +“He told us that nothing but his honour was left him, but that it +supplied the place of all he had lost. It was discovered some time +afterward that M. Dubois had been guilty of perjury, had been a spy, and +had lost nothing but a dozen or two of tin patty-pans, hereditary in his +family, his father having been a cook on his own account. + +“William, it is well at thy time of life that thou shouldst know the +customs of far countries, particularly if it should be the will of God to +place thee in a company of players. Of all nations in the world, the +French best understand the stage. If thou shouldst ever write for it, +which God forbid, copy them very carefully. Murders on their stage are +quite decorous and cleanly. Few gentlemen and ladies die by violence who +would not have died by exhaustion. ‘For they rant and rave until their +voice fails them, one after another; and those who do not die of it die +consumptive. They cannot bear to see cruelty; they would rather see any +image than their own.’ These are not my observations, but were made by +Sir Everard Starkeye, who likewise did remark to Monsieur Dubois, that +‘cats, if you hold them up to the looking-glass, will scratch you +terribly; and that the same fierce animal, as if proud of its cleanly +coat and velvety paw, doth carefully put aside what other animals of more +estimation take no trouble to conceal.’ + +“‘Our people,’ said Sir Everard, ‘must see upon the stage what they never +could have imagined; so the best men in the world would earnestly take a +peep of hell through a chink, whereas the worser would skulk away.’ + +“Do not thou be their caterer, William! Avoid the writing of comedies +and tragedies. To make people laugh is uncivil, and to make people cry +is unkind. And what, after all, are these comedies and these tragedies? +They are what, for the benefit of all future generations, I have myself +described them,— + + ‘The whimsies of wantons and stories of dread, + That make the stout-hearted look under the bed.’ + +Furthermore, let me warn thee against the same on account of the vast +charges thou must stand at. We Englishmen cannot find it in our hearts +to murder a man without much difficulty, hesitation, and delay. We have +little or no invention for pains and penalties; it is only our acutest +lawyers who have wit enough to frame them. Therefore it behooveth your +tragedy-man to provide a rich assortment of them, in order to strike the +auditor with awe and wonder. And a tragedy-man, in our country, who +cannot afford a fair dozen of stabbed males, and a trifle under that mark +of poisoned females, and chains enow to moor a whole navy in dock, is but +a scurvy fellow at the best. Thou wilt find trouble in purveying these +necessaries; and then must come the gim-cracks for the second +course,—gods, goddesses, fates, furies, battles, marriages, music, and +the maypole. Hast thou within thee wherewithal?” + +“Sir!” replied Billy, with great modesty, “I am most grateful for these +ripe fruits of your experience. To admit delightful visions into my own +twilight chamber is not dangerous nor forbidden. Believe me, sir, he who +indulges in them will abstain from injuring his neighbour; he will see no +glory in peril, and no delight in strife. + +“The world shall never be troubled by any battles and marriages of mine, +and I desire no other music and no other maypole than have lightened my +heart at Stratford.” + +Sir Thomas, finding him well-conditioned and manageable, proceeded:— + +“Although I have admonished thee of sundry and insurmountable +impediments, yet more are lying in the pathway. We have no verse for +tragedy. One in his hurry hath dropped rhyme, and walketh like unto the +man who wanteth the left-leg stocking. Others can give us rhyme indeed, +but can hold no longer after the tenth or eleventh syllable. Now Sir +Everard Starkeye, who is a pretty poet, did confess to Monsieur Dubois +the potency of the French tragic verse, which thou never canst hope to +bring over. + +“‘I wonder, Monsieur Dubois!’ said Sir Everard, ‘that your countrymen +should have thought it necessary to transport their heavy artillery into +Italy. No Italian could stand a volley of your heroic verses from the +best and biggest pieces. With these brought into action, you never could +have lost the battle of Pavia.’ + +“Now my friend Sir Everard is not quite so good a historian as he is a +poet; and Monsieur Dubois took advantage of him. + +“‘Pardon! Monsieur Sir Everard!’ said Monsieur Dubois, smiling at my +friend’s slip, ‘We did not lose the battle of Pavia. We had the +misfortune to lose our king, who delivered himself up, as our kings +always do, for the good and glory of his country.’ + +“‘How was this?’ said Sir Everard, in surprise. + +“‘I will tell you, Monsieur Sir Everard!’ said Monsieur Dubois. ‘I had +it from my own father, who fought in the battle, and told my mother, word +for word. + +“‘The king seeing his household troops, being only one thousand strong, +surrounded by twelve regiments, the best Spanish troops, amounting to +eighteen thousand four hundred and forty-two, although he doubted not of +victory, yet thought he might lose many brave men before the close of the +day, and rode up instantly to King Charles, and said,— + +“‘“My brother! I am loath to lose so many of those brave men yonder. +Whistle off your Spanish pointers, and I agree to ride home with you.” + +“‘And so he did. But what did King Charles? Abusing French loyalty, he +made our Francis his prisoner, would you believe it? and treated him +worse than ever badger was treated at the bottom of any paltry +stable-yard, putting upon his table beer and Rhenish wine and wild boar.’ + +“I have digressed with thee, young man,” continued the knight, much to +the improvement of my knowledge, I do reverentially confess, as it was of +the lad’s. “We will now,” said he, “endeavour our best to sober thee, +finding that Doctor Glaston hath omitted it.” + +“Not entirely omitted it,” said William, gratefully; “he did after dinner +all that could be done at such a time toward it. The doctor could, +however, speak only of the Greeks and Romans, and certainly what he said +of them gave me but little encouragement.” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“What said he?” + + WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. + +“He said, ‘The Greeks conveyed all their wisdom into their theatre,—their +stages were churches and parliament-houses; but what was false prevailed +over what was true. They had their own wisdom, the wisdom of the +foolish. Who is Sophocles, if compared to Doctor Hammersley of Oriel? or +Euripides, if compared to Doctor Prichard of Jesus? Without the Gospel, +light is darkness; and with it, children are giants. + +“‘William, I need not expatiate on Greek with thee, since thou knowest it +not, but some crumbs of Latin are picked up by the callowest beaks. The +Romans had, as thou findest, and have still, more taste for murder than +morality, and, as they could not find heroes among them, looked for +gladiators. Their only very high poet employed his elevation and +strength to dethrone and debase the Deity. They had several others, who +polished their language and pitched their instruments with admirable +skill; several who glued over their thin and flimsy gaberdines many +bright feathers from the widespread downs of Ionia, and the richly +cultivated rocks of Attica. + +“‘Some of them have spoken from inspiration; for thou art not to suppose +that from the heathen were withheld all the manifestations of the Lord. +We do agree at Oxford that the Pollio of Virgil is our Saviour. True, it +is the dullest and poorest poem that a nation not very poetical hath +bequeathed unto us; and even the versification, in which this master +excelled, is wanting in fluency and sweetness. I can only account for it +from the weight of the subject. Two verses, which are fairly worth two +hundred such poems, are from another pagan; he was forced to sigh for the +church without knowing her. He saith,— + + “May I gaze upon thee when my latest hour is come! + May I hold thy hand when mine faileth me!” + +This, if adumbrating the church, is the most beautiful thought that ever +issued from the heart of man; but if addressed to a wanton, as some do +opine, is filth from the sink, nauseating and insufferable. + +“‘William! that which moveth the heart most is the best poetry; it comes +nearest unto God, the source of all power.’” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“Yea; and he appeareth unto me to know more of poetry than of divinity. +Those ancients have little flesh upon the body poetical, and lack the +savour that sufficeth. The Song of Solomon drowns all their voices: they +seem but whistlers and guitar-players compared to a full-cheeked +trumpeter; they standing under the eaves in some dark lane, he upon a +well-caparisoned stallion, tossing his mane and all his ribbons to the +sun. I doubt the doctor spake too fondly of the Greeks; they were giddy +creatures. William, I am loath to be hard on them; but they please me +not. There are those now living who could make them bite their nails to +the quick, and turn green as grass with envy.” + + WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. + +“Sir, one of those Greeks, methinks, thrown into the pickle-pot, would be +a treasure to the housewife’s young jerkins.” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“Simpleton! simpleton! but thou valuest them justly. Now attend. If +ever thou shouldst hear, at Oxford or London, the verses I am about to +repeat, prithee do not communicate them to that fiery spirit Mat +Atterend. It might not be the battle of two hundreds, but two counties; +a sort of York and Lancaster war, whereof I would wash my hands. +Listen!” + +And now did Sir Thomas clear his voice, always high and sonorous, and did +repeat from the stores of his memory these rich and proud verses,— + + “‘Chloe! mean men must ever make mean loves; + They deal in dog-roses, but I in cloves. + They are just scorch’d enough to blow their fingers; + I am a phœnix downright burnt to cinders.’” + +At which noble conceits, so far above what poor Bill had ever imagined, +he lifted up his eyes to heaven, and exclaimed,— + +“The world itself must be reduced to that condition before such glorious +verses die! _Chloe_ and _Clove_! Why, sir! Chloe wants but a V toward +the tail to become the very thing! Never tell me that such matters can +come about of themselves. And how truly is it said that we mean men deal +in dog-roses. + +“Sir, if it were permitted me to swear on that holy Bible, I would swear +I never until this day heard that dog-roses were our provender; and yet +did I, no longer ago than last summer, write, not indeed upon a dog-rose, +but upon a sweet-briar, what would only serve to rinse the mouth withal +after the clove.” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“Repeat the same, youth. We may haply give thee our counsel thereupon.” + +Willy took heart, and lowering his voice, which hath much natural +mellowness, repeated these from memory:— + + “My briar that smelledst sweet + When gentle spring’s first heat + Ran through thy quiet veins,— + Thou that wouldst injure none, + But wouldst be left alone,— + Alone thou leavest me, and nought of thine remains. + + “What! hath no poet’s lyre + O’er thee, sweet-breathing briar, + Hung fondly, ill or well? + And yet methinks with thee + A poet’s sympathy, + Whether in weal or woe, in life or death, might dwell. + + “Hard usage both must bear, + Few hands your youth will rear, + Few bosoms cherish you; + Your tender prime must bleed + Ere you are sweet, but freed + From life, you then are prized; thus prized are poets too.” + +Sir Thomas said, with kind encouragement, “He who beginneth so discreetly +with a dog-rose, may hope to encompass a damask-rose ere he die.” + +Willy did now breathe freely. The commendation of a knight and +magistrate worked powerfully within him; and Sir Thomas said +furthermore,— + +“These short matters do not suit me. Thou mightest have added some moral +about life and beauty,—poets never handle roses without one; but thou art +young, and mayest get into the train.” + +Willy made the best excuse he could; and no bad one it was, the knight +acknowledged; namely, that the sweet-briar was not really dead, although +left for dead. + +“Then,” said Sir Thomas, “as life and beauty would not serve thy turn, +thou mightest have had full enjoyment of the beggar, the wayside, the +thieves, and the good Samaritan,—enough to tapestry the bridal chamber of +an empress.” + +William bowed respectfully, and sighed. + +“Ha! thou hast lost them, sure enough, and it may not be quite so fair to +smile at thy quandary,” quoth Sir Thomas. + +“I did my best the first time,” said Willy, “and fell short the second.” + +“That, indeed, thou must have done,” said Sir Thomas. “It is a grievous +disappointment, in the midst of our lamentations for the dead, to find +ourselves balked. I am curious to see how thou couldst help thyself. +Don’t be abashed; I am ready for even worse than the last.” + +Bill hesitated, but obeyed:— + + “And art thou yet alive? + And shall the happy hive + Send out her youth to cull + Thy sweets of leaf and flower, + And spend the sunny hour + With thee, and thy faint heart with murmuring music lull? + + “Tell me what tender care, + Tell me what pious prayer, + Bade thee arise and live. + The fondest-favoured bee + Shall whisper nought to thee + More loving than the song my grateful muse shall give.” + +Sir Thomas looked somewhat less pleased at the conclusion of these verses +than at the conclusion of the former, and said, gravely,— + +“Young man! methinks it is betimes that thou talkest of having a muse to +thyself; or even in common with others. It is only great poets who have +muses; I mean to say who have the right to talk in that fashion. The +French, I hear, _Phœbus_ it and _muse-me_ it right and left; and boggle +not to throw all nine, together with mother and master, into the compass +of a dozen lines or thereabout. And your Italian can hardly do without +’em in the multiplication-table. We Englishmen do let them in quietly, +shut the door, and say nothing of what passes. I have read a whole book +of comedies, and ne’er a muse to help the lamest.” + + WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. + +“Wonderful forbearance! I marvel how the poet could get through.” