Rutland herald. [volume] (Rutland, Vt.) 1823-1847, 1843-04-11

which, spanning the noble river, bore on ITS gran
tic shoulders a hundred houses; long shadows
were cast eastward the ,ide rushing through the
arches created a slumberous sound the Globe
Theatre on the banksde where Shakespeare per.
sonn,ed his own immortal creations, had closed its
doors when an individual who had lately stood
within the walls of atiemple Of Thespr, proceed.
cd to the nearest s,aE, and springing into his
wherry, he rowed lesurely out into the broad
stream.
The gallant whom We are about TO describe
though on terms Of familiar greeting with Essex,
Raleigh and the choice wits Of the day, did not be.
long TO the arlstocratic class vet his own per-
son and bearing, na,tre,s nobility was stamped
that lofty forehead spoke3ai intellectual superiority
tho eye, though subdu -, ~n1 somewhat downcast
through the minds abstraction, had that search
ing glance which can read mems souls the brows
were drawn from their natural arch almost 10
straight lines, and gave to his physognomy an
expression of sternneSs which, however was re.
deemed by the humor which lurked around the
thin-lipped handsome mouth his jetty beard was
| short and peaked conical hat with single
feather, adorned his head his doublet was slashed
and of the fines, broadcoth; his rufiles were Of
rich Flanders lace, and the hilt OF his straight
sword-a present from the queen, was set with ri.
bles. And this was the deer.staker of S,ratford-
on-Avon, this was Shakespeare.
The great dramatls was now in the summer Of
his days, and (f we may be allowed the metaphor)
the alp OF his renown had begun to put forth those
leaves, the beauty and freshness of which have en-.
dured for three centuries Genius, as regards its
alteration Of the sex, is sometimes content TO feed
on dreams Of ideal beauty But at this period Of
his life, the Bard of Avon, it would seem, was not
satisfied with worshpping phantasy. Petrarch
and his platones offered nothing suited TO his tenn
| 81 H. Il a.
enthrall ordinary men. Love ofone object, warm,
breathing living, had kindled its fires in his heart,
Cold seemed the creatures Of his plastic fancy to
his lovely incarnation of all his poetic dreamngs,
this sweet pa pable shrine OF the immortal spirit,
and TO pour forth his love vows, and to press the
lily hand Of his sweet Jessy did Shakespeare, on
the night in question, urge his wherry down the
Thames
Jesse was the daughter ofthe despised people who
regard Abraham as their great progenitor. Her
father was an usurer and jeweler, and hung out
his sign on the Old London Bridge 1t was jus,
above the third arch from the city side, ere the
Dutchman Morris had erected his water.works,
that old Manasseh dwelt There were but two
things in the world dear unto him--his money,
and his daughter. From her extreme loveliness
Jessy had obtained 'ho so,fbrquet OF, Beauty OF
London Bridge" Many of the illusrious of her
tribe had sought her hand in marriage but Jessy
was deaf to each splendid overture Several
Christians, also offered to lay their titles and rich
es at her feet; but here Manasseh angrily interpo
scd, since from principle, as well as inclination, he
bitterly loathed the followers of one whom his ma
ton stigmatizes as the false Messiah Yes the
Jew would have acted, if possible, Steiner par,
than Virginius-he would have stranglcd his
beloved and lovely child ere seen her polluted by
an union with Christian.
Shakspeare's wherry glided on, and in few
minutes, having entered the deep shadow Of the
arch, he landed on the wide, projecting starting.
Jessy's sleeping apartment was far above; but the
girl unknown 10 her father, had the key Of the low
er chamber, which opened upoun small balcony;
and thence, by means ola short ladder Of ropes,
she let herself down into the arms Of the enamor-
ed poet
Shakespeare resigned his sculls to his young at
,endant, who knew his duty too well to listen tc
! the conversation Of the lovers The beautiful
Jewess was wrap in velvet mantle, bordered with
miniver Her large, dark, passionate eyes were
now raised TO the heavens, spangled with stars
and now fixed in melting tenderness on him who
sat by her side. And thus glided on--solt ligh
above murmuring waters mountaineering in
, tremulous whispers, and experiencing in thos'
a stolen moments Of recprocated affection. all th'
bliss that man is capable of wringing from thu
p
We shall detail a! length the conversation which
, passed between Shakespeare and his Jcssy Thu
nightly they had met, and brcathed their vows 0
faith, and in each others presence, had forgotten
the world, and its cold restrictions Jossy only
lrembled lest her father should discover her amour
for rarely day passed without Manasseh's bite
reylling, and his heaping curses upon the Chris
,ians.
: If thou dost love me, said Shakespeare prcssin!
the maiden's hand, thou will never again entc
the habi,aton OF one who, harsh, bigotted aud cru
: Ell, is unworthy to call thee daughter, Jessy dea
one, true one fee with me this night will pro
leci thee againS thousand fathers This bosom
shall be Thy home and, in return thy lose shall
be my paradise
Not yet said the girl limidly i will pray t
:. him will strive TO bend his wll-ani perhap
!. he will reent Moreover, harsh though be be,
$ love my father and would no, desert him in hi
/ old years
d Swee. one, Gistre., not thyseIf-be true to IN
q; vow-con,nuc TO love me, as | worship thee, an
o shall be happy
z The moon had nearly set, and deep gloom wa
" falling over the river Jessy anxious 10 return
d and the wherry shot back to the bridge As the
a. approached, Shakespeare perceived the figure Of
man stanling on the broad Startling beneath ih
Ie Jews residence
n IL is only a waterman, love, there he is gone
is be has sprung. | doubl not, into his boat,
ie Jessy lrembied bu, the man had indeed disa,
j Deare1 around the buirets giving them reason