that, provided nothing should occur to counterpoise my present impressions, I will use every effort to restore this desponding young varlet to the wonted good-graces of your father." Thus conversing, they had nearly, and almost imperceptibly to themselves, reached the Hall, when from a thicket, or kind of wilderness, which skirted the pleasure garden, there started forth one of those customary appendages of the domestic establishment of the times, which, under the appellation of the knave, or fool, was deemed to be an indispensable protection against the encroachments of tedium and ennui. He was dressed in the usual costume of the character, in particoloured coat and hose, with hood and cocks-comb, bells and bauble, and came skipping towards them in high glee, clapping his hands, and pointing to his young mistress as he danced along, and singing "The bonniest lass in all the land.” "Ah, Morley, my honest man," cried Helen, "and where is my father?" I am afraid he has thought me a sad defaulter from his side this morning."-"Odds my life! Mistress Helen, but you'll be rated soundly, I can tell ye," answered Morley, grinning; “an' I had not as lief be skinned and fly-blown as stand in your shoes, never trust me." 66 Why, what's the matter, knave?" said Helen, laughing. "Matter, why there's nuncle yonder, chafing and fretting as he ambles up and down by his peach-wall, and swears you have run away with his poet." "You see into what a scrape you have already gotten me, Master Shakspeare," exclaimed Helen, whilst Morley, struck by the name, jumped almost half his own height, calling out in an ecstasy, "Body of me; an a fool and a poet may shake hands," running up to the bard, and stretching forth his arm, "there's my digits; but you must not away with my lady-bird," he continued, his features relaxing from a broad expression of delight into one of sorrowful import; and then, keenly surveying his new acquaintance from head to foot, he added, softly, his countenance brightening as he muttered," Safe, safe, -- day, a little too late i'the day. a little too late i'the *" Oken leaves began to wither Heavilie, heavilie, heigh ho!" "And so, fool, I am to conclude," said Shakspeare, smiling, "that you think me too far gone in the vale of years to play the wooer any longer. Why, you rogue, spite of thy sunken eye and withered cheek, I do suspect thou hast thyself a favourite in a corner yet." "Bless thy five wits, how they jump to the mark!" cried Morley, leering at the poet, and repeating "Hey, Robyn Jolly Robyn, Tell me how thy leman doth, And thou shalt knowe of mine :" and then, turning to his young mistress with a countenance of the most ludicrous gravity, he added, "The smoakie sighes, the bitter teares "Pooh, pooh, Morley," exclaimed Helen, somewhat impatiently, "prythee cease thy fooling, and tell me where my father is." "By the foot of Pharaoh, madam mine," returned the provoking knave, assuming a most consequential air, "we whom the gods have made poetical must not hide our talent in a napkin. "Build me of boughs a little bower, "Nay, an thou wilt not answer a plain question, fool," interrupted Helen, "I must be fain to have thee put in the stocks;" a threat which, though seldom, if ever, carried into execution, had usually its effect upon poor Morley, who dreading this infringement on human liberty, would become alarmed on the instant; and accordingly, on this occasion, after quoting, in what he thought a very touching manner, the quaint line "I love thee, my darling, as ball of mine eye," he added, "Follow, follow me, nuncle's by the south peach-wall;" and vaulting on before, and beckoning them to follow, and ever and anon turning to hasten their step, nodding and grimacing to Helen, and singing A pretye foote to trippe and goe, And marvellous slowe in majestye, he led them into the copse, and through that into the adjoining pleasure grounds. "We shall find my father, I dare say," said Helen to her companion, "somewhere in the gardens, and we will, therefore, for once, take the fool for our guide."—" A broken reed, I am afraid," remarked Shakspeare, "for the rogue looks, by his sly and consequential leer, as if some wise scheme were ripening in his brain.” They now, however, following close after Morley, entered a grove, ornamented with trellis work and walks of close-shorn verdure, and so embrowned with trees that, as honest Hentzner says, "it seemed a place pitched on by pleasure to dwell in, along with health." From this they suddenly stept on a delicate and open green, on the further side of which, |