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THE STRATFORD LAWYER.

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The arrival of strangers to take up their abode for any length of time in such a town as Stratford-upon-Avon, always furnished matter of curiosity and speculation amongst the inhabitants. The neighbours were known to each other so well, and there was comparatively so little travel, that a certain degree of suspicion attached to all new-comers in those dangerous days. When any of the townsmen had business, even a few miles off, it was usual for them to arrange matters go that two or three might travel in company. Neighbour Fustian, the hosier, having business in Warwick, agreed to travel the road in company with neighbour Lambe, the glover, whose trade made him a visitor to Coventry, whilst the latter stayed the convenience of mine host of the Falcon, who was, peradventure, bound for the latter town, and all three, mounted and armed, went and returned in company, rather than trust purse and person singly to the chances of the road.

Robbing on the highway, although by no means so common as in the preceding reign, was still frequent. The woods were thick in this part of Warwickshire, and the gentlemen of the shade found it easy to elude pursuit after a highway robbery. Nay, but a few short years before, and during the York and Lancaster feuds, which had deluged the land with blood; what with disbanded men-at-arms, thieves, and caitiffs of one sort or other, the roads were but cut-throat defiles, and the country round a continued battle-field.

So that during the troublous reign of Henry VI. it had been especially ordered, that between the towns of Coventry, Warwick, and Stratford-upon-Avon, the highways should be widened, by cutting down trees on either hand, in order that travellers and wayfarers might have more room to defend themselves against the numerous robbers and caitiffs infesting those parts.

On the morning following the transactions we have recorded in the foregoing chapter, there were several subjects of interest commented upon and discussed in the little back room which constituted the office of one Pouncet Grasp, the head-lawyer of the town. One was the sojourn of several strangers, whom no one knew anything about, at one of the hostels: another was a dark and alarming rumour of a suspicious sort of illness having broken out in the suburbs: and another was the circumstance of a man, having all the appearance of a person of condition, having been found, stabbed in several places, and lying, with the pockets of his doublet rifled, a stiffened and unhandsome corse, in the road leading to the ferry beyond the church.

Master Pouncet Grasp himself was seated upon a high stool near the window of his office, which looked into a green and bowery garden, having at its further extremity a most pleasant bowling-green; the river just to be distinguished in the distance beyond, amongst the marshy meadows.

Some two or three clerks were seated in different parts of the apartment, all busily engaged, pen in hand, scrawling strange hieroglyphics upon certain sheets of parchment before them, making a dreadful sound of incessant scribbling with their pens.

Master Grasp himself, the monarch of all he surveyed, and an especial tyrant over the unfortunate clerks he presided over, was the only personage in that small apartment who seemed to have freedom of thought and motion, and license to take his attention from the crackling parchments beneath his nose.

If our readers have ever taken the trouble to picture to themselves the clerk of Chatham, with his pen and ink-horn hung round his neck, they will have some idea of the figure of our Stratford lawyer in his own office. Only that, whereas we imagine the clerk of Chatham to have been a sort of dreamy, drawling person, Master Pouncet was rather more swift, sententious, and mercurial. Law had sharpened his wit, irritated his temper, levelled his honesty, and urged his avarice.

Any one to have watched him when alone in his glory, and only seen by his clerks, would have taken him to be half insane. The moment, however, a client or a stranger appeared, he put on a new face and a demeanour suited to the occasion; appearing wise in council, amiable in disposition, and staid and sober in manners, whereas before he had been like a chattering ape irritated with a hot chestnut.

"Now do I wonder who these strangers may be," he said, leaving off his writing and jumping round in his seat; "truly I must run down to goodman Doubletongue and confer with him on the subject. Will Shakespeare," he said, jumping back again, "get thee down to——Ah, I forgot that pestilent Shakespeare hath not been to the office for a whole week. Ah, the caitiff! Oh, the villain! See, too," he said, opening his desk and searching amongst his papers, "the vile rubbish he inditeth when he is here in place of copying what is set before him. What! you grin there, do ye? driving wights that ye are. Grin, my masters, whilst ye work, an ye list. But, an ye leave off to grin, see an I brain ye not with this ruler. Shakespeare—ah, a pretty name that, and a precious hounding scamp is the fellow that owns it. Here's goodly stuff toward! Here's loves of the gods and goddesses for you! Here's Venus, Adonis, Cytherea, hid in the rushes; Proserpina and Pluto, besides half a dozen heathen deities, devils, satyrs, and demigods, all dancing the hays in a lump!" So saying, Pouncet Grasp turned over the leaves of a sort of manuscript poem, written upon a quantity of backs of letters and dirty sheets of paper, and, after glancing through the contents, sent them fluttering and flying at the head of one of his clerks.

