CHAPTER V.
A DOMESTIC PARTY IN ELIZABETH'S DAY.
On the evening of the day on which the accident had happened to Charlotte Clopton, that lady, together with her father, her cousin Walter, and young Shakespeare, were assembled in an ample apartment at Clopton Hall, situate on the ground floor, the windows looking out upon the lovely pleasure-grounds in the rear of the building. The youth had spent the entire day at the hall, and in the society of those to whom he had rendered so great a service.
Indeed any person (albeit he might not so well deserve consideration by this good family) would still have been a cherished guest; nay, even an "unmannered churl," under the same circumstances, would have been tolerated and made much of; but in this lad, Sir Hugh and his family found something so extraordinary, so superior, and of so amiable a disposition, that it appeared a blessing and an honour to have him as an associate beneath their roof.
Those who can associate with persons above them in rank, it has been said, and yet neither disgust or affront them by over-familiarity, or disgrace themselves by servility, prove that they are as much gentlemen by nature as their companions are by rank and station. If our readers wish to picture the youthful Shakespeare's first introduction into "worshipful society," and amongst people of condition of his day, and where he received those first impressions from which some of his delicious scenes have been drawn, they must imagine to themselves a large and somewhat gloomy oak-pannelled room, whose principal ornament is the huge elaborately-carved chimney-piece, which, in truth, seems to occupy one entire side of the apartment, and appears inclined also to march into the very centre thereof. The apartment (albeit it was, as we have said, by no means stinted to space, and had an exceeding quiet, retired, and comfortable look withal) was by no means constructed or fashioned after the more approved style of modern architecture. The ceiling was somewhat low, traversed by an enormous beam, and cut and carved elaborately, displaying fruits and flowers, heraldic devices of the brave, and all those extraordinary and grotesque figures which the cunning architects of old were so fond of inventing. On the side of the apartment opposite the huge chimney-piece, and on which side hung several scowling and bearded portraits, stood a sort of spinnet or harpsichord, and beside that leant an instrument, fashioned somewhat like a bass viol of the present day, but of a more curious form, and elaborately inlaid with ivory, a viol-de-gamba, an instrument then much in vogue. Two ample casements which opened inwards, and which were festooned by creeping plants, the eglantine and sweet jessamine, and which casements, as we have before said, looked into the green and bowery garden, and through which the soft evening breeze of May breathed the most exquisite perfume, gave a sort of green and fairy light to the interior. A heavy oaken table with enormous legs was placed near the window. Upon it were to be seen a silver salver, with several bottles of antique and most exquisite pattern, containing liquors of comfortable appearance and delicious flavour. These were flanked by high glasses of Venetian workmanship. In addition to these articles, several high-backed cane-bottomed chairs and one or two stools formed the remaining furniture of the room, and which, in comparison with our own over-crowded style, would perhaps have been termed only half furnished.
Nic-nacs there were few or none. Two or three dull-faced miniature mirrors, looking all frame, hung heavily against the pannelling, and even a cross-bow, several rapiers, one or two matchlocks, and other weapons of ancient fashion, were to be observed; whilst, to complete the picture, on the ample hearth (although the room constituted what in the present day would have been called the withdrawing-room of the mansion) sprawled several of the smaller dogs then used in field sports, and an enormous hound, sufficiently large and powerful to pull down a stag; and in the enjoyment of the sight and flavour of the good wines placed before him, sat the portly form of the master of the house. Beside the open window stood the youthful cavalier Walter Arderne, and on one of the oaken lockers or benches in the embrazure of the casement, was seated Charlotte Clopton. As she leant her cheek upon her hand, one moment she gazed abstractedly into the bowery garden, the next her eyes wandered into the softened light of the interior of the apartment, and rested upon the features of her deliverer, young Shakespeare. This youth stood beside the spinnet, and (unconscious of the sensation his narrative produced upon the ears and hearts of his hearers, and of the beauty of the description) was giving them the plot of a tale in verse which he had that morning been perusing, when the lady's danger interrupted him.
He related the story briefly, but in such language that his listeners were wrapt by the recital. He even accompanied his description by some action, and where he wished to impress his hearers more especially he endeavoured to recollect and repeat the lines of the poem, piecing out the story, when memory failed him, with such verses as he made for the nonce.
In addition to these, the principal personages of our chapter, there was one other individual in the room, who (albeit he occupied the background of the scene, being crouched up in a corner) is also deserving of a description.
This was a sort of hanger-on, or appendage to the establishments of the old families of condition in England not then quite extinct—a sort of good familiar creature, attached to the master of the house principally, and indifferently familiar with all and sundry, in doors and out—a sort of humorist—a privileged, seeming half idiotic, though in reality extremely shrewd and clever companion, who used his folly "like a stalking-horse, under cover of which, he shot his wit;" but who was indeed more the friend than the fool of the family, and oft-times consulted on matters of moment by the good knight.