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“By God’s help. And I think we did as well without ’em; for it must be +an unabashable man that ever shook his sides in their company. They lay +heavy restraint both upon laughing and crying. In the great master +Virgil of Rome, they tell me they come in to count the ships, and having +cast up the sum total, and proved it, make off again. Sure token of two +things,—first, that he held ’em dog-cheap; secondly, that he had made but +little progress (for a Lombard born) in book-keeping at double entry. + +“He, and every other great genius, began with small subject-matters, +gnats and the like. I myself, similar unto him, wrote upon fruit. I +would give thee some copies for thy copying, if I thought thou wouldst +use them temperately, and not render them common, as hath befallen the +poetry of some among the brightest geniuses. I could shew thee how to +say new things, and how to time the same. Before my day, nearly all the +flowers and fruits had been gathered by poets, old and young, _from the +cedar of Lebanon to the hyssop on the wall_; roses went up to Solomon, +apples to Adam, and so forth. + +“Willy! my brave lad! I was the first that ever handled a quince, I’ll +be sworn. + +“Hearken! + + “Chloe! I would not have thee wince + That I unto thee send a quince. + I would not have thee say unto ’t + _Begone_! and trample ’t underfoot, + For, trust me, ’t is no fulsome fruit. + It came not out of mine own garden, + But all the way from Henly in Arden,— + Of an uncommon fine old tree, + Belonging to John Asbury. + And if that of it thou shalt eat, + ’Twill make thy breath e’en yet more sweet; + As a translation here doth shew, + _On fruit-trees_, _by Jean Mirabeau_. + The frontispiece is printed so. + But eat it with some wine and cake, + Or it may give the belly-ache. {153a} + This doth my worthy clerk indite, + I sign, + + SIR THOMAS LUCY, Knight.” + +“Now, Willy, there is not one poet or lover in twenty who careth for +consequences. Many hint to the lady what to do, few what not to do +although it would oftentimes, as in this case, go to one’s heart to see +the upshot.” + +“Ah, sir,” said Bill, in all humility, “I would make bold to put the +parings of that quince under my pillow, for sweet dreams and insights, if +Doctor Glaston had given me encouragement to continue the pursuit of +poetry. Of a surety it would bless me with a bedful of churches and +crucifixions, duly adumbrated.” + +Whereat Sir Thomas, shaking his head, did inform him,— + +“It was in the golden age of the world, as pagans call it, that poets of +condition sent fruits and flowers to their beloved, with posies fairly +penned. We, in our days, have done the like. But manners of late are +much corrupted on the one side, if not on both. + +“Willy! it hath been whispered that there be those who would rather have +a piece of brocade or velvet for a stomacher than the touchingest copy of +verses, with a bleeding heart at the bottom.” + + WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. + +“Incredible!” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“’T is even so!” + + WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. + +“They must surely be rotten fragments of the world before the +flood,—saved out of it by the devil.” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“I am not of that mind. + +“Their eyes, mayhap, fell upon some of the bravery cast ashore from the +Spanish Armada. In ancienter days, a few pages of good poetry outvalued +a whole ell of the finest Genoa.” + + WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. + +“When will such days return?” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“It is only within these few years that corruption and avarice have made +such ghastly strides. They always did exist, but were gentler. + +“My youth is waning, and has been nigh upon these seven years, I being +now in my forty-eighth.” + + WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. + +“I have understood that the god of poetry is in the enjoyment of eternal +youth; I was ignorant that his sons were.” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“No, child! we are hale and comely, but must go the way of all flesh.” + + WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. + +“Must it, can it, be?” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“Time was, my smallest gifts were acceptable, as thus recorded:— + + “From my fair hand, O will ye, will ye + Deign humbly to accept a gilly- + Flower for thy bosom, sugared maid! + + “Scarce had I said it ere she took it, + And in a twinkling, faith! had stuck it, + Where e’en proud knighthood might have laid.” + +William was now quite unable to contain himself, and seemed utterly to +have forgotten the grievous charge against him; to such a pitch did his +joy o’erleap his jeopardy. + +Master Silas in the meantime was much disquieted; and first did he strip +away all the white feather from every pen in the inkpot, and then did he +mend them, one and all, and then did he slit them with his thumb-nail, +and then did he pare and slash away at them again and then did he cut off +the tops, until at last he left upon them neither nib nor plume, nor +enough of the middle to serve as quill to a virginal. It went to my +heart to see such a power of pens so wasted; there could not be fewer +than five. Sir Thomas was less wary than usual, being overjoyed. For +great poets do mightly affect to have little poets under them; and little +poets do forget themselves in great company, as fiddlers do, who _hail +fellow well met_ even with lords. + +Sir Thomas did not interrupt our Bill’s wild gladness. I never thought +so worshipful a personage could bear so much. At last he said unto the +lad,— + +“I do bethink me, if thou hearest much more of my poetry, and the success +attendant thereon, good Doctor Glaston would tear thy skirt off ere he +could drag thee back from the occupation.” + + WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. + +“I fear me, for once, all his wisdom would sluice out in vain.” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“It was reported to me that when our virgin queen’s highness (her Dear +Dread’s {157a} ear not being then poisoned) heard these verses, she said +before her courtiers, to the sore travail of some, and heart’s content of +others,— + +“‘We need not envy our young cousin James of Scotland his ass’s bite of a +thistle, having such flowers as these gillyflowers on the chimney-stacks +of Charlecote.’ + +“I could have told her highness that all this poetry, from beginning to +end, was real matter of fact, well and truly spoken by mine own self. I +had only to harness the rhymes thereunto, at my leisure.” + + WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. + +“None could ever doubt it. Greeks and Trojans may fight for the quince; +neither shall have it + + While a Warwickshire lad + Is on earth to be had, + With a wand to wag + On a trusty nag, + He shall keep the lists + With cudgel or fists. + And black shall be whose eye + Looks evil on Lucy.” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“Nay, nay, nay! do not trespass too soon upon heroics. Thou seest thou +canst not hold thy wind beyond eight lines. What wouldst thou do under +the heavy mettle that should have wrought such wonders at Pavia, if thou +findest these petards so troublesome in discharging? Surely, the good +doctor, had he entered at large on the subject, would have been very +particular in urging this expostulation.” + + WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. + +“Sir, to my mortification I must confess that I took to myself the +counsel he was giving to another; a young gentleman who, from his pale +face, his abstinence at table, his cough, his taciturnity, and his +gentleness, seemed already more than half poet. To him did Doctor +Glaston urge, with all his zeal and judgment, many arguments against the +vocation; telling him that, even in college, he had few applauders, being +the first, and not the second or third, who always are more fortunate; +reminding him that he must solicit and obtain much interest with men of +rank and quality, before he could expect their favour; and that without +it the vein chilled, the nerve relaxed, and the poet was left at next +door to the bellman. ‘In the coldness of the world,’ said he, ‘in the +absence of ready friends and adherents, to light thee upstairs to the +richly tapestried chamber of the muses, thy spirits will abandon thee, +thy heart will sicken and swell within thee; overladen, thou wilt make, O +Ethelbert! a slow and painful progress, and ere the door open, sink. +Praise giveth weight unto the wanting, and happiness giveth elasticity +unto the heavy. As the mightiest streams of the unexplored world, +America, run languidly in the night, {159a} and await the sun on high to +contend with him in strength and grandeur, so doth genius halt and pause +in the thraldom of outspread darkness, and move onward with all his +vigour then only when creative light and jubilant warmth surround him.’ + +“Ethelbert coughed faintly; a tinge of red, the size of a rose-bud, +coloured the middle of his cheek; and yet he seemed not to be pained by +the reproof. He looked fondly and affectionately at his teacher, who +thus proceeded: + +“‘My dear youth, do not carry the stone of Sisyphus on thy shoulder to +pave the way to disappointment. If thou writest but indifferent poetry +none will envy thee, and some will praise thee; but nature, in her +malignity, hath denied unto thee a capacity for the enjoyment of such +praise. In this she hath been kinder to most others than to thee; we +know wherein she hath been kinder to thee than to most others. If thou +writest good poetry many will call it flat, many will call it obscure, +many will call it inharmonious; and some of these will speak as they +think; for, as in giving a feast to great numbers, it is easier to +possess the wine than to procure the cups, so happens it in poetry; thou +hast the beverage of thy own growth, but canst not find the recipients. +What is simple and elegant to thee and me, to many an honest man is flat +and sterile; what to us is an innocently sly allusion, to as worthy a one +as either of us is dull obscurity; and that moreover which swims upon our +brain, and which throbs against our temples, and which we delight in +sounding to ourselves when the voice has done with it, touches their ear, +and awakens no harmony in any cell of it. Rivals will run up to thee and +call thee a plagiary, and, rather than that proof should be wanting, +similar words to some of thine will be thrown in thy teeth out of +Leviticus and Deuteronomy. + +“‘Do you desire calm studies? Do you desire high thoughts? Penetrate +into theology. What is nobler than to dissect and discern the opinions +of the gravest men upon the subtlest matters? And what glorious +victories are those over Infidelity and Scepticism! How much loftier, +how much more lasting in their effects, than such as ye are invited unto +by what this ingenious youth hath contemptuously and truly called + + “The swaggering drum, and trumpet hoarse with rage.” + +And what a delightful and edifying sight it is, to see hundreds of the +most able doctors, all stripped for the combat, each closing with his +antagonist, and tugging and tearing, tooth and nail, to lay down and +establish truths which have been floating in the air for ages, and which +the lower order of mortals are forbidden to see, and commanded to +embrace. And then the shouts of victory! And then the crowns of +amaranth held over their heads by the applauding angels! Besides, these +combats have other great and distinct advantages. Whereas, in the +carnal, the longer ye contend the more blows do ye receive; in these +against Satan, the more fiercely and pertinaciously ye drive at him, the +slacker do ye find him; every good hit makes him redden and rave with +anger, but diminishes its effect. + +“‘My dear friends, who would not enter a service in which he may give +blows to his mortal enemy, and receive none; and in which not only the +eternal gain is incalculable, but also the temporal, at four-and-twenty, +may be far above the emolument of generals, who, before the priest was +born, had bled profusely for their country, established her security, +brightened her glory, and augmented her dominions?’” + +At this pause did Sir Thomas turn unto Sir Silas, and asked,— + +“What sayest thou, Silas?” + +Whereupon did Sir Silas make answer,— + +“I say it is so, and was so, and should be so, and shall be so. If the +queen’s brother had not sopped the priests and bishops out of the +Catholic cup, they could have held the Catholic cup in their own hands, +instead of yielding it into his. They earned their money; if they sold +their consciences for it, the business is theirs, not ours. I call this +facing the devil with a vengeance. We have their coats; no matter who +made ’em,—we have ’em, I say, and we will wear ’em; and not a button, +tag, or tassel, shall any man tear away.” + +Sir Thomas then turned to Willy, and requested him to proceed with the +doctor’s discourse, who thereupon continued:— + +“‘Within your own recollections, how many good, quiet, inoffensive men, +unendowed with any extraordinary abilities, have been enabled, by means +of divinity, to enjoy a long life in tranquillity and affluence?’ + +“Whereupon did one of the young gentlemen smile, and, on small +encouragement from Doctor Glaston to enounce the cause thereof, he +repeated these verses, which he gave afterward unto me:— + + “‘In the names on our books + Was standing Tom Flooke’s, + Who took in due time his degrees; + Which when he had taken, + Like Ascham or Bacon, + By night he could snore and by day he could sneeze. + + “‘Calm, pithy, pragmatical, {164a} + Tom Flooke he could at a call + Rise up like a hound from his sleep; + And if many a quarto + He gave not his heart to, + If pellucid in lore, in his cups he was deep. + + “‘He never did harm, + And his heart might be warm, + For his doublet most certainly was so; + And now has Torn Flooke + A quieter nook + Than ever had Spenser or Tasso. + + “‘He lives in his house, + As still as a mouse, + Until he has eaten his dinner; + But then doth his nose + Outroar all the woes + That encompass the death of a sinner. + + “‘And there oft has been seen + No less than a dean + To tarry a week in the parish, + In October and March, + When deans are less starch, + And days are less gleamy and garish. + + “‘That Sunday Tom’s eyes + Look’d always more wise, + He repeated more often his text; + Two leaves stuck together, + (The fault of the weather) + And . . . _the rest ye shall hear in my next_. + + “‘At mess he lost quite + His small appetite, + By losing his friend the good dean; + The cook’s sight must fail her! + The eggs sure are staler! + The beef, too!—why, what can it mean? + + “‘He turned off the butcher, + To the cook could he clutch her, + What his choler had done there’s no saying— + ’T is verily said + He smote low the cock’s head, + And took other pullets for laying.’ + +“On this being concluded, Doctor Glaston said he shrewdly suspected an +indigestion on the part of Mr. Thomas Flooke, caused by sitting up late +and studying hard with Mr. Dean; and he protested that theology itself +should not carry us into the rawness of the morning air, particularly in +such critical months as March and October, in one of which the sap rises, +in the other sinks, and there are many stars very sinister.” + +Sir Thomas shook his head, and declared he would not be uncharitable to +rector, or dean, or doctor, but that certain surmises swam uppermost. He +then winked at Master Silas, who said, incontinently,— + +“You have it, Sir Thomas! The blind buzzards! with their stars and +saps!” + +“Well, but Silas! you yourself have told us over and over again, in +church, that there are _arcana_.” + +“So there are,—I uphold it,” replied Master Silas; “but a fig for the +greater part, and a fig-leaf for the rest. As for these signs, they are +as plain as any page in the Revelation.” + +Sir Thomas, after short pondering, said, scoffingly,— + +“In regard to the rawness of the air having any effect whatsoever on +those who discourse orthodoxically on theology, it is quite as absurd as +to imagine that a man ever caught cold in a Protestant church. I am +rather of opinion that it was a judgment on the rector for his +evil-mindedness toward the cook, the Lord foreknowing that he was about +to be wilful and vengeful in that quarter. It was, however, more +advisedly that he took other pullets, on his own view of the case, +although it might be that the same pullets would suit him again as well +as ever, when his appetite should return; for it doth not appear that +they were loath to lay, but laid somewhat unsatisfactorily. + +“Now, youth,” continued his worship, “if in our clemency we should spare +thy life, study this higher elegiacal strain which thou hast carried with +thee from Oxford; it containeth, over and above an unusual store of +biography, much sound moral doctrine, for those who are heedful in the +weighing of it. And what can be more affecting than— + + ‘At mess he lost quite + His small appetite, + By losing his friend the good dean’? + +And what an insight into character! Store it up; store it up! _Small +appetite_, particular; _good dean_, generick.” + +Hereupon did Master Silas jerk me with his indicative joint, the elbow to +wit, and did say in my ear,— + +“He means _deanery_. Give me one of those bones so full of marrow, and +let my lord bishop have all the meat over it, and welcome. If a dean is +not on his stilts, he is not on his stumps; he stands on his own ground; +he is a _noli-metangeretarian_.” + +“What art thou saying of those sectaries, good Master Silas?” quoth Sir +Thomas, not hearing him distinctly. + +“I was talking of the dean,” replied Master Silas. “He was the very dean +who wrote and sang that song called the _Two Jacks_.” + +“Hast it?” asked he. + +Master Silas shook his head, and, trying in vain to recollect it, said at +last,— + +“After dinner it sometimes pops out of a filbert-shell in a crack; and I +have known it float on the first glass of Herefordshire cider; it also +hath some affinity with very stiff and old bottled beer; but in a morning +it seemeth unto me like a remnant of over-night.” + +“Our memory waneth, Master Silas!” quoth Sir Thomas, looking seriously. +“If thou couldst repeat it, without the grimace of singing, it were not +ill.” + +Master Silas struck the table with his fist, and repeated the first stave +angrily; but in the second he forgot the admonition of Sir Thomas, and +did sing outright,— + + “Jack Calvin and Jack Cade, + Two gentles of one trade, + Two tinkers, + Very gladly would pull down + Mother Church and Father Crown, + And would starve or would drown + Right thinkers. + + “Honest man! honest man! + Fill the can, fill the can, + They are coming! they are coming! they are coming! + If any drop be left, + It might tempt ’em to a theft— + Zooks! it was only the ale that was humming.” + +“In the first stave, gramercy! there is an awful verity,” quoth Sir +Thomas; “but I wonder that a dean should let his skewer slip out, and his +fat catch fire so wofully, in the second. Light stuff, Silas, fit only +for ale-houses.” + +Master Silas was nettled in the nose, and answered,— + +“Let me see the man in Warwickshire, and in all the counties round, who +can run at such a rate with so light a feather in the palm of his hand. +I am no poet, thank God! but I know what folks can do, and what folks +cannot do.” + +“Well, Silas,” replied Sir Thomas, “after thy thanksgiving for being no +poet, let us have the rest of the piece.” + +“The rest!” quoth Master Silas. “When the ale hath done with its +humming, it is time, methinks, to dismiss it. Sir, there never was any +more; you might as well ask for more after Amen or the see of +Canterbury.” + +Sir Thomas was dissatisfied, and turned off the discourse; and +peradventure he grew more inclined to be gracious unto Willy from the +slight rub his chaplain had given him, were it only for the contrariety. +When he had collected his thoughts he was determined to assert his +supremacy on the score of poetry. + +“Deans, I perceive, like other quality,” said he, “cannot run on long +together. My friend, Sir Everard Starkeye, could never overleap four +bars. I remember but one composition of his, on a young lady who mocked +at his inconsistency, in calling her sometimes his Grace and at other +times his Muse. + + ‘My Grace shall Fanny Carew be, + While here she deigns to stay; + And (ah, how sad the change for me!) + My Muse when far away!’ + +And when we laughed at him for turning his back upon her after the fourth +verse, all he could say for himself was, that he would rather a game at +_all fours_ with Fanny, than _ombre_ and _picquet_ with the finest +furbelows in Christendom. Men of condition do usually want a belt in the +course.” + +Whereunto said Master Silas,— + +“Men out of condition are quite as liable to lack it, methinks.” + +“Silas! Silas!” replied the knight, impatiently, “prithee keep to thy +divinity, thy strong hold upon Zion; thence none that faces thee can draw +thee without being bitten to the bone. Leave poetry to me.” + +“With all my heart,” quoth Master Silas, “I will never ask a belt from +her, until I see she can afford to give a shirt. She has promised a +belt, indeed,—not one, however, that doth much improve the wind,—to this +lad here, and will keep her word; but she was forced to borrow the +pattern from a Carthusian friar, and somehow it slips above the +shoulder.” + +“I am by no means sure of that,” quoth Sir Thomas. “He shall have fair +play. He carrieth in his mind many valuable things, whereof it hath +pleased Providence to ordain him the depository. He hath laid before us +certain sprigs of poetry from Oxford, trim as pennyroyal, and larger +leaves of household divinity, the most mildly-savoured,—pleasant in +health and wholesome in sickness.” + +“I relish not such mutton-broth divinity,” said Master Silas. “It makes +me sick in order to settle my stomach.” + +“We may improve it,” said the knight, “but first let us hear more.” + +Then did William Shakspeare resume Dr. Glaston’s discourse. + +“‘Ethelbert! I think thou walkest but little; otherwise I should take +thee with me, some fine fresh morning, as far as unto the first hamlet on +the Cherwell. There lies young Wellerby, who, the year before, was wont +to pass many hours of the day poetising amid the ruins of Godstow +nunnery. It is said that he bore a fondness toward a young maiden in +that place, formerly a village, now containing but two old farm-houses. +In my memory there were still extant several dormitories. Some love-sick +girl had recollected an ancient name, and had engraven on a stone with a +garden-nail, which lay in rust near it,— + + “POORE ROSAMUND.” + +I entered these precincts, and beheld a youth of manly form and +countenance, washing and wiping a stone with a handful of wet grass; and +on my going up to him, and asking what he had found, he shewed it to me. +The next time I saw him was near the banks of the Cherwell. He had +tried, it appears, to forget or overcome his foolish passion, and had +applied his whole mind unto study. He was foiled by his competitor; and +now he sought consolation in poetry. Whether this opened the wounds that +had closed in his youthful breast, and malignant Love, in his revenge, +poisoned it; or whether the disappointment he had experienced in finding +others preferred to him, first in the paths of fortune, then in those of +the muses,—he was thought to have died broken-hearted. + +“‘About half a mile from St. John’s College is the termination of a +natural terrace, with the Cherwell close under it, in some places bright +with yellow and red flowers glancing and glowing through the stream, and +suddenly in others dark with the shadows of many different trees, in +broad, overbending thickets, and with rushes spear-high, and +party-coloured flags. + +“‘After a walk in Midsummer, the emersion of our hands into the cool and +closing grass is surely not the least among our animal delights. I was +just seated, and the first sensation of rest vibrated in me gently, as +though it were music to the limbs, when I discovered by a hollow in the +herbage that another was near. The long meadow-sweet and blooming burnet +half concealed from me him whom the earth was about to hide totally and +for ever. + +“‘Master Batchelor,’ said I, ‘it is ill-sleeping by the water-side.’ + +“‘No answer was returned. I arose, went to the place, and recognised +poor Wellerby. His brow was moist, his cheek was warm. A few moments +earlier, and that dismal lake whereunto and wherefrom the waters of life, +the buoyant blood, ran no longer, might have received one vivifying ray +reflected from my poor casement. I might not indeed have comforted—I +have often failed; but there is one who never has; and the strengthener +of the bruised reed should have been with us. + +“‘Remembering that his mother did abide one mile further on, I walked +forward to the mansion, and asked her what tidings she lately had +received of her son. She replied that, having given up his mind to light +studies, the fellows of the college would not elect him. The master had +warned him beforehand to abandon his selfish poetry, take up manfully the +quarterstaff of logic, and wield it for St. John’s, come who would into +the ring. “‘We want our man,’” said he to me, “‘and your son hath failed +us in the hour of need. Madam, he hath been foully beaten in the schools +by one he might have swallowed, with due exercise.’” + +“‘“I rated him, told him I was poor, and he knew it. He was stung, and +threw himself upon my neck, and wept. Twelve days have passed since, and +only three rainy ones. I hear he has been seen upon the knoll yonder; +but hither he hath not come. I trust he knows at last the value of time, +and I shall be heartily glad to see him after this accession of +knowledge. Twelve days, it is true, are rather a chink than a gap in +time; yet, O gentle sir, they are that chink which makes the vase quite +valueless. There are light words which may never be shaken off the mind +they fall on. My child, who was hurt by me, will not let me see the +marks.” + +“‘“Lady,” said I, “none are left upon him. Be comforted! thou shalt see +him this hour. All that thy God hath not taken is yet thine.” She +looked at me earnestly, and would have then asked something, but her +voice failed her. There was no agony, no motion, save in the lips and +cheeks. Being the widow of one who fought under Hawkins, she remembered +his courage and sustained the shock, saying calmly, “God’s will be done! +I pray that he find me as worthy as he findeth me willing to join them.” + +“‘Now, in her unearthly thoughts she had led her only son to the bosom of +her husband; and in her spirit (which often is permitted to pass the +gates of death with holy love) she left them both with their Creator. + +“‘The curate of the village sent those who should bring home the body; +and some days afterward he came unto me, beseeching me to write the +epitaph. Being no friend to stonecutters’ charges, I entered not into +biography, but wrote these few words:— + + JOANNES WELLERBY, + LITERARUM QUÆSIVIT GLORIAM, + VIDET DEI.’” + +“Poor tack! poor tack!” sourly quoth Master Silas. “If your wise doctor +could say nothing more about the fool, who died like a rotten sheep among +the darnels, his Latin might have held out for the father, and might have +told people he was as cool as a cucumber at home, and as hot as pepper in +battle. Could he not find room enough on the