"There," said he, "that's the way my ink is spoiled, and my documents destroyed. I suppose now, that your friend and crony there," he continued, addressing himself to the young man at whose head he had thrown the manuscript, "I suppose your unintelligible friend calls that incomprehensible and unaccountable rubbish a sort of rough draught of a poem. I'm not learned in such productions, but methinks he that wrote of such lewd doings ought to be whipped at the cart's tail, or put in the stocks at least."

"I was not aware," said the youth addressed, (and who under cover of his industry had been laughing all the time Master Grasp was reading the poem), "I was not aware William Shakespeare has ever written a poem about the gods."

"Si-lence," cried Grasp, sticking his pen behind his ear and looking fierce, as he wheeled round and faced about, first to one and then to another of his clerks. "Si-lence, ye scoundrel scribblers, or by the Lord Harry——"

The clerk, who knew from experience the irritable nature of his taskmaster, took the hint and redoubled his exertions with the pen and parchment before him, only occasionally, as he stole a furtive glance at his companions and observed the lawyer's attention in another direction, lolling out his tongue or executing a hideous grimace at him.

"I pr'ythee, sirs, inform me," said Grasp, again interrupting the silence he had commanded, "when was that mad-headed ape last in this office?"

"Of whom was it your pleasure to speak?" inquired the youth who had received the compliment of the poem at his head.

"Of whom should I speak, sinner that I am, but of him of whom I last spoke—that incomprehensible, uncontrollable varlet—that scribbler of bad verse—that idle companion of thine?"

"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."

"Nay, good William," said the lawyer (whose excitement seemed to have vanished in a most unaccountable manner, in the presence of his clerk); "I named you not, I meant you not, I spoke not your name, that I am aware of. At least not at this precise moment. Did I name our good William lads? Did I couple his name—?"

"If you did, I care not," said the youth, "since (as I have before said) I feel myself in some sort deserving of your censure. The law suiteth not my disposition, neither can I give my mind up to its dry study. I wrong thee, Master Grasp, when I attempt to serve thee, and I should use oceans of ink and reams of paper ere I learnt even how to serve a writ properly. It is easier to pretend to be what we are not, than hide what we really are, Master Grasp, and I will be content to be under imputation of those ill names you have given me, provided you add not lawyer to the number; only, in as much as you have favoured me with those terms, we must be content to part. I do not beat thee, Master Grasp, because thou art weak in body, and somewhat old; but I do warn thee not to couple my name in future, when you speak of me, with those opprobrious epithets you have just used. I am no villain at least, and so farewell for ever, Master Grasp." And Shakespeare turned abruptly and left the office.

"Now that's what I call a circumstance," said the lawyer; "here's a large mouth, here's a goodly gentleman: a stipendiary, a stripling, a mere school-boy, who hath scarce been two months in my office, and to rebel, and take himself off thus. Well, be it so. I am well rid of the rebel, but an I have him not on the hip ere long, my name is not Grasp. And now I forgot to demand of him the message sent to me from Clopton Hall. My boots! my boots!" he called to the serving-wench, "and tell Davey to clap saddle upon Sorrel. Troth I will ride to Clopton, and inquire me of the steward what's amiss there."

When the serving-man brought the lawyer his boots, he announced a client in waiting. "One to advise with your worship," said the man, "upon matters of import, as he saith."

"Ah," said Grasp, "what manner of man, Davey man, and where from——what's his name too?"

"A would not give his name, but a said he were from Warwick," said Davey.

"From Warwick, Davey? eh? Right, good Davey. I do expect one from Warwick to-day—I had forgotten as much—and so you showed him into the front chamber?"

"I did, master," said Davey.

"And is all in order in that apartment, Davey?"

"It be so," said Davey.

"Papers, parchments, deeds, and strong boxes, all in their places, Davey?" inquired Grasp.

"Yes, master, like nest-eggs. He! he! he!"

"And you told him I was engaged with another client on business of import—of immense import—eh, Davey?"

"Trust I for that!" said Davey.

"Good, then, take him a cup of wine, Davey. Tell him I will see him the moment I am disengaged, and then bring me hither my capon and tankard. And d'ye hear—after you have done that, mount Sorrel yourself, and ride over to Clopton; make some excuse to introduce yourself into the servants' hall, and just take a look, and observe if there be anything out of the common there. You understand?"

