"Oh!" said Sir Thomas, "'Tis so, is it? Good!—an actor—a mummer—a morisco."
"Come, Sir Thomas," said Sir Christopher, "I'll make him known to thee; I'll assure you he's a rare fellow, this Will Shakespeare."
"I thank you, la," said the knight truly. "I hold not acquaintance with mummers and wild moriscos. Farewell, Sir Christopher, I am away to Warwickshire. An ass, quotha. Well, this 'tis to have deer, and parks, and warrens—this 'tis to be a player. The world's turned athwart. Farewell, Sir Christopher, (he continued hurriedly to the dancing favorite,) fail not to come to Charlecote, we'll kill the buck there—eh?" And so Sir Thomas left the palace.
CHAPTER XLVIII.
SIR THOMAS LUCY IN LONDON.
The more Sir Thomas Lucy heard, during his sojourn in London on the subject that had so startled him at Court, the more he wondered.
It was but a few days after he had caught a glimpse of the Warwickshire lad, whom he had hunted from his native town, that he found the name of William Shakespeare in the mouths of almost all he met. That his name should be at all subject of conversation at this precise moment, was indeed astonishing, considering the habits and pursuits of the generality of the Londoners. The warm citizens of London were for the most part a staid and grave set. The more juvenile were rude and rough; fond of athletic sports and out-door pastimes. They loved to see the bear tug and hug the hound; to witness the cruel conflict 'twixt mastiff and monkey; to see the bull driven to madness; or to shout over the bout at quarter-staff. Added to these pastimes it must be owned, however, that the patience with which they could sit at a (so-called) theatrical exhibition, and listen to the long-winded orations, speeches, and mysteries then in fashion, and which had been handed from their more ignorant ancestors, was a perfect marvel; for except that the fool or clown uttered here and there a conceit, a theatrical exhibition was a weary business. Shakespeare, who had now spent some time, in a sort of apprenticeship, amongst the players, had already altered this style; and just before the invasion of the Spaniards, he had perfectly astonished the town by producing a piece of his own writing—a play, which, albeit in our own time it is in comparison but slightly regarded, possessed in Elizabeth's day peculiar attractions. This play, which was called Pericles, had greatly delighted the Court and the city. It in some sort partook of the style of production most suited to the taste of the time, and prepared the way for more perfect productions.
It is not therefore matter of so much surprise, that just at this precise moment, when the fierce revelry consequent upon the dispersion of the Armada was beginning to pall upon the "monster with uncounted heads," the circumstance of William Shakespeare being about to produce another play, should make some stir.
As Sir Thomas passed through the Golden Chepe, he found, by the conversation of many whom he met, that the Queen intended to be at the Blackfriars Theatre that afternoon.