"He must to the Inns of Court. I was of Clement's once myself, where they talk of Mad Shallow still."
A pump now covers St. Clement's Well. Fitzstephen, in his description of London, in the reign of Henry II., speaks of certain "excellent springs at a small distance" from the city, "whose waters are sweet, salubrious, and clear, and whose runnels murmur o'er the shining stones: among these," he continues, "Holywell, Clerkenwell, and St. Clement's Well may be esteemed the principal, as being much the most frequented, both by the scholars from the school (Westminster) and the youth from the city, when on a summer's evening they are disposed to take an airing."
Six hundred years and upwards have elapsed since Fitzstephen wrote. It is pleasant to think that the well has lasted so long, and that the place is still quiet.
The Clare family, who have left their name to Clare Market, appear to have occupied Clement's Inn during part of the reign of the Tudors. From their hands it reverted to those of the law. It is an appendage to the Inner Temple. We are not aware of any greater legal personage having been bred there, than the one just mentioned. Shallow takes delight in his local recollections, particularly of this inn. In one of the masterly scenes of this kind, Falstaff's corroboration of a less pleasant recollection, and Shallow's anger against the cause of it, after such a lapse of time, are very ludicrous.
"Shallow. Oh, Sir John, do you remember since we lay all night in the windmill in St. George's Fields?
"Fals. No more of that, good Master Shallow, no more of that.
"Shal. Ha, it was a merry night. And is Jane Nightwork alive?
"Fals. She lives, Master Shallow.
"Shal. She never could away with me.
"Fals. Never, never; she would always say she could not abide Master Shallow.