"He was here but yesterday," said the lad.
"Yesterday!" said Grasp, "why I saw him not; I heard him not; neither did he indite a line of that I left for him to work at."
"He was fetched away almost as soon as he came," said the lad.
"Fetched away! who should fetch William Shakespeare away I trow, and from my house, without leave, licence, and permission granted from and by me to take the person of the said Shakespeare?"
"Master Walter Arderne, from the Hall, called for him, and they went away together," said the lad.
"Master Arderne, an called for one of my lads here! why what's in the wind now I trow, and why sent ye not to the Falcon for me, ye sinner?"
"He asked not for you, sir," returned the lad, "he asked for William Shakespeare."
"Now the fiend take thee for a stupid dolt," said Grasp; "what an if he did ask for William Shakespeare, of course it was me he wished to confer with; only, as he found I was out, he inquired for the first idiot who had sense enough to take his message, and the chance fell upon the greatest scrape-grace and the most consummate ape in the whole lot.
"Miserable sinner that I am! That varlet hath forgotten to deliver the message he received from Master Arderne. Who knoweth the import of such message, so entrusted, and confided, and given, and—and—lost perhaps for ever?——Ah! and——Peradventure Sir Hugh Clopton hath been seized with apoplexy, and I have been sent for to confer about his will, or mayhap Master Arderne hath wished for my advice, anent drawing up the articles of marriage betwixt himself and that most beautified of young ladies his cousin.——Or, peradventure the match may have been broken off, and he may wish for my advice on the let and hindrance thereof. Nay, it is impossible to say in how much I am deteriorated and damaged, both in purse, person, and reputation by the mistakes, misconduct, and mismanagement of that pestilent conglomeration of vices, idleness, and villany—that scurvy companion, that ill favoured——"
"William Shakespeare, I suppose you mean," said that youth himself, who at the moment entered unperceived, and stood smiling at the door whilst he listened to the scurrility of Grasp. "Nay, finish your sentence, and fill up the measure of your abuse, master-mine," said Shakespeare, advancing towards Grasp, who seemed struck all of a heap by his presence. "I have heard it is your pleasure to rail upon me behind my back, and, as I well know I deserve some slight portion of your anger, I am as well content to receive it myself, in place of its being put upon these lads, my fellows."