"Your disguise," said Shakespeare, "whilst we journeyed hitherward, beguiled me, or I had never so far taxed your strength."
"Ah! but that journey," said the lady, "so travelled, can one mile of it, think you, be forgotten?"
"Nay," said the poet, smiting, "still can I not forgive myself. Those moonlight walks during our route have, I fear, wearied you."
"Could it be possible," said the lady, "for mortal to feel fatigue amidst those scenes, I might have wearied."
Shakespeare again smiled. He felt gratified at the compliment paid him. He was no perfect mortal, and to say that he could look coldly upon the glorious creature before him, would be to belie his nature. He could no more do so than he could have "held a fire in his hand by thinking of the frosty Caucasus." His finer feelings, however, rendered that unprotected female as safe whilst beneath his roof, as if she had been guarded by a host. He seated himself again beside her, and an he calmly and kindly regarded her exquisite form, whilst he again spoke, a bright and pure beam of divine expression was on his bearded face, an expression, which diffused a calm feeling of happiness and contentment over the soul of her who beheld it.
The long crushed spirit of the lady felt the influence of his presence.
"That I had in my ignorance of your sex somewhat overtaxed your strength during our journey," he said, "the result has shewn, since on our reaching London, you was seized with an illness which nearly cost your life."
"I remember nothing," said the lady, "after our arrival at the hotel of the Globe."
"Unluckily," said the poet, "it happened that some seamen who disembarked but a few days before had brought the plague into that neighbourhood. That disease in London is usually so dire in its effect, that, for mere suspicion, the inhabitants act as if for surety. Your ship-boy's semblance, and your illness, gave the host of the tavern a suspicion that you was infected, and he expelled us from his door. Nay, such was the rapidity with which the alarm travelled, that I found it impossible to procure a shelter for you in that neighbourhood; and it was whilst conveying you, still insensible, to the water-side, that I became suspicious of your sex. This discovery increased the difficulty of our situation, till I recollected an asylum in which I could safely carry you, and e'en procure the assistance of medicine. I remembered an old poor man, one so needy, starved, and miserable, that I had oft-times sought, and alleviated his condition. Nay, gratitude had prompted me so to do, since, in my own need, and when, alone and friendless, I first sought this town, he himself befriended me. To the habitation of this man, who indeed, possesses considerable skill in leechcraft, I conveyed you, and to his care, attention, and skill, for night and day did he watch over you, are you indebted for your life."
"And whilst yourself also cared for me," said the lady, "still fearless of the tyrant fever with which I was burnt up; nay, you have since removed me hither, and so continued to guard over me. And all this in favour of one alike hopeless and friendless."