"Nay, 'tis not a fault, either, 'tis a misfortune," said Froth, "he's married."

"Gad-a-mercy, that is indeed a sc.r.a.pe to get into!" said Ralph Careless.

"I have been twice across the Atlantic, escaped shipwreck as often, been left for dead amongst the burning huts of a Spanish settlement; and yet have I never had such an escape as when I offered marriage to the Widow Crooke, and she altered her mind a week before the day fixed."

"That widow must be worthy looking on too," said Froth; "for truly her own escape exceedeth all thine put together."

"How so?" said Careless.

"In escaping from thee," returned Froth.

"Nay, the evil-favoured old hag," said Careless; "but she escaped not altogether scot-free either, since I drew a handsome forfeit ere I consented to let her break off."

"Had she given thee all she possessed," said Froth, "so she kept herself free of thee, she had the luck on't; but, come, the very name of marriage hath made our good William here a melancholy man. Oh! 'tis monstrous that tying together of couples for life, to claw and tear like a brace of tabbies cast over a clothes' line! Said I well, William? Why, fill again, and pa.s.s the flasket."

"Nay," said Shakespeare, "wooing, wedding, and repenting is, after all, but a Scotch jig, a measure, and a cinque pace. The first suit is hot and hasty, like a Scotch jig, and full as fantastical; the wedding mannerly and modest;[13] and then comes repentance, and with his two logs fallen into a cinque pace, faster and faster, till he sink into his grave."

[Footnote 13: "Much ado about Nothing."]

"Methinks, bullies," said the Host, "since we are on the subject of matrimony, that we must quaff a health for the nonce. Heard'st thou not that our good William here is the honoured father of a fair son--a goodly boy?"

"Ah, by St. Jago and charge Spain!" said Caliver, "and is it so? Why, then fill to the brim, my masters all;" and the health of the infant was pledged in flowing b.u.mpers of Canary. After which, the long-necked gla.s.ses were flourished to a loud huzza, and being cast overhead, smashed upon the rushes with which the apartment was strewed.

"And now," said Froth, "thou shalt give us a song, William--a song of thine own, for what man amidst us could produce a verse worthy of thee to sing? Come, warble, and let it be to thine own words, Will."

"A song--a song!" said Caliver; "give us one, William, in praise of the wine-cup."

Shakespeare smiled, and then sang:

"Come, thou monarch of the vine, Plumpy Bacchus, with pink eyne; In thy vats our cares be drown'd, With thy grapes our hairs be crown'd: Cup us, till the world go round, Cup us, till the world go round."

Whilst the chorus was ringing out, till every room in the hostel echoed with it, another individual entered the apartment.

The new comer was a tall, good-looking youth, clad in a worn leathern jerkin, which seemed as if it had endured the worst spite of the elements, and done duty in the woods for many years. His russet boots were drawn up to the thigh, and his well-worn wide-brimmed beaver was without feather or ornament, except a large a.s.sortment of fish-hooks, with the horse-hair twisted around it. In short, he looked what he really was--a dissolute hanger-on of a country town, and yet a good fellow withal, one given to the sports of the field, without means or license to pursue them--one of Diana's foresters, a poacher, a professed deer-stealer.

"You keep a goodly revel here, my masters," said he, drawing a chair, and seating himself unceremoniously at the table.

"Ha! what, Diccon Snare, is it thou, thou wandering knight of the hollow woods?" said Froth. "By my troth, thou art welcome; fill thyself a chalice for the nonce. How goes all at Warwick?"

"I scarcely know," said Snare, "since I have not been there for some days. If I have news at all, it is of these parts, and farther afield.

There is work for you to-night an ye listen. The old Pike of Charlecote hath ridden forth, and taken in his train some thirty followers. The moon is up to be sure, but then the woodlands are but badly watched."

"And how know'st thou this, thou sworn enemy of an outlying stag?"

inquired Shakespeare.

"How know I it? Why, from sure intelligence, and careful watching. How else should I know my trade?"

"Nay, thou hast served a pretty apprenticeship to the poaching trade, Diccon, that's certain," said Froth, "as the hangman's brand can testify! And what takes Sir Thomas to town with so strong an escort?"

"It seems there is more trouble at Court about the Queen of Scots," said Snare, "and her name is again mixed up with all sorts of intrigues and plots against our Queen. My Lord of Leicester hath stroked the beard of consideration upon the matter, and set on foot an a.s.sociation for the nonce. They are sworn keepers of the Queen's safety in life, and doubly sworn to revenge her death, should she fall by these malignant conspirators. A great many of the gentry around have gone up to join in this a.s.sociation, whilst the Queen of Scots is again placed in more severe keeping."