"He! he! hap I do," said Davey, with a knowing wink, as he hurried out to execute his several commissions.

When the important little lawyer condescended to give audience to the particular client his serving-man David had announced, he found himself in company with a tall aristocratic-looking person, dressed in the somewhat faded appointments of a military man of the period: that is to say, he wore the leathern doublet usually covered by the breast-plate and back-piece, the stains upon it showing it had seen much service in the field as well as the table, whilst the scarf and jingling spur still farther denoted the profession of arms.

"Master Algernon Neville!" said the man of parchment, as soon as the striking figure of the visitor saluted his eye on entering the room. "I would your honour had sent in your name. I should hardly have kept you so long in waiting here. Body o' me, I had no idea it was your honourable self."

"Nor much desire so to find it, I dare be sworn, Grasp," said the visitor. "But, sooth to say, I am come to thee again, and upon the same errand as when I last was here."

"Advice, eh?" said Grasp; "truly your honour shall have it—the best I can give."

"I am bounden to thee, good Grasp," said the visitor, "for thy advice; but there was, as thou knowest, something else I required of thee besides thy advice, good as it doubtless was."

"Moneys?" said Grasp. "Truly I am not likely to forget I did also advance certain moneys—moneys you required to take you over to Scotland."

"And now, if I require more moneys," said the visitor, "can you accommodate me again?"

"Marry can I," said Grasp; "what sum does your honour require?"

The visitor hesitated. He looked shrewdly at Grasp, and taking the pen from the inkstand marked on a piece of paper several figures.

"I want that," he said, handing the paper to Grasp.

"Mass, a round sum!" said Grasp; "but upon such security as you can give you shall have it, honoured sir. Nay, double an you want it."

"Why, gad a-mercy!" said the visitor, in some surprise, "hast thou been the Virginian voyage since I saw thee last? Rich thou hast always been since I knew thee, but so ready to part with thy moneys I never knew thee before."

"Your honour will pardon me for the simile," said Grasp; "but there are a sort of men who are fortune's favourites, and who like cats ever light upon their legs. Your honour hath surely heard a piece of news which nearly concerns you?"

"I know of no news likely to effect my fortunes," said the visitor, "having but lately arrived in England. Hast thou anything of import to communicate?"

"Body o' me," said Grasp, "why, I concluded you had heard, or I had communicated it immediately I saw you! Know you not the Earl of Westmoreland is dead!"

"Nay, is this true?" said Neville, starting.

"True as that your honour is his next heir," said Grasp.

"And where died he?" inquired the visitor.

"In Italy, where he hath been long in exile, as thou know'st."

"Ah!" said Neville, "this is somewhat unlucky!"

"Unlucky?" said Grasp. "Heard ye ever the like o' that! What can be unlucky that bodes your honour so much good? You are in fact and in right, de facto et de jure, next heir to the earldom of Westmoreland."

"Would that I had known of this but yesterday!" said Neville, abstractedly; "'twould have spared me from participating in this last business."

"Did your honour observe anything?" said Grasp, staring at his visitor, who seemed wrapped in the thought and cogitations consequent upon the news he had just heard.

"'Tis no matter," he muttered at length to himself, "I will betray them all. Harkee, good Grasp," he continued, after a considerable pause, "'tis quite true, that which thou say'st. I am next heir to the title and estate of Westmoreland. But it follows not, therefore, that I shall succeed to them, as I am in disgrace and under suspicion. Could I indeed do some acceptable service to the Queen, I might recover those estates and honours forfeited by the rebellion of the earl just now deceased."

"That were, indeed, a way to recover," said Grasp; "but does your honour know of any acceptable service that might do yourself honour and her majesty pleasure?"

"I do," said Neville, "and you can aid me in it; but I warn you, it is attended with danger."

"In aiding you I serve the Queen, it seems," said Grasp, "Is't not so?"

"It is so," said Neville.

"Ergo, it is profitable," said Grasp.

"It is so," said Neville.

"Then am I content to encounter the danger," said Grasp, "since I am well aware that titles, honours, and profit are not to be gained without some sort of risk; and now tell us, honoured sir, what is to be done."

"To discover a plot and arrest the traitors," said Neville.

"Ah," said Grasp, with alacrity, "that were indeed a circumstance. An you could find such a matter as a ready-made plot, and light upon a nest of traitors, I should say you were in luck's way, as usual, good Master Neville."

William Shakespeare as He Lived: An Historical Tale

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