whinstone, to tell the +folks of the village how he played the devil among the dons, burning +their fingers when they would put thumbscrews upon us, punching them in +the weasand as a blacksmith punches a horse-shoe, and throwing them +overboard like bilgewater? + +“Has Oxford lost all her Latin? Here is no _capitani filius_; no more +mention of family than a Welchman would have allowed him; no _hîc jacet_; +and, worse than all, the devil a tittle of _spe redemptionis_, or _anno +Domini_.” + +“Willy!” quoth Sir Thomas, “I shrewdly do suspect there was more, and +that thou hast forgotten it.” + +“Sir!” answered Willy, “I wrote not down the words, fearing to mis-spell +them, and begged them of the doctor, when I took my leave of him on the +morrow; and verily he wrote down all he had repeated. I keep them always +in the tin-box in my waistcoat-pocket, among the eel-hooks, on a scrap of +paper a finger’s length and breadth, folded in the middle to fit. And +when the eels are running, I often take it out and read it before I am +aware. I could as soon forget my own epitaph as this.” + +“Simpleton!” said Sir Thomas, with his gentle, compassionate smile; “but +thou hast cleared thyself.” + + SIR SILAS. + +“I think the doctor gave one idle chap as much solid pudding as he could +digest, with a slice to spare for another.” + + WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. + +“And yet after this pudding the doctor gave him a spoonful of custard, +flavoured with a little bitter, which was mostly left at the bottom for +the other idle chap.” + +Sir Thomas not only did endure this very goodnaturedly, but deigned even +to take in good part the smile upon my countenance, as though he were a +smile collector, and as though his estate were so humble that he could +hold his laced bonnet (in all his bravery) for bear and fiddle. + +He then said unto Willy, + +“Place likewise this custard before us.” + +“There is but little of it; the platter is shallow,” replied he; “’t was +suited to Master Ethelbert’s appetite. The contents were these: + +“‘The things whereon thy whole soul brooded in its innermost recesses, +and with all its warmth and energy, will pass unprized and unregarded, +not only throughout thy lifetime but long after. For the higher beauties +of poetry are beyond the capacity, beyond the vision of almost all. Once +perhaps in half a century a single star is discovered, then named and +registered, then mentioned by five studious men to five more; at last +some twenty say, or repeat in writing, what they have heard about it. +Other stars await other discoveries. Few and solitary and wide asunder +are those who calculate their relative distances, their mysterious +influences, their glorious magnitude, and their stupendous height. ’T is +so, believe me, and ever was so, with the truest and best poetry. Homer, +they say, was blind; he might have been ere he died,—that he sat among +the blind, we are sure. + +“‘Happy they who, like this young lad from Stratford, write poetry on the +saddle-bow when their geldings are jaded, and keep the desk for better +purposes.’ + +“The young gentlemen, like the elderly, all turned their faces toward me, +to my confusion, so much did I remark of sneer and scoff at my cost. +Master Ethelbert was the only one who spared me. He smiled and said,— + +“‘Be patient! From the higher heavens of poetry, it is long before the +radiance of the brightest star can reach the world below. We hear that +one man finds out one beauty, another man finds out another, placing his +observatory and instruments on the poet’s grave. The worms must have +eaten us before it is rightly known what we are. It is only when we are +skeletons that we are boxed and ticketed, and prized and shewn. Be it +so! I shall not be tired of waiting.’” + +“Reasonable youth!” said Sir Thomas; “yet both he and Glaston walk rather +_a-straddle_, methinks. They might have stepped up to thee more +straightforwardly, and told thee the trade ill suiteth thee, having +little fire, little fantasy, and little learning. Furthermore, that one +poet, as one bull, sufficeth for two parishes, and that where they are +stuck too close together they are apt to fire, like haystacks. I have +known it myself; I have had my malignants and scoffers.” + + WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. + +“I never could have thought it!” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“There again! Another proof of thy inexperience.” + + WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. + +“Mat Atterend! Mat Atterend! where wert thou sleeping?” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“I shall now from my own stores impart unto thee what will avail to tame +thee, shewing the utter hopelessness of standing on that golden +weathercock which supporteth but one at a time. + +“The passion for poetry wherewith Monsieur Dubois would have inspired me, +as he was bound to do, being paid beforehand, had cold water thrown upon +it by that unlucky one, Sir Everard. He ridiculed the idea of male and +female rhymes, and the necessity of trying them as rigidly by the eye as +by the ear,—saying to Monsieur Dubois that the palate, in which the +French excel all mortals, ought also to be consulted in their acceptance +or rejection. Monsieur Dubois told us that if we did not wish to be +taught French verse, he would teach us English. Sir Everard preferred +the Greek; but Monsieur Dubois would not engage to teach the mysteries of +that poetry in fewer than thirty lessons,—having (since his misfortunes) +forgotten the letters and some other necessaries. + +“The first poem I ever wrote was in the character of a shepherd, to +Mistress Anne Nanfan, daughter of Squire Fulke Nanfan, of Worcestershire, +at that time on a visit to the worshipful family of Compton at Long +Compton. + +“We were young creatures,—I but twenty-four and seven months (for it was +written on the 14th of May), and she well-nigh upon a twelve-month +younger. My own verses, the first, are neither here nor there; indeed, +they were imbedded in solid prose, like lampreys and ram’s-horns {181a} +in our limestone, and would be hard to get out whole. What they are may +be seen by her answer, all in verse:— + + “‘Faithful shepherd! dearest Tommy! + I have received the letter from ye, + And mightily delight therein. + But mother, _she_ says, “Nanny! Nanny! + _How_, _being staid and prudent_, _can ye_ + _Think of a man and not of sin_?” + + “‘Sir shepherd! I held down my head, + And “_Mother_! _fie_, _for shame_!” I said; + All I could say would not content her; + Mother she would for ever harp on’t, + “_A man’s no better than a sarpent_, + _And not a crumb more innocenter_.”’ + +“I know not how it happeneth; but a poet doth open before a poet, albeit +of baser sort. It is not that I hold my poetry to be better than some +other in time past, it is because I would shew thee that I was virtuous +and wooed virtuously, that I repeat it. Furthermore, I wished to leave a +deep impression on the mother’s mind that she was exceedingly wrong in +doubting my innocence.” + + WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. + +“Gracious Heaven! and was this too doubted?” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“Maybe not; but the whole race of men, the whole male sex, wanted and +found in me a protector. I shewed her what I was ready to do.” + + WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. + +“Perhaps, sir, it was for that very thing that she put the daughter back +and herself forward.” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“I say not so; but thou mayest know as much as befitteth, by what +follows:— + + “‘Worshipful lady! honoured madam! + I at this present truly glad am + To have so fair an opportunity + Of saying I would be the man + To bind in wedlock Mistress Anne, + Living with her in holy unity. + + “‘And for a jointure I will gi’e her + A good two hundred pounds a year + Accruing from my landed rents, + Whereof see t’other paper, telling + Lands, copses, and grown woods for felling, + Capons, and cottage tenements. + + “‘And who must come at sound of horn, + And who pays but a barley-corn, + And who is bound to keep a whelp, + And what is brought me for the pound, + And copyholders, which are sound, + And which do need the leech’s help. + + “‘And you may see in these two pages + Exact their illnesses and ages, + Enough (God willing) to content ye; + Who looks full red, who looks full yellow, + Who plies the mullen, who the mallow, + Who fails at fifty, who at twenty. + + “‘Jim Yates must go; he’s one day very hot, + And one day ice; I take a heriot; + And poorly, poorly’s Jacob Burgess. + The doctor tells me he has pour’d + Into his stomach half his hoard + Of anthelminticals and purges. + + “‘Judith, the wife of Ebenezer + Fillpots, won’t have him long to tease her; + Fillpots blows hot and cold like Jim, + And, sleepless lest the boys should plunder + His orchard, he must soon knock under; + Death has been looking out for him. + + “‘He blusters; but his good yard land + Under the church, his ale-house, and + His Bible, which he cut in spite, + Must all fall in; he stamps and swears + And sets his neighbours by the ears— + Fillpots, thy saddle sits not tight!’ + +“The epitaph is ready:— + + “‘_Here_ + _Lies one whom all his friends did fear_ + _More than they ever feared the Lord_; + _In peace he was at times a Christian_; + _In strife_, _what stubborner Philistine_! + _Sing_, _sing his psalm with one accord_. + + “‘And he who lent my lord his wife + Has but a very ticklish life; + Although she won him many a hundred, + ’T won’t do; none comes with briefs and wills, + And all her gainings are gilt pills + From the sick madman that she plundered. + + “‘And the brave lad who sent the bluff + Olive-faced Frenchman (sure enough) + Screaming and scouring like a plover, + Must follow—him I mean who dash’d + Into the water and then thrash’d + The cullion past the town of Dover. + + “‘But first there goes the blear old dame + Who nurs’d me; you have heard her name, + No doubt, at Compton, Sarah Salways; + There are twelve groats at once, beside + The frying-pan in which she fried + Her pancakes. + + Madam, I am always, etc., + + Sir THOMAS LUCY, Knight.’ + +“I did believe that such a clear and conscientious exposure of my affairs +would have brought me a like return. My letter was sent back to me with +small courtesy. It may be there was no paper in the house, or none +equalling mine in whiteness. No notice was taken of the rent-roll; but +between the second and third stanza these four lines were written, in a +very fine hand:— + + “‘Most honour’d knight, Sir Thomas! two + For merry Nan will never do; + Now under favour let me say ’t, + She will bring more herself than that.’ + +I have reason to believe that the worthy lady did neither write nor +countenance the same, perhaps did not ever know of them. She always had +at her elbow one who jogged it when he listed, and although he could not +overrule the daughter, he took especial care that none other should +remove her from his tutelage, even when she had fairly grown up to +woman’s estate. + +“Now, after all this condescension and confidence, promise me, good lad, +promise that thou wilt not edge and elbow me. Never let it be said, when +people say, _Sir Thomas was a poet when he will edit_,—_So is Bill +Shakspeare_! It beseemeth not that our names do go together cheek by +jowl in this familiar fashion, like an old beagle and a whelp, in +couples, where if the one would, the other would not.” + + SIR SILAS. + +“Sir, while these thoughts are passing in your mind, remember there is +another pair of couples out of which it would be as well to keep the +cur’s neck.” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“Young man! dost thou understand Master Silas?” + + WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. + +“But too well. Not those couples in which it might be apprehended that +your worship and my unworthiness should appear too close together; but +those sorrowfuller which peradventure might unite Master Silas and me in +our road to Warwick and upwards. But I resign all right and title unto +these as willingly as I did unto the other, and am as ready to let him go +alone.” + + SIR SILAS. + +“If we keep wheeling and wheeling, like a flock of pigeons, and rising +again when we are within a foot of the ground, we shall never fill the +craw.” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“Do thou then question him, Silas.” + + SIR SILAS. + +“I am none of the quorum; the business is none of mine.” + +Then Sir Thomas took Master Silas again into the bay window, and said +softly,— + +“Silas, he hath no inkling of thy meaning. The business is a ticklish +one. I like not overmuch to meddle and make therein.” + +Master Silas stood dissatisfied awhile, and then answered,— + +“The girl’s mother, sir, was housemaid and sempstress in your own family, +time back, and you thereby have a right over her unto the third and +fourth generation.” + +“I may have, Silas,” said his worship, “but it was no longer than four or +five years agone that folks were fain to speak maliciously of me for only +finding my horse in her hovel.” + +Sir Silas looked red and shiny as a ripe strawberry on a Snitterfield +tile, and answered somewhat peevishly,— + +“The same folks, I misgive me, may find the rogue’s there any night in +the week.” + +Whereunto replied Sir Thomas, mortifiedly, + +“I cannot think it, Silas! I cannot think it.” + +And after some hesitation and disquiet,— + +“Nay, I am resolved I will not think it; no man, friend or enemy, shall +push it into me.” + +“Worshipful sir,” answered Master Silas, “I am as resolute as any one in +what I would think and what I would not think, and never was known to +fight dunghill in either cockpit. + +“Were he only out of the way, she might do duty, but what doth she now? + +“She points his young beard for him; persuading him it grows thicker and +thicker, blacker and blacker; she washes his ruff, stiffens it, plaits +it, tries it upon his neck, removes the hair from under it, pinches it +with thumb and fore-finger, pretending that he hath moiled it, puts her +hand all the way round it, _setting it to rights_, as she calleth it— + +“Ah, Sir Thomas! a louder whistle than that will never call her back +again when she is off with him.” + +Sir Thomas was angered, and cried tartly,— + +“Who whistled? I would know.” + +Master Silas said submissively,— + +“Your honour, as wrongfully I fancied.” + +“Wrongfully, indeed, and to my no small disparagement and discomfort,” +said the knight, verily believing that he had not whistled; for deep and +dubious were his cogitations. + +“I protest,” went he on to say, “I protest it was the wind of the +casement; and if I live another year I will put a better in the place of +it. Whistle indeed—for what? I care no more about her than about an +unfledged cygnet,—a child, {189a} a chicken, a mere kitten, a +crab-blossom in the hedge.” + +The dignity of his worship was wounded by Master Silas unaware, and his +wrath again turned suddenly upon poor William. + +“Hark-ye, knave! hark-ye again, ill-looking stripling, lanky from vicious +courses! I will reclaim thee from them; I will do what thy own father +would, and cannot. Thou shalt follow his business.” + +“I cannot do better, may it please your worship!” said the lad. + +“It shall lead thee unto wealth and respectability,” said the knight, +somewhat appeased by his ready compliancy and low, gentle voice. “Yea, +but not here,—no witches, no wantons (this word fell gravely and at +full-length upon the ear), no spells hereabout. + +“Gloucestershire is within a measured mile of thy dwelling. There is one +at Bristol, formerly a parish-boy, or little better, who now writeth +himself _gentleman_ in large, round letters, and hath been elected, I +hear, to serve as burgess in parliament for his native city; just as +though he had eaten a capon or turkey-poult in his youth, and had +actually been at grammar school and college. When he began, he had not +credit for a goat-skin; and now, behold ye! this very coat upon my back +did cost me eight shillings the dearer for him, he bought up wool so +largely.” + + WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. + +“May it please your worship! if my father so ordereth, I go cheerfully.” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“Thou art grown discreet and dutiful. I am fain to command thy release, +taking thy promise on oath, and some reasonable security, that thou wilt +abstain and withhold in future from that idle and silly slut, that sly +and scoffing giggler, Hannah Hathaway, with whom, to the heartache of thy +poor, worthy father, thou wantonly keepest company.” + +Then did Sir Thomas ask Master Silas Gough for the Book of Life, bidding +him deliver it into the right hand of Billy, with an eye upon him that he +touch it with both lips,—it being taught by the Jesuits, and caught too +greedily out of their society and communion, that whoso toucheth it with +one lip only, and thereafter sweareth falsely, cannot be called a +perjurer, since perjury is breaking an oath. But breaking half an oath, +as he doth who toucheth the Bible or crucifix with one lip only, is no +more perjury than breaking an eggshell is breaking an egg, the shell +being a part, and the egg being an integral. + +William did take the Holy Book with all due reverence the instant it was +offered to his hand. His stature seemed to rise therefrom as from a +pulpit, and Sir Thomas was quite edified. + +“Obedient and conducible youth!” said he. “See there, Master Silas! what +hast thou now to say against him? Who sees farthest?” + +“The man from the gallows is the most likely, bating his nightcap and +blinker,” said Master Silas, peevishly. “He hath not outwitted me yet.” + +“He seized upon the Anchor of Faith like a martyr,” said Sir Thomas, “and +even now his face burns red as elder-wine before the gossips.” + + WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. + +“I await the further orders of your worship from the chair.” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“I return and seat myself.” + +And then did Sir Thomas say with great complacency and satisfaction in +the ear of Master Silas,— + +“What civility, and deference, and sedateness of mind, Silas!” + +But Master Silas answered not. + + WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. + +“Must I swear, sirs?” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“Yea, swear; be of good courage. I protest to thee by my honour and +knighthood, no ill shall come unto thee therefrom. Thou shalt not be +circumvented in thy simpleness and inexperience.” + +Willy, having taken the Book of Life, did kiss it piously, and did press +it unto his breast, saying, + +“Tenderest love is the growth of my heart, as the grass is of Alvescote +mead. + +“May I lose my life or my friends, or my memory, or my reason; may I be +viler in my own eyes than those men are—” + +Here he was interrupted, most lovingly, by Sir Thomas, who said unto +him,— + +“Nay, nay, nay! poor youth! do not tell me so! they are not such very bad +men, since thou appealest unto Cæsar,—that is, unto the judgment-seat.” + +Now his worship did mean the two witnesses, Joseph and Euseby; and, sooth +to say there be many worse. But William had them not in his eye; his +thoughts were elsewhere, as will be evident, for he went on thus:— + +“—if ever I forget or desert thee, or ever cease to worship {193a} and +cherish thee, my Hannah!” + + SIR SILAS. + +“The madman! the audacious, desperate, outrageous villain! Look-ye, sir! +where he flung the Holy Gospel! Behold it on the holly and box boughs in +the chimney-place, spreaden all abroad, like a lad about to be whipped!” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“Miscreant knave! I will send after him forthwith! + +“Ho, there! is the caitiff at hand, or running off?” + +Jonas Greenfield the butler did budge forward after a while, and say, on +being questioned,— + +“Surely, that was he! Was his nag tied to the iron gate at the lodge, +Master Silas?” + + SIR SILAS. + +“What should I know about a thief’s nag, Jonas Greenfield?” + +“And didst thou let him go, Jonas,—even thou?” said Sir Thomas. “What! +are none found faithful?” + +“Lord love your worship,” said Jonas Greenfield; “a man of threescore and +two may miss catching a kite upon wing. Fleetness doth not make folks +the faithfuller, or that youth yonder beats us all in faithfulness. + +“Look! he darts on like a greyhound whelp after a leveret. He, sure +enough, it was! I now remember the sorrel mare his father bought of John +Kinderley last Lammas, swift as he threaded the trees along the park. He +must have reached Wellesbourne ere now at that gallop, and pretty nigh +Walton-hill.” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“Merciful Christ! grant the country be rid of him for ever! What +dishonour upon his friends and native town! A reputable wool-stapler’s +son turned gipsy and poet for life.” + + SIR SILAS. + +“A Beelzebub; he spake as bigly and fiercely as a soaken yeoman at an +election feast,—this obedient and conducible youth!” + + SIR THOMAS. + +“It was so written. Hold thy peace, Silas!” + + LAUS DEO. + + E. B. + + + +POST-SCRIPTUM +BY ME, EPHRAIM BARNETT. + + +Twelve days are over and gone since William Shakspeare did leave our +parts. And the spinster, Hannah Hathaway, is in sad doleful plight about +him; forasmuch as Master Silas Cough went yesterday unto her, in her +mother’s house at Shottery, and did desire both her and her mother to +take heed and be admonished, that if ever she, Hannah, threw away one +thought after the runagate William Shakspeare, he should swing. + +The girl could do nothing but weep; while as the mother did give her +solemn promise that her daughter should never more think about him all +her natural life, reckoning from the moment of this her promise. + +And the maiden, now growing more reasonable, did promise the same. But +Master Silas said, + +“_I doubt you will_, _though_.” + +“_No_,” said the mother, “_I answer for her she shall not think of him_, +_even if she see his ghost_.” + +Hannah screamed, and swooned, the better to forget him. And Master Silas +went home easier and contenteder. For now all the worst of his hard duty +was accomplished,—he having been, on the Wednesday of last week, at the +speech of Master John Shakspeare, Will’s father, to inquire whether the +sorrel mare was his. To which question the said Master John Shakspeare +did answer, “_Yea_.” + +“_Enough said_!” rejoined Master Silas. + +“_Horse-stealing is capital_. _We shall bind thee over to appear against +the culprit_, _as prosecutor_, _at the next assizes_.” + +May the Lord in his mercy give the lad a good deliverance, if so be it be +no sin to wish it! + +_October_ 1, A.D. 1582. + + LAUS DEO. + + + + +A CONFERENCE +OF +MASTER EDMUND SPENSER, +A GENTLEMAN OF NOTE, +WITH +THE EARL OF ESSEX, +TOUCHING +THE STATE OF IRELAND. + + + ANNO DOM. 1598. + + + +PREFACE. + + +TO the same worthy man who preserved the _Examination of Shakspeare_, we +are indebted for what he entitles on the cover, _A Conference of Master +Edmund Spenser_, _etc._, _with the Earl of Essex_. It must be confessed +that this Conference throws little light upon the great rebellion of +Ireland. Nevertheless, there are some curious minds, which perhaps may +take an interest in the conversation of two illustrious men, one +distinguished by his genius, the other by the favour of his sovereign. +The Editor, it will be perceived, is but little practised in the ways of +literature; much less is he gifted with that prophetic spirit which can +anticipate the judgment of the public. It may be that he is too idle or +too apathetic to think anxiously or much about the matter; and yet he has +been amused, in his earlier days, at watching the first appearance of +such few books as he believed to be the production of some powerful +intellect. He has seen people slowly rise up to them, like carp in a +pond when food is thrown among them; some of which carp snatch suddenly +at a morsel, and swallow it; others touch it gently with their barbe, +pass deliberately by, and leave it; others wriggle and rub against it +more disdainfully; others, in sober truth, know not what to make of it, +swim round and round it, eye it on the sunny side, eye it on the shady, +approach it, question it, shoulder it, flap it with the tail, turn it +over, look askance at it, take a pea-shell or a worm instead of it, and +plunge again their contented heads into the comfortable mud; after some +seasons the same food will suit their stomachs better. + +The Editor has seen all this, and been an actor in it, whether at +Chantilly or Fontainebleau is indifferent to the reader; and it has +occurred to him that Shakspeare and Spenser were thrown among such carp, +and began to be relished (the worst, of course, first) after many years. +He is certain that these two publications can interest only the antiquary +and biographer; enough if even such find their account in them. + + * * * * * + +IT happened by mere accident that so obscure a man as Ephraim Barnett, +with no peculiar zeal for genius, and with no other scope or intention +than a lesson for his descendants, has preserved an authentic memorial of +the principal event both in the life of Shakspeare and of Spenser; the +one event was very near the cause of terminating Shakspeare’s, the other +did terminate Spenser’s. He accounts for his knowledge of the facts +naturally enough, as those will readily admit who have the patience to +read his paper on the subject. It would be inhumane in the Editor to ask +any of it for himself, when it is about to undergo such an exertion. + + + +ESSEX AND SPENSER. + + + ESSEX. + +“INSTANTLY on hearing of thy arrival from Ireland I sent a message to +thee, good Edmund, that I might learn from one so judicious and +dispassionate as thou art, the real state of things in that distracted +country,—it having pleased the queen’s majesty to think of appointing me +her deputy, in order to bring the rebellious to submission.” + + SPENSER. + +“Wisely and well considered; but more worthily of her judgment than her +affection. May your lordship overcome, as you have ever done, the +difficulties and dangers you foresee.” + + ESSEX. + +“We grow weak by striking at random; and knowing that I must strike, and +strike heavily, I would fain see exactly where the stroke shall fall. + +“Some attribute to the Irish all sorts of excesses; others tell us that +these are old stories; that there is not a more inoffensive race of merry +creatures under heaven, and that their crimes are all hatched for them +here in England, by the incubation of printers’ boys, and are brought to +market at times of distressing dearth in news. From all that I myself +have seen of them, I can only say that the civilized (I mean the richer +and titled) are as susceptible of heat as iron, and as impenetrable to +light as granite. The half-barbarous are probably worse; the utterly +barbarous may be somewhat better. Like game-cocks, they must spur when +they meet. One fights because he fights an Englishman; another because +the fellow he quarrels with comes from a distant county; a third because +the next parish is an eyesore to him, and his fist-mate is from it. The +only thing in which they all agree as proper law is the tooth-for-tooth +act. Luckily we have a bishop who is a native, and we called him before +the queen. He represented to her majesty that every thing in Old Ireland +tended to re-produce its kind,—crimes among others; and he declared, +frankly, that if an honest man is murdered, or what is dearer to an +honest man, if his honour is wounded in the person of his wife, it must +be expected that he will retaliate. Her Majesty delivered it as her +opinion that the latter case of vindictiveness was more likely to take +effect than the former. But the bishop replied that in his conscience he +could not answer for either if the man was up. The dean of the same +diocese gave us a more favorable report. Being a justice