"Ha!" said Froth, "I heard somewhat of this before; and so--"

"And so," continued Snare, "Sir Thomas in great state hath set forth towards town, and sleeps to-night at Kenilworth, where the great Bear-ward at present lies."

"So that several of his foresters follow in his train, eh! is't so?"

"They do; he rides in state, for, as thou knowest, 'tis the pride of the old Pike to be followed by a whole troop. I saw him pa.s.s along the road as I lay perdue in the covert. Twenty of his fellows in coat and badge, with green and yellow feathers in their hats,[14] and as many falconers to make up the train."

[Footnote 14: People of condition in the country generally rode with numerous followers at the period.]

"And that in truth makes a fair field for us," said Shakespeare. "What say ye, my masters all? Shall we be minions of the moon to-night? Shall we strike a buck at Charlecote?"

To men of the wild and peculiar disposition of the a.s.sembled party, nothing could be more pleasant than an excursion of the sort.

A midnight visit to the woodlands was by no means an uncommon circ.u.mstance in their lives; but hitherto they had pursued their sport in localities somewhat more removed from the town in which they dwelt.

To the bold and imaginative Shakespeare, as his eye glanced into the moonlit orchard, the excursion had charms known only to himself. He had once or twice before watched the deer in the glades of Fulbrook, and he now joined in the expedition heart and hand.

Preparations were accordingly forthwith commenced, and the entire party made themselves ready for an exploit, which in those days, and with such men, was attended with something more of circ.u.mstance than in our own.

In the first place, a large closet in the bedchamber of the portly Froth was ransacked for such change of garment as was necessary for pushing through the more thick and tangled cover. Cross-bows and other weapons of the chase were then lugged out, and, amongst other articles, a sort of theatrical dress was produced; and being carefully packed up, was strapped upon the shoulder of Diccon Snare, to be used as occasion might serve.

This latter article of apparel had been purloined from the wardrobe of a company of masquers, who were in the habit of visiting Stratford. It was neither more nor less than the dress of "_Mors, or dreary Death_," a character then enacting in one of the tedious moral plays of the period.

It was fashioned so as to represent a skeleton; and seen in the woodlands in the night, would be likely to scare a forester out of his wits, and consequently, should the party be molested during their exploit, enables them to escape without collision or discovery.

By the time the party had indued their forest gear, the curfew proclaimed that it was time for them to set out; and once more seating themselves round the board, they arranged their plan of proceedings.

"Now, my masters all," said Froth, "a cup to hearten us, and another to the success of our venture, and then to horse."

"Let him whose courage fails remain here," said Caliver; "and let those to horse whose feet cannot prop up their bodies."

"No scoffing, lads," said Froth. "Thou knowest I am not able to travel on foot so far, or so fast as thou art; but in the field, I have twice thy skill at a shot."

"I have heard thee say so often," said Caliver. "To-night I hope to see a specimen of thy skill."

"Thus be it, then," said Snare. "You and I, Will Shakespeare will go straight to Charlecote Park. By 'ur Lady! we'll strike the best buck in the herd. You, Froth, being mounted, will accompany us, and remain without the park in readiness to receive the deer when we have struck it. You, Careless and Caliver, will walk apart lower down, and give us notice in case of approach."

"I like not that lying-out work, and alone too," said Froth. "The last time I played receiver on Wolvey Heath, I was nearly captured. He that dies a martyr, 'tis said, proves that he is not a knave. But, methinks, 'tis not so sure that he proves himself no fool."

"And wherefore art thou and Will Shakespeare to have the best of the sport?" said Careless. "Methinks, since you say the chase is left to take care of itself to-night, we might all four be strikers, and make a good venture on't."

"Nay," said Snare, "be it as you will. Will Shakespeare here is sound in wind and limb. You are both of ye but broken-down hacks at best, and, if you take my advice, will lie perdue without the palings; for, an we be molested, we shall have a smart run for it, I promise ye."

Having made their arrangements and laid the plot of their proceedings, the party soon after divided, and left the hostel by different doors.

Shakespeare, Snare, and Froth, the latter mounted on horseback, and disguised in a sort of countryman's frock, took the road; whilst Caliver and Careless, leaving by the back door, crossed the orchard, and making a slight detour to the right, joined them about a mile from the town.

Scarcely had the party left the Lucy Arms a quarter of an hour ere Pouncet Grasp, accompanied by Master Doubletongue and a couple of ill-looking companions, entered it.

"Ah," said Grasp, peering about, and snifting like a terrier dog in search of a rabbit; "ah, Host, is your honoured guest, Master John Froth, within?"