[Footnote 9: This was the first attempt of the English to form such settlements; and although they have since surpa.s.sed all European nations, they had been so unsuccessful that they abandoned the place.]

"So then," said Clara, "these unfortunate men may have been left to perish, exposed to all the vicissitudes of war and climate, and half-naked in an enemy's country!"

"'Tis to be feared so," returned Anne, "although the dreadful mortality which the climate produced amongst Drake's followers is but a feeble restraint on the avidity and sanguine expectation of the young adventurers of England; nay, other expeditions are said to be about to set sail; should it be so, that coast may be again visited."

"And this you have learnt from your lover?" said Clara.

"I have, lady; he loves to talk to me in our walks about the wonders seen in these islands of the sea in the far West. I would you could hear him describe what he has learnt from one or two of the youths who have adventured and returned: how they have seen and landed upon islands inhabited by people of wondrous appearance; islands full of strange sounds, and in which the most ravishing melody floated in the air, the musicians being spirits and invisible to sight."

"Methinks," said Clara, "I should much like to hear your lover's account of such wonders."

"Nay, so interested is he in these accounts, and the riches to be found on the Spanish main, that had I not over-ruled his design, he would himself have adventured this year with Martin Frobisher."

"I have heard something of Frobisher's former expedition," said Clara.

"What were the particulars?"

"Nay, I can but inform you as I have learned it from the lips of others," said Anne.

"They set out, I have heard," said Clara, "for the purpose of discovering a pa.s.sage to Cataia, in the Indies, by the north-west seas.

I do not myself quite understand such matters, but I believe they sailed beyond Friesland, where they came in sight of land inhabited by strange and savage people. In this land they discovered some black substance like sea-coal, and on their return showed it to a goldsmith in London, and he found it to be rich in gold ore, was't not so?"

"It was, lady," said Anne; "this encouraged Martin Frobisher to make a second voyage, when he freighted two vessels home with this black stone, and his project is now so risen in credit that he is about to set sail a third time, with fifteen goodly vessels; nay, had I not used my influence, as I before said, William Shakespeare had surely adventured amongst the crew."

"And so would you as surely have lost a lover, as he would have lost his venture," said Clara. "I have no opinion of these wild schemes--and yet I have half a mind to fit out an expedition and venture myself in quest of a treasure."

"You, lady!" said Anne; "but you are not serious?"

"I was never more so," said Clara.

As she said this, Clara rose from her seat--a hint to her visitor that the interview had lasted long enough.

"Yet stay," she said, as Anne was about to depart. "We have been long friends, Anne Hathaway, and if I find the choice you have made a worthy one, I will befriend you both. One thing I have forgotten to mention, and that is the report I have heard of this match between you and young Shakespeare being disapproved of by your father. Is that also true?"

"My lover is at present poor," said Anne.

"Enough," said Clara. "Farewell, Anne, I intend leaving Shottery for some time, but when I return, remember you have a friend in me. Here,"

she continued, "is a present I had intended to have given you after your marriage. Take it now, as we shall not meet again for many months. I leave Shottery to-morrow."

And so the friends parted.

The fair Clara remained buried in thought for some time after the departure of Anne Hathaway.

At length she arose from her seat, and her eye fell upon the sonnet she had received from Martin. "The verse is indeed beautiful," she said.

"Happy, happy Anne, how much is thy lot to be envied! In thy rank in life there is little impediment to the affections. Thou lovest and art beloved again: there is no drawback in regard to inequality, or matching in degree. The village lad loves and chooses his mate as the turtle, unembarra.s.sed by wealth or worldly interest. This youth must, however, be in mind at least far superior. Well, thy prospect is a happy one!

Whilst mine, alas! he I love is perhaps lost in the watery wastes of unknown seas--perhaps starving on some desert sh.o.r.e."

As Clara thus indulged her melancholy thoughts, she rang a small silver bell, and desired her attendant to summon to her presence the steward or major-domo of her household.

"Hubert," she said, "I am about to leave Shottery for London. My horses have of late had but idle times, and an excursion will do them good. I ride with twenty followers."

The orders of Clara were law with Hubert. He therefore bowed; and she continued, "I take this strong escort," she said, "because I shall have great charge with me in gold and diamonds. To you I will at once confess the purpose of my journey to London, and my farther intentions when there. I am about myself to fit out an expedition to the coast of Florida, and in person to visit the strange lands said to exist in the New World."

"In choosing amongst my people," she continued, "pick out those youths who you think would be likely to volunteer for such an exploit."

"And when do we depart, lady?" inquired the steward.

"The day after to-morrow," said Clara.

And again the steward bowed, and then withdrew.

CHAPTER XXIX.

THE LOVERS.

The very name of the New World during the reign of Elizabeth, was suggestive of boundless wealth, and the wildest hopes of gain. The islands already visited by the adventurers of the period, were said to be scenes of enchantment--a sort of demi-paradise, where the most lovely Indian females wandered about in all the innocence of the golden age.