of the peace, +he averred most solemnly that no man ever had complained to him of +murder, excepting one who had lost so many fore-teeth by a cudgel that +his deposition could not be taken exactly,—added to which, his head was a +little clouded with drunkenness; furthermore, that extremely few women +had adduced sufficiently clear proofs of violence, excepting those who +were wilful and resisted with tooth and nail. In all which cases it was +difficult, nay impossible, to ascertain which violence began first and +lasted longest. + +“There is not a nation upon earth that pretends to be so superlatively +generous and high-minded; and there is not one (I speak from experience) +so utterly base and venal. I have positive proof that the nobility, in a +mass, are agreed to sell, for a stipulated sum, all their rights and +privileges, so much per man; and the queen is inclined thereunto. But +would our parliament consent to pay money for a cargo of rotten +pilchards? And would not our captains be readier to swamp than to import +them? The noisiest rogues in that kingdom, if not quieted by a halter, +may be quieted by making them brief-collectors, and by allowing them +first to encourage the incendiary, then to denounce and hang him, and +lastly to collect all the money they can, running up and down with the +whining ferocity of half-starved hyenas, under pretence of repairing the +damages their exhausted country hath sustained. Others ask modestly a +few thousands a year, and no more, from those whom they represent to us +as naked and famished; and prove clearly to every dispassionate man who +hath a single drop of free blood in his veins that at least this pittance +is due to them for abandoning their liberal and lucrative professions, +and for endangering their valuable lives on the tempestuous seas, in +order that the voice of Truth may sound for once upon the shores of +England, and Humanity cast her shadow on the council-chamber. + +“I gave a dinner to a party of these fellows a few weeks ago. I know not +how many kings and princes were amongst them, nor how many poets, and +prophets, and legislators, and sages. When they were half-drunk, they +coaxed and threatened; when they had gone somewhat deeper, they joked, +and croaked, and hiccoughed, and wept over sweet Ireland; and when they +could neither stand nor sit any longer, they fell upon their knees and +their noddles, and swore that limbs, life, liberty, Ireland, and God +himself, were all at the queen’s service. It was only their holy +religion, the religion of their forefathers— Here sobs interrupted some, +howls others, execrations more, and the liquor they had ingulfed, the +rest. I looked down on them with stupor and astonishment, seeing faces, +forms, dresses, much like ours, and recollecting their ignorance, levity, +and ferocity. My pages drew them gently by the heels down the steps; my +grooms set them upright (inasmuch as might be) on their horses; and the +people in the streets, shouting and pelting, sent forward the beasts to +their straw. + +“Various plans have been laid before us for civilising or coercing them. +Among the pacific, it was proposed to make an offer to five-hundred of +the richer Jews in the Hanse-towns and in Poland, who should be raised to +the dignity of the Irish peerage, and endowed with four thousand acres of +good forfeited land, on condition of each paying two thousand pounds, and +of keeping up ten horsemen and twenty foot, Germans or Poles, in +readiness for service. + +“The Catholics bear no where such ill-will toward Jews as toward +Protestants. Brooks make even worse neighbours than oceans do. + +“I myself saw no objection to the measure; but our gracious queen +declared she had an insuperable one—_they stank_! We all acknowledged +the strength of the argument, and took out our handkerchiefs. Lord +Burleigh almost fainted; and Raleigh wondered how the Emperor Titus could +bring up his men against Jerusalem. + +“‘Ah!’ said he, looking reverentially at her Majesty, ‘the star of +Berenice shone above him! and what evil influence could that star not +quell? what malignancy could it not annihilate?’ + +“Hereupon he touched the earth with his brow, until the queen said,— + +“‘Sir Walter! lift me up those laurels.’ + +“At which manifestation of princely goodwill he was advancing to kiss her +Majesty’s hand, but she waved it, and said, sharply,— + +“‘Stand there, dog!’ + +“Now what tale have you for us?” + + SPENSER. + +“Interrogate me, my lord, that I may answer each question distinctly, my +mind being in sad confusion at what I have seen and undergone.” + + ESSEX. + +“Give me thy account and opinion of these very affairs as thou leftest +them; for I would rather know one part well than all imperfectly; and the +violences of which I have heard within the day surpass belief. + +“Why weepest thou, my gentle Spenser? Have the rebels sacked thy house?” + + SPENSER. + +“They have plundered and utterly destroyed it.” + + ESSEX. + +“I grieve for thee, and will see thee righted.” + + SPENSER. + +“In this they have little harmed me.” + + ESSEX. + +“Howl I have heard it reported that thy grounds are fertile and thy +mansion {211} large and pleasant.” + + SPENSER. + +“If river, and lake, and meadow-ground, and mountain, could render any +place the abode of pleasantness, pleasant was mine, indeed! + +“On the lovely banks of Mulla I found deep contentment. Under the dark +alders did I muse and meditate. Innocent hopes were my gravest cares, +and my playfullest fancy was with kindly wishes. Ah! surely, of all +cruelties the worst is to extinguish our kindness. Mine is gone: I love +the people and the land no longer. My lord, ask me not about them; I may +speak injuriously.” + + ESSEX. + +“Think rather, then, of thy happier hours and busier occupations; these +likewise may instruct me.” + + SPENSER. + +“The first seeds I sowed in the garden, ere the old castle was made +habitable for my lovely bride, were acorns from Penshurst. I planted a +little oak before my mansion at the birth of each child. ‘My sons,’ I +said to myself, ‘shall often play in the shade of them when I am gone, +and every year shall they take the measure of their growth, as fondly as +I take theirs.’” + + ESSEX. + +“Well, well; but let not this thought make thee weep so bitterly.” + + SPENSER. + +“Poison may ooze from beautiful plants; deadly grief from dearest +reminiscences. + +“I _must_ grieve, I _must_ weep; it seems the law of God, and the only +one that men are not disposed to contravene. In the performance of this +alone do they effectually aid one another.” + + ESSEX. + +“Spenser! I wish I had at hand any arguments or persuasions of force +sufficient to remove thy sorrow; but really I am not in the habit of +seeing men grieve at any thing except the loss of favour at court, or of +a hawk, or of a buck-hound. And were I to swear out my condolences to a +man of thy discernment, in the same round, roll-call phrases we employ +with one another upon these occasions, I should be guilty, not of +insincerity, but of insolence. True grief hath ever something sacred in +it, and when it visiteth a wise man and a brave one, is most holy. + +“Nay, kiss not my hand; he whom God smiteth hath God with him. In his +presence what am I?” + + SPENSER. + +“Never so great, my lord, as at this hour, when you see aright who is +greater. May He guide your counsels, and preserve your life and glory!” + + ESSEX. + +“Where are thy friends? Are they with thee?” + + SPENSER. + +“Ah, where indeed? Generous, true-hearted Philip! where art thou? whose +presence was unto me peace and safety, whose smile was contentment, and +whose praise renown. My lord! I cannot but think of him among still +heavier losses; he was my earliest friend, and would have taught me +wisdom.” + + ESSEX. + +“Pastoral poetry, my dear Spenser, doth not require tears and +lamentations. Dry thine eyes; rebuild thine house. The queen and +council, I venture to promise thee, will make ample amends for every evil +thou hast sustained. What! does that enforce thee to wail yet louder?” + + SPENSER. + +“Pardon me, bear with me, most noble heart! I have lost what no council, +no queen, no Essex can restore.” + + ESSEX. + +“We will see that! There are other swords, and other arms to wield them, +besides a Leicester’s and a Raleigh’s. Others can crush their enemies +and serve their friends.” + + SPENSER. + +“O my sweet child! And of many so powerful, many so wise and so +beneficent, was there none to save thee? None! none!” + + ESSEX. + +“I now perceive that thou lamentest what almost every father is destined +to lament. Happiness must be bought, although the payment may be +delayed. Consider; the same calamity might have befallen thee here in +London. Neither the houses of ambassadors, nor the palaces of kings, nor +the altars of God himself, are asylums against death. How do I know but +under this very roof there may sleep some latent calamity, that in an +instant shall cover with gloom every inmate of the house, and every far +dependent?” + + SPENSER. + +“God avert it!” + + ESSEX. + +“Every day, every hour of the year, do hundreds mourn what thou +mournest.” + + SPENSER. + +“Oh, no, no, no! Calamities there are around us; calamities there are +all over the earth; calamities there are in all seasons; but none in any +season, none in any place, like mine.” + + ESSEX. + +“So say all fathers, so say all husbands. Look at any old mansion-house, +and let the sun shine as gloriously as it may on the golden vanes, or the +arms recently quartered over the gateway, or the embayed window, and on +the happy pair that haply is toying at it; nevertheless, thou mayest say +that of a certainty the same fabric hath seen much sorrow within its +chambers, and heard many wailings; and each time this was the heaviest +stroke of all. Funerals have passed along through the stout-hearted +knights upon the wainscot, and amidst the laughing nymphs upon the arras. +Old servants have shaken their heads, as if somebody had deceived them, +when they found that beauty and nobility could perish. + +“Edmund! the things that are too true pass by us as if they were not true +at all; and when they have singled us out, then only do they strike us. +Thou and I must go too. Perhaps the next year may blow us away with its +fallen leaves.” {217} + + SPENSER. + +“For you, my lord, many years (I trust) are waiting; I never shall see +those fallen leaves. No leaf, no bud will spring upon the earth before I +sink into her breast for ever.” + + ESSEX. + +“Thou, who art wiser than most men, shouldst bear with patience, +equanimity, and courage, what is common to all.” + + SPENSER. + +“Enough! enough! enough! Have all men seen their infant burnt to ashes +before their eyes?” + + + +MEMORANDUM BY EPHRAIM BARNETT. + + + WRITTEN UPON THE INNER COVER. + +STUDYING the benefit and advantage of such as by God’s blessing may come +after me, and willing to shew them the highways of Providence from the +narrow by-lane in the which it hath been his pleasure to station me, and +being now advanced full-nigh unto the close and consummation of my +earthly pilgrimage, methinks I cannot do better, at this juncture, than +preserve the looser and lesser records of those who have gone before me +in the same, with higher heel-piece to their shoe and more polished +scallop to their beaver. And here, beforehand, let us think gravely and +religiously on what the pagans, in their blindness, did call fortune, +making a goddess of her, and saying,— + + “One body she lifts up so high + And suddenly, she makes him cry + And scream as any wench might do + That you should play the rogue unto. + And the same Lady Light sees good + To drop another in the mud, + Against all hope and likelihood.” {221} + +My kinsman, Jacob Eldridge, having been taught by me, among other useful +things, to write a fair and laudable hand, was recommended and introduced +by our worthy townsman, Master Thomas Greene, unto the Earl of Essex, to +keep his accounts, and to write down sundry matters from his dictation, +even letters occasionally. For although our nobility, very unlike the +French, not only can read and write, but often do, yet some from +generosity, and some from dignity, keep in their employment what those +who are illiterate, and would not appear so, call an _amanuensis_, +thereby meaning _secretary_ or _scribe_. Now it happened that our +gracious queen’s highness was desirous of knowing all that could be known +about the Rebellion in Ireland; and hearing but little truth from her +nobility in that country, even the fathers in God inclining more unto +court favour than will be readily believed of spiritual lords, and +moulding their ductile depositions on the pasteboard of their temporal +mistress, until she was angry at seeing the lawn-sleeves so besmirched +from wrist to elbow, she herself did say unto the Earl of Essex,— + +“Essex! these fellows lie! I am inclined to unfrock and scourge them +sorely for their leasings. Of that anon. Find out, if you can, somebody +who hath his wit and his honesty about him at the same time. I know that +when one of these paniers is full the other is apt to be empty, and that +men walk crookedly for want of balance. No matter—we must search and +find. Persuade—thou canst persuade, Essex!