Whilst he remained there, several cavaliers on horseback rode past—gay youths, tricked out in all the extravagance of that age of extravagant costume; their loud laughter, and joyous converse, as they careered along, shewing that their spirits were gay as their habits. They came from the bridge over which he himself had just crossed, and took their way along the massive wall then skirting the antique buildings of Winchester Place.
Whilst Shakespeare continued to remark the several parties occasionally passing, he also observed that boats, containing companies of ladies, also put into a small landing-place near at hand; and these latter parties took the same direction the horsemen had gone.
The beauty of the evening, the fresh air from the river, the monastic grandeur of the old buildings, and the cheerful appearance of the various companies he at the moment beheld, somewhat revived his drooping spirits. He felt it impossible to be quite unhappy, whilst all around was gay, and the scene so lovely.
Listlessly he continued to watch the various boats; and as the parties disembarked and passed on, in their thoughtless hilarity, he arose, and bent his steps in the same direction.
He passed through the open field along that strong buttressed wall, then inclosing Winchester Place; and a few paces brought him to the close vicinity of a building, around which several persons at that moment were congregated—the Globe Theatre. The place and scene altogether interested him, and again he stopped to observe the throng, and which, as it altogether presented a somewhat singular appearance, we shall ourselves stop with him to observe.
The entrance of the building was accommodated with benches on either side, on which were seated various of the hangers-on of the establishment, and one or two of the actors, waiting for their call. Amongst those, a couple of clowns or fools were conspicuous; and as they uttered their witticisms, and performed divers tricks, for the amusement of themselves and their companions, they collected an audience without, which frequently recruited those within—cracking their jokes, and familiarizing themselves with the various companies as they came up. These were, indeed, the all-licensed fools of the time, and without whose presence and aid no performance was considered perfect; they bore off, in some sort, the tedium of the long dialogue then in vogue.
Whilst Shakespeare stood to regard the scene before him, the flourish of drum and trumpet within the building recalled those motley-minded gentry and their companions to their various duties; and at the same moment a gay party of mounted cavaliers approached, dismounted, and entered.
Still that tired stranger, as he stood beside the portals of the theatre, continued to feel an interest in all that was going on there. The merry glance of the citizen's wife, as she passed in,—the answering look of the gallant as he followed,—the gay and flaunting party from the Court-end of the town,—the loud laugh, the sharp rebuke, the coarse jest, the retort courteous, and the counter-check quarrelsome,—all were there.
By-and-by a couple of cavaliers, splendidly mounted and magnificently apparelled, came galloping up. They dismounted at the door, and the one nearest Shakespeare threw the rein of his steed to him, and desired him to hold the horse, at the same moment thrusting a silver coin into the youth's hand. His companion meanwhile had confided his charger to the care of one of the employés of the theatre, and the next moment both these gallants were within the Globe. They had passed so quickly, that Shakespeare found himself in possession of the coin and the steed, ere he had time fully to observe the person of the cavalier who had favoured him with his custody.
As he looked at the money, a slight blush tinged his cheek, but he repressed the feeling of shame which at first intruded itself, as he reflected the money was honestly come by. He then looked more curiously upon the noble animal intrusted to his charge.