66 "I beseech you, my lord, not to allow of these violent terrible fits to get so much the better of you," replied Bertram, in a most earnest voice, and with a look of deepest sympathy. " Believe me, there is no one person anywhere nigh unto you, who would breathe one word but to your well-deserved praise. It grieveth me to the heart to see so noble a gentleman so moved. I marvel such gloomy shadows, the mere cheats of a disordered mind, should have such power over your excellent sweet nature." "I do believe thou lovest me, boy," said the earl, taking the other's hand in his wonted kind manner. ness "Ay, that do I, right heartily, my lord!" exclaimed the youth, with a most convincing sincerity. "I love you for your truly noble character-such as I have heard from divers of your honest faithful servants for the greatness of your heart and honourableness of your conduct as shewn in a long career of truly glorious deeds-for your bountiful generousness of disposition to every distressed poor person of whose wants you can gain intelligence ;-and I love you for your noble behaviour to myself-the very creature of your prodigal kind-whom you have saved from the horriblest evils humanity can endure. You found me with nought else to recommend me to your notice but the desperateness of my state. You took charge of me, attended me as a dear friend rather than a master; gave back to me the health which long suffering had deprived me of; and the home that villany had forced me from; and yet, with the full confidence of a perfect honourable nature, up to this hour you have afforded me all the succour I needed, without asking me one word of the cause that brought me into such necessity. I might not be the thing I seemed-perchance, one quite unworthy of your smallest esteem; but out of your own abundant goodness, you found me such qualities as I most needed, and took me into your service, without trial, question, or doubt. Truly, my lord, methinks you have given me great cause to love you." "I bless the hour I met thee in the wood," said the Lord de la Pole, with affectionate earnestness. "I have received more comfort of thy untiring heed of me than have I known, I scarce can say the day when, it seemeth so long since. I will prove anon how much I do esteem thy loving service." 'I care to have but one proof, an' it please you, my lord," said Bertram, "and that is what I have been labouring for to gain all this time." "Ay, indeed? Prythee say what it is?" asked the earl. "It is but to have you return to the gallant activity and proper cheerfulness shewn by you in times past," replied his young companion. At hearing this the Lord Urban shook his head mournfully. "Ah, boy, that can never be!" said he, with a deep sad emphasis that went direct to the hearer's heart. "Try, my lord, I beseech you," added the other imploringly. "Hie you to court, and doubt not the example of your nobleness would be of especial advantage to every gallant spirit that shall there be found. Take your proper place among the powerfulest lords of the realm, and be ever ready to afford them that counsel which your experience teacheth you-or be as you have so often been before, the valiant leader of the chivalry of England, bearing your resistless banner into the very heart of the battle.” "Ay, talk of these things, boy-talk of them as long as thou wilt!" exclaimed the earl, as a gleam of proud triumph seemed shining in his eyes. "I was not always as I am. There hath been many a hard fought field wherein my spear and curtle-axe have done notable service. Those were glorious days,—those were gallant scenes. The neighing of the war steed, as he rusheth to the conflict at the piercing cry of the trumpet, soundeth in my ears even now, -and the waving pennons, and the glittering lances, and the resistless rush of knights and men-at-arms, again return to mine eyes. I feel stirred in every vein. Methinks I could seek the enemy with all the valour of my early manhood, and raise the same resounding war cry that hath made the fiercest of the battle to rage around me wherever I passed." "Ay, that could you, my lord, I would wager my life on it!” cried the page, delighted beyond measure to notice such a humour in the earl. "England hath still enemies to subdue—and there yet remain for her gallant defenders many hard fought fields to be won. Would you remain in inglorious ease when the foes of your country are striving for her overthrow, and give yourself up to a vain grief when the dangers that threaten the land require you to the rescue? I beseech you, free yourself from the trammels of your sorrow-don your favourite armour-bestride your choicest steed-call to your standard the old companions of your valour, and speed wherever glory is to be gained or wrong redressed; and be assured that not only shall the greatness of your fame exceed your former reputation, wherever your name can be heard, but that you shall enjoy such content, such marvellous comfort, and such wonderful sweet happiness, as have never visited you all your life before.” "Ah boy, thou knowest nothing of what I have endured," answered the Lord Urban, and to his companion's exceeding discontentation, manifestly in as complete a sadness as ever. "Thou speakest in entire ignorance, else wouldst thou have refrained from so perfect a mockery as speaking to me of happiness. Be sure, that were I not held to this spot by a chain, from which nought but the grave can release me, long ere this I would have sought in the thickest of the enemy a death, by which my name might obtain that honour which hath been denied to my life. Comfort!" exclaimed he, in tones scarce articulate, as he let go the hand he had held so long. "Prythee, speak not to me such a word again ;" and, so saying, he rose from his seat, and slowly traced his way out of the chamber. Bertram gazed after him, with eyes full of the tenderest solicitude, and remained for some moments after his lord had disappeared, in a deep reverie of thought. It may be taken as an invariable truth, that a truly honourable mind is ever a confiding one, and taketh every fair appearance to be what it resembles. Doubt and suspicion belong only to the meaner sort. Those whose intentions are thoroughly honest put the fullest confidence in the dealings of their associates; and when once opinion getteth to be fixed in them of another's worthiness, a prejudicial thought finds such difficulty of entrance to their unsuspecting minds, that it requireth some extraordinary evidence before it will be entertained. Thus was it with this youth. Of his lord's nobility of character he had formed so strong a conviction, from what he had heard and seen of him, that such a thing as suspecting him of a dishonourable action, was utterly beyond the bounds of possibility; therefore, all