rush barking out; and in a moment the herd is in flight. A buck is seen to stagger, and the poachers start in pursuit. Whether short or long, the chace was successful, and the dogs fell on the drooping stag, and pulled him down. They were still by the side of the brook "Under an oak whose antique root peeps out With his butcher's knife in his hand, and even while fulfilling his vocation, Shakespeare was not unobservant of the scene, or indifferent to the sufferings of the "wretched animal." It had been wiser to have kept watch. The deer was cut up; the spoil apportioned; and the party jested and laughed as they pushed through the trees. But they had begun to whistle before they were out of the wood. Suddenly there was an alarm, but too late: the keepers were upon them. It was a fair stand-up fight. If blood flowed, it was from broken heads; for Shakespeare never thought of using his knife. That was a resource unknown to our ancestors. But, however carried on, the struggle ended in the rout of the poachers, and Shakespeare was left a prisoner. It is not to be supposed that he received much comfort from his captors as they dragged him off. The discourse on such occasions is not reassuring; and prisoners who have killed deer and broken keepers' heads are made to understand that they will have to pay for their sport. It was with full information on this point that Shakespeare was left to ruminate on his situation in the strong-room of the gatehouse at Charlecote. His captors, we may believe, took 1'As You Like It,' act ii. 1. counsel on the facts before they separated, and resolved to lose no time in bringing him up for judgment. In this mood they may have burst into the room on the following morning. But vain are the purposes of men. The bird had flown, and the room was empty. "Knight, you have beaten my men, killed my deer, and broke open my lodge."1 1 'Merry Wives of Windsor,' act i. 1. 136 XII. HIS WORSHIP THE JUSTICE AND HIS FRIENDS. CHARLECOTE HOUSE stands on the south bank of the Avon, rather more than four miles from Stratford. In Shakespeare's day it was the residence of Sir Thomas Lucy, who was, indeed, its founder, though the surrounding estate had been held by his family from the time of the Conquest. It is still in possession of his descendants, and the mansion presents much the same aspect as of old, showing its ruddy face behind the arched gatehouse, like a country lass's of the time under her wimple. We can now remove all doubt as to the founder of this antique pile, being the Justice Shallow of Shakespeare. The fact is mentioned by Ward, in the manuscript pedigree of the family; and it is worthy of remark, that the only one of Shakespeare's plays of an old date, found at Charlecote, is a copy of the octavo edition of 'The Merry Wives of Windsor,' published in 1619, which was lately discovered by Mrs. Lucy, among the family records. A careful comparison will show that the Justice Shallow of this play is the one of 'King Henry IV.'—with a difference! In short, we must regard him here as presenting not only the better man, but the truer portrait. Both are satires; but in King Henry IV.' the poet is avenging himself; and in The Merry Wives of Windsor,' while blending with a remembrance of his own quarrel an impression that it was too fiercely pursued, he is, as we shall hereafter see, but the champion of his patron. Ptolemy identified the courtier who hoaxed Apelles by the profile which the artist drew on the wall; and Shakespeare has given such outlines to Justice Shallow as insured his recognition at Stratford. Of the direct reference to Sir Thomas Lucy in the word-play on his arms we shall speak in another chapter, when the point of the satire, which has never yet been shown, will be made more apparent. Let us now merely remark how beautifully Shakespeare, throughout The Merry Wives,' seems to preserve the original mould of the character, while shading it imperceptibly off, so that Shallow becomes an unsophisticated, and indeed lovable, country gentleman, still a little vain, indeed, keeping up all his old consequence, and with a sharp. eye to his own interest, but disposed withal to join everybody in making things pleasant. The portrait in 'King Henry IV.' is drawn in a different spirit, under the sting of resentment, and with his quarrel fresh in his mind. Here the Knight appears with every marked feature prominent— a swaggerer and simpleton, the dupe of Davy and the butt of Falstaff: yet, even in his fury, gentle Will keeps bounds. There is a good-nature about this old country Justice after all, and, somehow or other, we get to like him. Nor is his simplicity without a leaven of shrewdness. He allows Falstaff to wheedle him out of a thousand pounds, but it had the look of a very fair investment at the time, and it was not the act of a simpleton when the luck turned to strike in for halves, though he found it impossible to get butter out of Falstaff's throat. The Justice would have had a good return, if "sweet Jack" had remained powerful at court. He was to be "my Lord Shallow." Falstaff would "make the king do him grace." Is this said without meaning, or does it imply that Sir Thomas Lucy was aspiring to the peerage to the extinct barony of De Lucy? The family archives have just disclosed a fact, which now first appears in print, but which could easily have been known to Shakespeare,—namely, that Sir Thomas Lucy had sent a fat buck as a present to Queen Elizabeth. This both proves that he was paying court to the queen, and removes all doubt as to there being deer in the park, which, indeed, may be thought to have been already done by Mr. Collier. When the rumour of the present reached Stratford, more than Shakespeare might imagine that Sir Thomas was aiming to be my Lord Lucy, and, in truth, as the heir of the Lords de Lucy, and inheritor of their name, he might feel warranted in aspiring to this dignity. Shallow's attempt to recover his money from Falstaff, when the case was perfectly desperate, gives point to an entry in the accounts of the Stratford chamberlain, which shows that Sir Thomas Lucy entertained the same repugnance to surrendering bad debts. He there "prayeth allowance for five shillings and fourpence for the rent of the tythe of Little Wilmcote; for that he could not receive it of Mr. William Underhill." Why he should expect to receive it of Stratford is not stated, but it is evident that Sir Thomas was not particular as to who paid it, so long as it was paid. The claim would seem to have been too unreasonable to be entertained by the Stratford authorities, for it obtains no further mention, though they were most anxious to keep him in good humour. This is proved by their outlays for providing him with refreshments, whenever duty or pleasure carried him to the town-which was not often, the visits of justices being in this respect more like angels' visits in those days than they are understood by modern delinquents. From the items entered in the chamberlain's accounts, we learn that Sir Thomas had a special liking for sugar. In 1578 he was regaled with "a pottle of wine and a quartern of sugar." The refection provided for him on the 12th of |