"I do assure you, Sir Reginald "Fie, sir!" exclaimed his companion roughly. "Thou hast a rapier-methinks thou shouldst know the use of it. Leave thy tongue, and take to a fitter weapon." And so saying he drew his own from its scabbard. 66 By all that's honourable in knighthood"What!" exclaimed the other, fiercely interrupting him; "wouldst play the coward as well as the villain! wouldst do me such foul wrong as thou hast been about, and then shrink from the punishment thou hast so justly deserved? O' my conscience, I thought not so mean a wretch was to be found. Draw, caitiff, without a word more, or I will beat thee like a dog." "As Heaven is my witness, I entertain this quarrel most reluctantly," said Sir Valentine, drawing out his rapier. "I cannot see that I have wronged you in any way; and I am convinced you would be the first to say so, knew you all that hath happened." "To thy defence, sirrah!" replied Sir Reginald, angrily. "I am not to be cozened out of a proper vengeance." And at this he began very furiously to thrust at his companion, who sought only to defend himself, which he did with such skill, that his opponent got more enraged every moment, and gave him all manner of ill words; but still Sir Valentine kept on his defence, and would not so much as make a single pass at his friend. This continued till Sir Reginald, pressing on with desperate haste, fell on his opponent's rapier with his whole force. "Alack, what have I done!" exclaimed the young knight, as he beheld his faithful companion in arms drop bleeding to the ground. "Oh, I have slain the noblest knight that ever wielded spear, and the truest friend that ever was sincere to man. O' my life, I meant to do you no hurt, and I can say with the same honesty I have done you no offence." Finding he got no answer, he knelt beside his wounded friend, and took his hand, and entreated him very movingly he would not die at enmity with him, if he was as dangerously hurt as he seemed. Still he received no reply, which put him almost in a frenzy, by assuring him he had killed him. Finding, however, that Sir Reginald breathed, he very carefully took him in his arms, and placed him so that he might recline against the broad stem of a neighbouring tree, and then leaping on his steed, he started off at the top of his speed to get the necessary assistance. CHAPTER X. No wher so besy a man as he ther n'as, How that foolish man, CHAUCER. That reads the story of a woman's face, l' the morning with you, and at night behind you, A mere confusion, and so dead a chaos, BEAUMONT AND FLETCHER. I washed an Ethiope, who, for recompense, MARSTON. THE love of the youthful Shakspeare for the yeoman's blooming daughter flourished the more, the more it was fed by her sunny glances, and in these, he basked as often as he could find opportunity; but, at this period, his visits to the cottage were mostly late at night, when her father and the children were asleep in their beds. This arose from a cause which must here be described. He was now growing towards man's estate, and it often occurred to him, when he was in his own little chamber, fitted by himself with his own two or three books on a shelf-a chair for sitting-a little table for writing on-and a truckle bed for his lying,that he ought to be doing of something for himself, and so save his poor parents the burthen of his provision. Such reflections would come upon him,, when he had been wearing away the deep midnight with anxious study; and so one morning, having come to a resolution, he dressed himself with all neatness, and bent his steps towards Jemmy Catchpole's, whom he had heard was in want of some one, to copy papers and parchment and such things. He saw the little lawyer, after waiting a monstrous time in a low narrow chamber, whereof it was difficult to say whether the boards or the ceiling were in the dirtiest state, who, hearing of his errand, made him write as he dictated, at which he looked very intently, and though it was as fair a specimen of penmanship as might be seen any where, he found wonderful fault with it. However, the end of it was, Jemmy Catchpole offered to employ the youth, and for his services give him a knowledge of the law for the first year or so; and after that, should he have made any reasonable progress in his studies, he would him a handsome wage. pay offer was gladly accepted, for although he could gain no present profit by it, his sanguine nature saw in it a most bountiful prospect. This Behold him now, in that den of a place just alluded to, surrounded by musty parchments and mouldering papers, with scarce ever any other company than the rats and the spiders, sitting on a tottering stool at a worm-eaten desk, writing from the early morning till late into the evening, save at such times as he was allowed to get his meals, or to go of errands for his employer. It was about this time that he began to take especial note of the humours of men, wherever he could get sight of them; marking in his mind that distinctiveness in the individual, which made him differ from his fellows; and observing, with quite as much minuteness, the manner in which the professions of his acquaintances were in accordance or in opposition to their ways of living. By this peculiar curiousness of his, he took characters as a limner taketh portraits, having each feature so set down from the original, that he could carry such about with him wherever he went. This he had certain facilities of doing in his new occupation, as, finding him exceeding apt, the lawyer soon employed him as his assistant wherever he went, which brought him into every sort of company; for Jemmy Catchpole had every body's business on his hands, or, at least, he made many think so, and he bustled about_from place to place, as if the world must needs stand still unless he gave it his help. Such occasions, and the observations he drew |