Whilst they did so, it was evident the tongue of that poor player made some impression on his fair hearer.
"Marriage is a matter of more worth, lady," he said, as he at length rose from his seat; "than to be dealt in by attorneyship. You consent to an interview with my friend."
Clara, whose eyes were bent upon the ground in deep thought, glanced quickly upon Shakespeare. There was no mistaking the expression of that face. He was gazing upon her with feelings of mingled admiration and regret. The next moment, as if unwilling again to meet her glance, he turned and hastily left the apartment.
A few minutes more, and the Countess of Leicester entered the room, accompanied by a tall cavalier, clad in mourning costume. The sad expression, however, which for many months had suited with his habit, now however gave place to surprise, joy and admiration; and Walter Arderne beheld the living original of the portrait his eyes had loved to dwell upon. He knelt at the feet of Clara de Mowbray.
Our story is now so far ended. The sequel may be gathered "by what went before." Time and space alloweth not of dilation upon the gay revel held that night in the halls of Kenilworth. Shakespeare, whose mind was but ill-fitted for revelry, soon afterwards left the castle.
For some reason, which we are unable to explain, he felt unfitted for society. He left the hall of Kenilworth, and in the free air gave vent to the feelings with which he was oppressed. In the woods of Stoneleigh, the dawn found him, despite the coldness of the season, laying along "under an oak, whose boughs were mossed with age," and "high top-bald with dry antiquity." And as his eye glanced from heaven to earth—from earth to heaven, whilst the deer swept by,[29] his imagination bodied forth the forms of Jaques and Rosalind in Arden.
About a fortnight subsequent to the revel at Kenilworth, a noble-looking cavalier, accompanied by a lady (both mounted and attended by a numerous retinue,) rode on to the green before old Hathaway's cottage at Shottery. The cavalier and the lady dismounted, and left their horses with the attendants, and as they approached the cottage, they conversed upon the subject of some dearly-loved friend.
"I offered him," said Walter Arderne, "in your name, dearest Clara, half of what we possess, so he would but remain with us here; but the spirit of the man is great, and he will pursue his fortunes after his own fashion. Listen to what himself says;" and Arderne produced a letter, which he read an extract from, worded somewhat thus:—
"The portion of time I have spent amongst my companions of the theatre has made me desire to continue in my vocation. The success I have already achieved gives warranty to my expectations. I have friends, to, as thou knowest, amongst the nobles of the Court; and the spirit of my father, which I think is within me, leads me to think I can yet go on towards even a higher fortune than this that I have reached. In few, I could not with contentment at this period of my life sit down here in Stratford. My residence will be at my old haunt, where I shall hope yet to see those I so dearly love."
"In London, then, we will see him, Walter," said the lady.