the earl's self-accusations and dark allusions the other could only treat in the manner already described, as distempered fantasies arising from the gloomy melancholy in which he had indulged, as the page had heard, since the death of his countess. And thus it went on for many months, the faithful Bertram striving all he could to win the earl from the terrible sorrow with which, as it seemed to him, his lord was afflicted; and ever imagining he was succeeding in his endeavours, till some violent fit of frenzy would make its appearance in the object of his grateful love, and prove how little he had gained by his affectionate painstaking. He had observed, with some marvelling, that when he had left the earl for any length of time in the chamber that served for his library, on his return he was sure to find him, either gloomily abstracted, or in some violent excitement. Sometimes, long fits of dreadful self-reproach would follow, and at others, he would fiercely insist he had done a right thing. In the end, he was sure to relapse into his customary sadness, from which it was with exceeding difficulty he was thoroughly roused. It chanced to hap, that wanting Lord de la Pole on one occasion, to acquaint him with something he had forgot, Bertram returned to the library, where he had left him a few minutes since, and not finding him there, there waited, believing the earl had retired to his bed-chamber. Finding his lord's stay was longer than he anticipated, he took up a book and sat himself down. He had not been long engaged in reading, when he heard a noise close to him, and glancing towards the spot whence it proceeded, to his exceeding wonder, beheld a portion of the book-case open like a door, and immediately after, the earl enter the chamber by its means, and close it carefully after him. It was manifest the Lord Urban had no expectation of finding his page where he was at that time; for, on the instant he caught sight of him, he started with a sudden exclamation of surprise, and his look was angry, and his manner more severe towards Bertram than ever the youth had known it to be. "How darest thou come here unbid?" exclaimed the earl, as with folded arms he regarded his youthful companion with a stern scrutiny. "Dost seek to pry into my secret? Have I then all this time been but encouraging a pitiful spy, who laboureth to thrust his curiousness into my most hidden affairs, that he might betray me to the world?" "My lord! my lord! believe me, I never entertained so base a thought," replied the page, much affected his lord should think so ill of him. "Wilt promise never to divulge what thou hast seen?" inquired the Lord de la Pole, with increased earnestness. "In very truth, my lord, I never should have mentioned it to any person living if I thought you so desired," said the other. "Swear it!" cried the earl, suddenly grasping his companion firmly by the wrist, seemingly violently agitated. "Down on thy knees and swear by all thy hopes of happiness here and hereafter, thou wilt hint to none there is other entrance to this chamber save those with which all are acquainted." The page knelt as he was desired, and repeated, as his companion stood sternly over him, the form of the oath he was required to take. "As heaven is my witness, you need no oaths to bind me to your will," urgently exclaimed the youth. The earl appeared scarcely satisfied even by this solemn security he had exacted. He was still shewing most undeniable signs he was terribly influenced by some dark passion, for anger flashed from his eyes, and distrust appeared in every feature of his countenance; his breathing was hard and loud, and at every gasp of breath his breast heaved as though it would force its fastenings. "Be assured, my lord, I am your obedient poor servant, and would die rather than betray any secret you might entrust me with," continued the other. "But it grieveth me to the heart you should think so ill of me. I could bear anything rather than you should doubt of my entire allegiance. Other friend than you I have none in the wide world, and therefore what could induce me to play the traitor to your confidence. I beseech you, my lord, put away so ungracious a thought. As I trust in God's mercy, I have done nought to merit it." "Well, well, boy, perchance I have been too hasty," replied the earl, somewhat moved by the touching earnestness of the youth's speech. "But never stay in this chamber, even for a minute, when I am not present. I should have told thee of this, my desire, sooner, but it never struck me there would be necessity for it." The promise was cheerfully made, and the Lord Urban's customary kindness returning, all trace of unpleasantness speedily vanished from both. CHAPTER XXIX. Should we disdain our vines because they sprout Chloris, farewell! I now must go, I shall prove blind and lose my way. Made me stay longer than I thought. GREENE. WALLER. Prince Henry. Where shall we take a purse to-morrow, Jack? Falstaff. Where thou wilt, lad. I'll make one; an' I do not, call me a villain and baffle me. SHAKSPEARE. THE best room at the Crown Inn at Oxford was filled with noisy boisterous students, most of whom were seated at a long table covered with drinking vessels, at the top of which was no other person than William Shakspeare, for whom, indeed, all had assembled. The two scholars that had been his fellow travellers in the waggon, spread amongst their acquaintance of their different colleges, the fame of the young countryman who had so charmed them with his eloquent sweet rhetoric, and this presently brought whole companies of students to see this marvellous person. They were so delighted with his ready wit and admirable perfect knowledge of all manner of subjects, that they increased his reputation so over the university, the dwelling of John D'Avenant, large as it was, could scarce contain the wonderful great press of guests that flocked into it. Doubtless this made the cause of such famous custom to be in especial liking with mine host-but independent of these considerations, he could not help relishing his guest's society, it was so full of cheerful ease and pleasant humour; and as for mine hostess, if there existeth any language in a pair of lustrous dark eyes, she did discourse to him right eloquently of the favour in which he was held by her. Doubtless these latter would gladly enough have kept their young guest where he was, but he had expressed his determination to start for London the following morning, and this becoming known, the scholars must needs give him a parting entertainment, and therefore were they crammed so thick in that chamber. Divers were thronging up to the head of the table, wine cup in hand, to pledge him, and there was a monstrous shaking of hands and shouting of good |