next morning Charlecote and its deer-park, as the scene of an adventure which, in its ultimate consequences, had contributed so essentially not only to his own prosperity, but to the very being and perfection of dramatic poetry in England; a request which, we may well conceive, from the channel through which it came, and from the mode in which it was enforced, could only be assented to by the poet with the utmost cordiality and good humour.

Stratford College, erected in the reign of Edward the Third, by Ralph de Stratford, afterwards bishop of London, was now the mansion and residence of William Combe, Esq. the nephew of John Combe, who had died the year before, who had been the friend, and often the companion of Shakspeare. The present pos

At the time

and wooing girls.' ·(Athen. Oxon. i. 371.) here referred to, Thornborough was a bachelor of arts, and twenty-two years old."

Various other passages to the same effect are given by Mr. Malone, who remarks as the result of the whole, that “it is clear, therefore, that this kind of trespass, even were it justly imputable to Shakspeare, would not leave any very deep stain on his character, being, in his time, considered merely as a playful ‹ trick of youth.' '— Vol. ii. p. 132 et seq.

sessor, who was about thirty years of

age, was a man of estimable character and amiable manners, and a warm admirer also of the talents and the virtues of Shakspeare, who cherished both for him and his younger brother Thomas a very sincere regard, and now spoke of them to Montchensey, as they proceeded towards the College, in terms of affectionate friendship.

This venerable building, constructed of hewn free-stone, and of considerable strength and size, was situated on the west side of the church-yard, and, being not destitute of architectural beauty, and surrounded by extensive pleasure-grounds and gardens, was justly considered as an ornament to the town. The east, or principal entrance, was under a massy porch or door-way, opening into a spacious hall extending the whole length of the central front, vaulted to the roof, and its coving richly ornamented with stuccowork; whilst the north wing, which, previous to the dissolution, had been occupied by the warden and officiating priests, was now arranged into three ample apartments, a withdrawing room, a banqueting room, and a library. Into the first of these were Shakspeare, his family

and friends, introduced, and here they had the pleasure of meeting Lord Carew of Clopton, and his lady, Sir Thomas Stafford, his lordship's natural son, then upon a visit to Clopton House, and Dr. and Mrs Hall.

It was a spectacle truly gratifying to Montchensey and his daughter, to witness the cordiality and pleasure with which Shakspeare was welcomed, not only by his intimate friends, the Combes, but by the noble family of Clopton, who seemed, from their marked attention to the poet, to show how well they could appreciate the value of his great and incomparable talents. Nor was Montchensey himself a total stranger either to Mr. Combe, whom he had more than once seen at Warwick, or to the visitors from Clopton House, as during a residence in Ireland in the year 1600, in a military capacity, he had become acquainted with Sir Thomas Stafford, then secretary to his father, Sir George Carew, as president of Munster. A recognition was soon established; and Shakspeare then stepping forward, introduced his lovely guest, the fair and blushing Helen, to the admiration of his friends. He had claimed this as his delightful

and peculiar privilege, and it was, indeed, a sight more than commonly attractive, to behold beauty thus led on by genius of unrivalled lustre.

It was scarcely possible, indeed, to see Helen Montchensey without being interested in her favour, such was the fascinating, and at the same time the intelligent expression of her features; but it was to the sweetness of her disposition, and the unaffected simplicity of her manners, that she owed her influence over the mind of Shakspeare, who seemed to contemplate in her a living counterpart of what his fancy had formed whilst sketching the bewitching portraits of Viola and Fidele.

To be thus the avowed favourite of the man beyond all others skilled in the knowledge of the human heart, was, in itself, a powerful recommendation to all; but, when enforced by female loveliness, irresistible. There was one, however, by whom the scene was viewed with feelings peculiarly his own; for how shall we paint the proud gratification of the father, when he beheld him whom he had long enthusiastically venerated as first among the sons of men for creative energy of talent, thus present

ing his beloved daughter to the notice and approbation of his best and most valued acquaintance!

With the exception of Lord Southampton, there were few noblemen, perhaps, better qualified by their taste and literature, and experience of life, and none more willing, from an intimacy with the virtues of the man, to do justice to the merits of Shakspeare, than was Lord Carew. He had ever been also peculiarly susceptible to the attractions of the softer sex ; but to pay homage to beauty from the hand of Shakspeare, formed a duty singularly novel and interesting, and which he discharged with more than his wonted courtesy and grace.

Nor could any thing be more friendly or hospitably kind than the conduct and civilities of Mr. and Mrs. Combe, who, while they paid all due respect to fortune, rank, and title, were at the same time most assiduously attentive to Shakspeare, conscious how far beyond wealth or heraldic distinction were the deathless honours of their humble townsman. This was a sentiment, indeed, even in that stately and almost feudal age of magnificence, common, as hath