—say any thing, do any thing. +We must talk gold and give—iron. Dost understand me?” + +The earl did kiss the jewels upon the dread fingers, for only the last +joint of each is visible; and surely no mortal was ever so foolhardy as +to take such a monstrous liberty as touching it, except in spirit! On +the next day there did arrive many fugitives from Ireland; and among the +rest was Master Edmund Spenser, known even in those parts for his rich +vein of poetry, in which he is declared by our best judges to excel the +noblest of the ancients, and to leave all the moderns at his feet. +Whether he notified his arrival unto the earl, or whether fame brought +the notice thereof unto his lordship, Jacob knoweth not. But early in +the morrow did the earl send for Jacob, and say unto him,— + +“Eldridge! thou must write fairly and clearly out, and in somewhat large +letters, and in lines somewhat wide apart, all that thou hearest of the +conversation I shall hold with a gentleman from Ireland. Take this gilt +and illumined vellum, and albeit the civet make thee sick fifty times, +write upon it all that passes! Come not out of the closet until the +gentleman hath gone homeward. The queen requireth much exactness; and +this is equally a man of genius, a man of business, and a man of worth. +I expect from him not only what is true, but what is the most important +and necessary to understand rightly and completely; and nobody in +existence is more capable of giving me both information and advice. +Perhaps if he thought another were within hearing he would be offended or +over-cautious. His delicacy and mine are warranted safe and sound by the +observance of those commands which I am delivering unto thee.” + +It happened that no information was given in this conference relating to +the movements or designs of the rebels. So that Master Jacob Eldridge +was left possessor of the costly vellum, which, now Master Spenser is +departed this life, I keep as a memorial of him, albeit oftener than once +I have taken pounce box and penknife in hand, in order to make it a fit +and proper vehicle for my own very best writing. But I pretermitted it, +finding that my hand is no longer the hand it was, or rather that the +breed of geese is very much degenerated, and that their quills, like +men’s manners, are grown softer and flaccider. Where it will end God +only knows; I shall not live to see it. + +Alas, poor Jacob Eldridge! he little thought that within twelve months +his glorious master, and the scarcely less glorious poet, would be no +more! In the third week of the following year was Master Edmund buried +at the charges of the earl; and within these few days hath this lofty +nobleman bowed his head under the axe of God’s displeasure,—such being +our gracious queen’s. My kinsman Jacob sent unto me by the Alcester +drover, old Clem Fisher, this, among other papers, fearing the wrath of +that offended highness which allowed not her own sweet disposition to +question or thwart the will divine. Jacob did likewise tell me in his +letter that he was sure I should be happy to hear the success of William +Shakspeare, our townsman. And in truth right glad was I to hear of it, +being a principal in bringing it about, as those several sheets will shew +which have the broken tile laid upon them to keep them down compactly. + +Jacob’s words are these:— + +“Now I speak of poets, you will be in a maze at hearing that our townsman +hath written a power of matter for the playhouse. Neither he nor the +booksellers think it quite good enough to print; but I do assure you, on +the faith of a Christian, it is not bad; and there is rare fun in the +last thing of his about Venus, where a Jew, one Shiloh, is choused out of +his money and his revenge. However, the best critics and the greatest +lords find fault, and very justly, in the words,— + + “‘Hath not a Jew eyes? hath not a Jew hands, organs, dimensions, + senses, affections, passions? fed with the same food, hurt with the + same weapons, subject to the same diseases, healed by the same means, + warmed and cooled by the same winter and summer, as a Christian is?’ + +“Surely, this is very unchristianlike. Nay, for supposition sake, +suppose it to be true, was it his business to tell the people so? Was it +his duty to ring the crier’s bell and cry to them, _The sorry Jews are +quite as much men as you are_? The impudentest thing (excepting some +bauderies) that ever came from the stage! The church, luckily, has let +him alone for the present; and the queen winks upon it. The best defence +he can make for himself is that it comes from the mouth of a Jew, who +says many other things as abominable. Master Greene may overrate him; +but Master Greene declares that if William goes on improving and taking +his advice, it will be desperate hard work in another seven years to find +so many as half a dozen chaps equal to him within the liberties. Master +Greene and myself took him with us to see the burial of Master Edmund +Spenser in Westminster Abbey, on the 19th of January last. The +halberdmen pushed us back as having no business there. Master Greene +told them he belonged to the queen’s company of players. William +Shakspeare could have said the same, but did not. And I, fearing that +Master Greene and he might be halberded back into the crowd, shewed the +badge of the Earl of Essex. Whereupon did the serjeant ground his +halberd, and say unto me,— + +“‘That badge commands admittance everywhere; your folk likewise may come +in.’ + +“Master Greene was red-hot angry, and told me he would bring him before +the _council_. + +“William smiled, and Master Greene said,— + +“‘Why! would not you, if you were in my place?’ + +“He replied,— + +“‘I am an half inclined to do worse,—to bring him before the _audience_ +some spare hour.’ + +“At the close of the burial-service all the poets of the age threw their +pens into the grave, together with the pieces they had composed in praise +or lamentation of the deceased. William Shakspeare was the only poet who +abstained from throwing in either pen or poem,—at which no one marvelled, +he being of low estate, and the others not having yet taken him by the +hand. Yet many authors recognised him, not indeed as author, but as +player; and one, civiller than the rest, came up unto him triumphantly, +his eyes sparkling with glee and satisfaction, and said, consolatorily,— + +“‘In due time, my honest friend, you may be admitted to do as much for +one of us.’ + +“‘After such encouragement,’ replied our townsman, ‘I am bound in duty to +give you the preference, should I indeed be worthy.’ + +“‘This was the only smart thing he uttered all the remainder of the day; +during the whole of it he appeared to be half-lost, I know not whether in +melancholy or in meditation, and soon left us.” + +Here endeth all that my kinsman Jacob wrote about William Shakspeare, +saving and excepting his excuse for having written so much. The rest of +his letter was on a matter of wider and weightier import, namely, on the +price of Cotteswolde cheese at Evesham fair. And yet, although ingenious +men be not among the necessaries of life, there is something in them that +makes us curious in regard to their goings and doings. It were to be +wished that some of them had attempted to be better accountants; and +others do appear to have laid aside the copybook full early in the day. +Nevertheless, they have their uses and their merits. Master Eldridge’s +letter is the wrapper of much wholesome food for contemplation. Although +the decease (within so brief a period) of such a poet as Master Spenser, +and such a patron as the earl, be unto us appalling, we laud and magnify +the great Disposer of events, no less for his goodness in raising the +humble than for his power in extinguishing the great. And peradventure +ye, my heirs and descendants, who shall read with due attention what my +pen now writeth, will say, with the royal Psalmist, that it inditeth of a +good matter, when it sheweth unto you that, whereas it pleased the +queen’s highness to send a great lord before the judgment-seat of Heaven, +having fitted him by means of such earthly instruments as princes in like +cases do usually employ, and deeming (no doubt) in her princely heart +that by such shrewd tonsure his head would be best fitted for a crown of +glory, and thus doing all that she did out of the purest and most +considerate love for him,—it likewise hath pleased her highness to use +her right hand as freely as her left, and to raise up a second burgess of +our town to be one of her company of players. And ye, also, by industry +and loyalty, may cheerfully hope for promotion in your callings, and come +up (some of you) as nearly to him in the presence of royalty, as he +cometh up (far off, indeed, at present) to the great and wonderful poet +who lies dead among more spices than any phœnix, and more quills than any +porcupine. If this thought may not prick and incitate you, little is to +be hoped from any gentle admonition, or any earnest expostulation, of + + Your loving friend and kinsman, + + E. B. + + ANNO ÆT. SUÆ 74, DOM. 1599, + DECEMB. 16; + GLORIA DP. DF. ET DSS. + AMOR VERSUS VIRGINEM REGINAM! + PROTESTANTICE LOQUOR ET HONESTO SENSU: + OBTESTOR CONSCIENTIAM MEAM! + + * * * * * + + PRINTED BY + SPOTTISWOODE AND CO., NEW-STREET SQUARE + LONDON + + + + +FOOTNOTES + + +{8a} Quicken, bring to life. + +{8b} Debtors were often let out of prison at the coronation of a new +king; but creditors never paid by him. + +{21a} The word here omitted is quite illegible. It appears to have some +reference to the language of the Highlanders. That it was rough and +outlandish is apparent from the reprimand of Sir Thomas. + +{29a} By this deposition it would appear that Shakspeare had formed the +idea, if not the outline, of several plays already, much as he altered +them, no doubt, in after life. + +{38a} The greater part of the value of the present work arises from the +certain information it affords us on the price of small needles in the +reign of Elizabeth. Fine needles in her days were made only at Liege, +and some few cities in the Netherlands, and may be reckoned among those +things which were much dearer than they are now. + +{39b} Mr. Tooke had not yet published his _Pantheon_. + +{44a} This was really the case within our memory. + +{45a} It was formerly thought, and perhaps is thought still, that the +hand of a man recently hanged, being rubbed on the tumour of the king’s +evil, was able to cure it. The crown and the gallows divided the glory +of the sovereign remedy. + +{46a} And yet he never did sail any farther than into Bohemia. + +{50a} _Smock_, formerly a part of the female dress, corresponding with +_shroud_, or what we now call (or lately called) _shirt_ of the man’s. +Fox, speaking of Latimer’s burning, says, “Being slipped into his +_shroud_.” + +{50b} Faith nailing the ears is a strong and sacred metaphor. The rhyme +is imperfect,—Shakspeare was not always attentive to these minor +beauties. + +{53a} Shakspeare seems to have profited afterward by this metaphor, even +more perhaps than by all the direct pieces of instruction in poetry given +him so handsomely by the worthy knight. And here it may be permitted the +editor to profit also by the manuscript, correcting in Shakspeare what is +absolute nonsense as now printed:— + + “_Vaulting_ ambition that o’erleaps _itself_.” + +It should be its _sell_. _Sell_ is _saddle_ in Spenser and elsewhere, +from the Latin and Italian. + +This emendation was shewn to the late Mr. Hazlitt, an acute man at least, +who expressed his conviction that it was the right reading, and added +somewhat more in approbation of it. + +{55a} It has been suggested that this answer was borrowed from Virgil, +and goes strongly against the genuineness of the manuscript. The +Editor’s memory was upon the stretch to recollect the words; the learned +critic supplied them:— + + “Solum Æneas vocat: _et vocet_, oro.” + +The Editor could only reply, indeed weakly, that _calling_ and _waiting_ +are not exactly the same, unless when tradesmen rap and gentlemen are +leaving town. + +{66a} Here the manuscript is blotted; but the probability is that it was +_fishmonger_, rather than _ironmonger_, fishmongers having always been +notorious cheats and liars. + +{70a} _On the nail_ appears to be intended to express _ready payment_. + +{72a} The Cordilleras are mountains, we know, running through South +America. Perhaps a pun was intended; or possibly it might, in the age of +Elizabeth, have been a vulgar term for _hanging_, although we find no +trace of the expression in other books. We have no clue to guide us +here. It might be suggested that Shakspeare, who shines little in +geographical knowledge, fancied the Cordilleras to extend into North +America, had convicts in his time been transported to those colonies. +Certainly, many adventurers and desperate men went thither. + +{89a} In that age there was prevalent a sort of cholera, on which +Fracastorius, half a century before, wrote a Latin poem, employing the +graceful nymphs of Homer and Hesiod, somewhat disguised, in the drudgery +of pounding certain barks and minerals. An article in the Impeachment of +Cardinal Wolsey accuses him of breathing in the king’s face, knowing that +he was affected with this cholera. It was a great assistant to the +Reformation, by removing some of the most vigorous champions that opposed +it. In the Holy College it was followed by the _sweating sickness_, +which thinned it very sorely; and several even of God’s vicegerents were +laid under tribulation by it. Among the chambers of the Vatican it hung +for ages, and it crowned the labours of Pope Leo XII., of blessed memory, +with a crown somewhat uneasy. + +{105a} Sir Thomas seems to have been jealous of these two towers, +certainly the finest in England. If Warwick Castle could borrow the +windows from Kenilworth, it would be complete. The knight is not very +courteous on its hospitality. He may, perhaps, have experienced it, as +Garrick and Quin did under the present occupant’s grandfather, on whom +the title of Earl of Warwick was conferred for the eminent services he +had rendered to his country as one of the lords of the bedchamber to his +Majesty George the Second. The verses of Garrick on his invitation and +visit are remembered by many. Quin’s are less known. + + He shewed us Guy’s pot, but the soup he forgot; + Not a meal did his lordship allow, + Unless we gnaw’d o’er the blade-bone of the boar, + Or the rib of the famous _Dun Cow_. + + When Nevile the great Earl of Warwick lived here, + Three oxen for breakfast were slain, + And strangers invited to sports and good cheer, + And invited again and again. + + This earl is in purse or in spirit so low, + That he with no oxen will feed ’em; + And all of the former great doings we know + Is, he gives