which shall be nameless, hath been drooping in despair ever since thy departure !”

"Master Jonson," interposed Montchensey, and rising at the same time with an expression of deep enthusiasm, "give me your hand! An I do not place you in my heart, aye in my heart of hearts, for what you have now so kindly said and urged, never trust me more! Yes, Master Jonson, much as I laud you for your truly classic and most judicious works, for your right pithy, humorous, and ever-to-be-admired comedies, I praise you still more for the warmth of friendship, and deep feeling of esteem which, I now plainly see, notwithstanding some peculiarity in your manner, you inwardly cherish for our ever honoured host; a friendship, the memory of which, in spite of all that malevolence, now or hereafter, may bring forward to the contrary, shall endure to distant times! I drink peace and God's blessing to you, Master Jonson, with my hearty prayers for your success, as well in what you are now trying to effect, by urging our beloved Shakspeare to a re-union with his Muse, your own more immediate labours for the

as in stage."

"Master Montchensey,” replied Ben, greatly struck with the energetic tone of his address, and flattered at the same time by the frank and honest warmth with which he had expressed his good opinion, "you are a man after my own heart, and whilst I quaff this flask of Canary to our better acquaintance, I make bold to tell you, after my cordial thanks for your kind wishes on my behalf, that in all which relates to my inestimable friend here, and I say it before his face, you do me but justice against the carpings of a slanderous world; aye, and the knaves shall know it too, ere long. In the mean time, Master Montchensey, I am right glad to find I may reckon upon you as my ally in this affair, and could we but secure your blooming daughter here, as our advocate, I doubt not but we should carry the day."

"Indeed, my dear Sir," said Helen Montchensey, blushing, and bestowing on the halfenamoured bard one of her most bewitching regards, "greatly as we are indebted to you for your own valuable productions, and more particularly for the lyric parts of your delightful masques, which for elegance and sprightliness

both of thought and measure, are amongst my especial favourites, you will powerfully add to our obligations if you can but succeed in persuading our kind host to resume his dramatic career; for, after such a last piece, as he has been pleased to give us, though erringly, I trust, as to the use of the term, in his exquisite Twelfth Night, it is impossible for the public not to wish, and, indeed, considering all things, not to claim, that the farewell epithet should prove a perfect

misnomer."

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Body o'me, Master Shakspeare,” cried Jonson, somewhat exhilarated by the mellow raciness of the wine, and the touching smiles of youth and beauty, "an this do not restore you once more to the arms of Thalia and Melpomene, I know not what will." Then turning to Helen, with as much gallantry as the constitutional roughness of his manners would admit, "My kind affections to you, Mistress Helen," he continued, holding up a goblet of choice Canary, "praise from the lips of beauty hath ever been held most dear by the genuine bard; and whilst I would fain hope it may have its due weight with our admired contemporary here, let me, on

mine own part declare, I feel its influence at my heart, and that, passing the cup to your acceptance, as I now crave leave to do, pardon me if I add in the words of one whom I have lately taught to speak our native tongue, what best accords with my feelings at the present moment." Then, rising up, and placing the cup in the hands of the somewhat astonished Helen, he burst forth in a tone of rapturous delight,

"Drink to me only with thine eyes,
And I will pledge with mine,

Or leave a kiss but in the cup,
And I'll not look for wine:

"The thirst, that from the soul doth rise,
Doth ask a drink divine,

But might I of Jove's nectar sip,

I would not change for thine."

Why how now, Ben," exclaimed Shakspeare, smiling and enjoying the scene, "thou art still, I see, the same mad rogue as ever; a flagon of sack, and a brace of bright eyes, and the world may spin round as it lists! Faith, an thou wert but some fifteen or twenty years younger, it might behove Master Montchensey

now to look well to his charge. But I tell thee what, Ben, if ever I do pen another comedy, and I know not what friendship and flattery, when backed by the rhetoric of my lovely young guest here, may not achieve, thou shalt certainly have a nich in the Dramatis Persona; for, look where I will, I shall not readily, either in a moral or dramatic point of view, find a better sample of rich and humorous, though rough integrity, than thou art like to prove.”

"Thou art heartily welcome, Will, to make the most thou canst of me," replied the poet jocosely; "but, gramercy! what have we gotten here?" he continued, pointing to the heavens, which appeared suddenly illumined, as if by the reflection of a ruddy blaze.

"You seem to have forgotten, my good friend," returned Shakspeare, "that we are now on the verge of Midsummer Eve, the vigil of the Baptist, and some of my young townsmen are, I warrant me, anticipating by a bon-fire, the more general rejoicings for the night. Bye and bye, with your permission, and that of Master Montchensey and my neighbours here, we will, as is the custom of the times, grace their