Such was the idea men entertained of the New World, as it was then called, and in consequence, albeit those who had returned from this land of promise, presented in their own worn appearance but small encouragement to others to try fortune in their boasted region; still the voyage, as it was designated _par excellence_, was in great repute amongst the "rash, inconsiderate, and fiery voluntaries" of Elizabeth's reign. And, under these circ.u.mstances, sea-faring men of all sorts, and even those who had never beheld the sea, occasionally made up the file as soldiers for the various expeditions in vogue. The hardships and dangers these men encountered beneath the hot sun of the tropics at this time; their endurance under difficulties, whilst exposed to privation in their marches through unknown forests, defiles, and mountains, is wonderful to contemplate. Nay, perhaps, the very difficulties to be encountered, and the watery wastes to be traversed, even enhanced the desire these desperadoes felt in undertaking the venture; added also to this spirit of enterprise, and the prospect men behold in the sunny distance, of lovely lands, and scenes of enchantment in the bright islands they thought to find, there was in the breast of the Englishman at this period a rankling and deep-seated hatred of the Spaniard--then the stoutest soldier of the civilized world--a foe not only worthy in that day of the Englishman's sword, but who bore away from him the palm of soldiership, and, of whom, he felt in some sort jealous. The Spaniard, at the same time, whilst he had been drilled into wonderful efficiency by long conflict with the Moors, the French, and Italians, surpa.s.sed all other men in the qualities which conquer kingdoms, even at fearful odds.

The Spanish hidalgo still possessed all the chivalry of the crusader, with augmented bigotry and superst.i.tion. Fighting was his element, and greed of gold and religious fanaticism his stimulants. His pride was beyond description. He was--

"The man of compliment, a most ill.u.s.trious wight, A man of fire, new words, fashion's own knight."

'Twas against soldiers of this stamp that such men us Drake were now waging war. The stern hearts and iron fists of his sailors and men-at-arms, were turned against wretches, whose cruel hearts had shewn no mercy to the harmless Indian; and fierce, b.l.o.o.d.y, remorseless, was the conflict when the Englishmen met the Don.

The great success of the Spaniard in both the Indies, too, was an additional stimulant to the emulation of the English adventurers.

He was indeed considered a hero, who returned safe from the horrors of murderous conflict, mid the sack and siege of town and settlement in the tropics. His sun-burnt visage was gazed on with curiosity; and his account also of hardships endured amidst swamp and thicket, together with exaggerated circ.u.mstance of horrid animals, fearful reptiles, and wonderous beings in human form, was listened to with awe and wonder.

The morning Clara had fixed on for her departure dawned brightly. Hill and dale, and wood and park, were faintly gilded with the early morning sun; she looked around, and sighed as she reflected, that perhaps for the last time she beheld the domain of her ancestors.

As her party left the grounds of Shottery and took their way through the village, she reined up her palfrey, and, with her female attendant, remained a few minutes behind. She then turned her horse towards Anne Hathaway's cottage, and, as the road ran close beside it, she resolved to pa.s.s the dwelling of her rustic friend, and perhaps see her for a moment and bid her again farewell. As she did so, she observed two youths advancing along the road. They carried cross-bows in their hands, and seemed bound for the woodlands.

"Is not the slighter of those youth's Anne's lover?" inquired Clara of an attendant, as the young men entered the garden of old Hathaway's cottage.

"It is, lady," said the attendant. "Yon handsome lad is William Shakespeare."

"Listen!" said Clara; "he is awakening his mistress with a song." And as the lady drew bridle under shelter of the tall trees beside the cottage, they heard a beautiful voice accompanied by a sort of lute, singing these _now_ well-known words.

"Hark! hark! the lark at heaven's gate sings, And Phoebus 'gins arise, His steeds to water at those springs On chalic'd flowers that lies; And winking Mary-buds begin To ope their golden eyes With everything that pretty bin, My lady, sweet, arise.

Arise, arise."[10]

[Footnote 10: "Cymbeline."]

The beauty of the verse, and the sweetness of the singer's voice, completely fixed Clara to the spot; and, as she listened anxiously for another verse, she heard the lattice open, and the voice of Anne join in conversation with her lover. Clara felt extremely anxious again to see one who had been the friend of Walter Arderne, and she determined to accost the youth. When she rode round, however, to the front of the cottage, he was gone on his way, and afterwards with his companion might have been observed, concealed in the woods at Fulbrook. Together they lay in the thick covert and watched a sequestered stag, a bolt from Shakespear's cross-bow had wounded, and which he was again endeavouring to gain a shot at. 'Twas his first poaching offence; and whilst he lay thus crouching in the thick brake, and again sought to get near the stag, his comrade, d.i.c.k Snare, kept watch somewhat aloof, lest the keepers came upon them unawares.