us a book and we read ’em. + + GARRICK. + + _Stale_ peers are but tough morsels, and ’t were well + If we had found the _fresh_ more eatable; + Garrick! I do not say ’t were well for _him_, + For we had pluck’d the plover limb from limb. + + QUIN. + +{106a} Another untoward blot! but leaving no doubt of the word. The +only doubt is whether he meant the _muzzle_ of the animal itself, or one +of those leathern muzzles which are often employed to coerce the violence +of ferocious animals. In besieged cities men have been reduced to such +extremities. But the _muzzle_, in this place, we suspect, would more +properly be called the _blinker_, which is often put upon bulls in +pastures when they are vicious. + +{108a} This would countenance the opinion of those who are inclined to +believe that Shakspeare was a Roman Catholic. His hatred and contempt of +priests, which are demonstrated wherever he has introduced them, may have +originated from the unfairness of Silas Gough. Nothing of that kind, we +may believe, had occurred to him from friars and monks, whom he treats +respectfully and kindly, perhaps in return for some such services to +himself as Friar Lawrence had bestowed on Romeo,—or rather less; for +Shakspeare was grateful. The words quoted by him from some sermon, now +lost, prove him no friend to the filchings and swindling of popery. + +{111a} It is a pity that the old divines should have indulged, as they +often did, in such images as this. Some readers in search of +argumentative subtility, some in search of sound Christianity, some in +search of pure English undefiled, have gone through with them; and their +labours (however heavy) have been well repaid. + +{124a} _Tilley valley_ was the favourite adjuration of James the Second. +It appears in the comedies of Shakspeare. + +{133a} _Whoreson_, if we may hazard a conjecture, means the son of a +woman of ill-repute. In this we are borne out by the context. It +appears to have escaped the commentators on Shakspeare. + +_Whoreson_, a word of frequent occurrence in the comedies; more rarely +found in the tragedies. Although now obsolete, the expression proves +that there were (or were believed to be) such persons formerly. + +The Editor is indebted to two learned friends for these two remarks, +which appear no less just than ingenious. + +{153a} _Belly-ache_, a disorder once not uncommon in England. Even the +name is now almost forgotten; yet the elder of us may remember at least +the report of it, and some, perhaps, even the complaint itself, in our +school-days. It usually broke out about the cherry season; and in some +cases made its appearance again at the first nutting. + +{157a} Sir Thomas borrowed this expression from Spenser, who thus calls +Queen Elizabeth. + +{159a} Humboldt notices this. + +{164a} _Pragmatical_ here means only _precise_. + +{181a} It is doubtful whether Doctor Buckland will agree with Sir Thomas +that these petrifactions are ram’s-horns and lampreys. + +{189a} She was then twenty-eight years of age. Sir Thomas must have +spoken of her from earlier recollections. Shakspeare was in his +twentieth year. + +{193a} It is to be feared that his taste for venison outlasted that for +matrimony, spite of this vow. + +{211} It was purchased by a victualler and banker, the father or +grandfather of Lord Riversdale. + +{217} It happened so. + +{221} The editor has been unable to discover who was the author of this +very free translation of an Ode in Horace. He is certainly happy in his +amplification of the _stridore acuto_. May it not be surmised that he +was some favourite scholar of Ephraim Barnett? + + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CITATION AND EXAMINATION OF WILLIAM +SHAKSPEARE*** + + +******* This file should be named 5112-0.txt or 5112-0.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/5/1/1/5112 + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will +be renamed. + +Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright +law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, +so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United +States without permission and without paying copyright +royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part +of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm +concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, +and may not be used if you charge for the eBooks, unless you receive +specific permission. If you do not charge anything for copies of this +eBook, complying with the rules is very easy. You may use this eBook +for nearly any purpose such as creation of derivative works, reports, +performances and research. They may be modified and printed and given +away--you may do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks +not protected by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the +trademark license, especially commercial redistribution. + +START: FULL LICENSE + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full +Project Gutenberg-tm License available with this file or online at +www.gutenberg.org/license. + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or +destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your +possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a +Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound +by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the +person or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph +1.E.8. + +1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this +agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the +Foundation" or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection +of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual +works in the collection are in the public domain in the United +States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the +United States and you are located in the United States, we do not +claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing, +displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as +all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope +that you will support the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting +free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm +works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the +Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with the work. You can easily +comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the +same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg-tm License when +you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are +in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, +check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this +agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, +distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any +other Project Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no +representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any +country outside the United States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other +immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear +prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work +on which the phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the +phrase "Project Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, +performed, viewed, copied or distributed: + + This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and + most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no + restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it + under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this + eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the + United States, you'll have to check the laws of the country where you + are located before using this ebook. + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is +derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not +contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the +copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in +the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are +redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply +either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or +obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg-tm +trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any +additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms +will be linked to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works +posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the +beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including +any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access +to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format +other than "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official +version posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site +(www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense +to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means +of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original "Plain +Vanilla ASCII" or other form. Any alternate format must include the +full Project Gutenberg-tm License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +provided that + +* You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed + to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he has + agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project + Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid + within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are + legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty + payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project + Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in + Section 4, "Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg + Literary Archive Foundation." + +* You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all + copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue + all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg-tm + works. + +* You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of + any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of + receipt of the work. + +* You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work or group of works on different terms than +are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing +from both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and The +Project Gutenberg Trademark LLC, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm +trademark. Contact the Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project +Gutenberg-tm collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may +contain "Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate +or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other +intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or +other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or +cannot be read by your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right +of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium +with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you +with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in +lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person +or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second +opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If +the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing +without further opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO +OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT +LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of +damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement +violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the +agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or +limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or +unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the +remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in +accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the +production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, +including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of +the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this +or any Project Gutenberg-tm work, (b) alteration, modification, or +additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any +Defect you cause. + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of +computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It +exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations +from people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future +generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see +Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at +www.gutenberg.org + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by +U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is in Fairbanks, Alaska, with the +mailing address: PO Box 750175, Fairbanks, AK 99775, but its +volunteers and employees are scattered throughout numerous +locations. Its business office is located at 809 North 1500 West, Salt +Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up to +date contact information can be found at the Foundation's web site and +official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact + +For additional contact information: + + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND +DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular +state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To +donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project +Gutenberg-tm concept of a library of electronic works that could be +freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and +distributed Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of +volunteer support. + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in +the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not +necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper +edition. + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search +facility: www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. + |