Evening star., 1925-05-23
Continued from Yesterdays Starr

True, John!" Shakspere applauded
dryly. "'Tis pity saw her not first.
'Tis PITY know you think, and l
agree-that any of these poor scrib-
blers here were ever born to take from
me dramatic share of the romance and
poetry that lies bound in merry Eng
land"
"Oh, Will'-Fletcher turned the talk
hast heard of Daborne and his new
children's company? More little eyases'
to make us trouble. OF the new theater
near the Paris Gardens"
The talk went on. The smoochy
waiter-lad-his scared eye scuttling
at Jonsons every move to Jonson's
face-filled their tankards with Canary
again and again and again. The big
fire died down at intervals, but some
one always replenished it from a pile
of logs at the side. When the flames
burned high they turned the little
rounds of Opaque glass in the case
ments to files of glaring eyes; the
room seemed crowded. They illuminat-
ed the farthest corner, except that one,
already illumined by the flame of a
candle, where twinkling Tom Haywood
wrote steadily on despite the talk
wrote steadily on even though he
Joined in that talk. The big plain room
had an aspect of home to Shakspere;
for 1t had housed thousands of wine
bedewed, discussion-ridden nights
whose talk had touched the stars
Every drawing on its walls was famil-
lar TO him, every ribald CouDlet And
the men in it We're his friends. true
and tried Not that he had not had his
differences major and minor, with
them: not that he liked them equally.
but no one amng them but was linked
In some picturesque or glorious way
INTO the chain of his London existence
Ana when the blaze died down to a
softer glow that failed to pick out
faces, its CLEAN on pewter tankards,
on laughter-tilled eyes. companioned
the room again for him. Shakspere
listened and drew them out for stories:
nStened and If the talk threatened to
run into one of their uproarious duels
OF Wit, drew them out again But that
ulu not happen often. BY sheer force
OF VIII ne made 1t night of anecdote
and reminiscence. There was plenty
OF talk. There We're the latest tales
OF Henslowe's niggardliness-no Mer-
T Tldlu nlght was a success without a
HensloWe interval. From Beaumont
there were stories of the production
OF the Knight of the Burning Pestle."
from Fletcher of the handsome wav
Tom Haywood had helped them in
tnelr satire on him; from Ben, of the
production of the "Alchemist" and OF
the ulihcult1es he was having with a
IAos' edldlI.le damned dull
arama or desperation" he described II
80 duil had it become, indeed. thar he
had begun a new, highly contra astinp
one. When the talk turned to the mast
SonSon spun long yarn of the week
ne ana Marston and Chapman spent
III prison the time Eastward Ho" was
produced. Burbage told Of his acting
experiences as child-those reminis.
cences went as far hack as "Hie
ronlmo'-intersper with sucb bits Of
iIhprolnptu acting as made his auditors
hold their breath
AS long after midnight Shakspere
turned into Montjoy house it was with
d sense of perfect calm. All his melan-
cnoiies had vanished in the high. clear
would sit down and write. write-oh
God, how he would write,
but next morning. although the
udy was rare and the sun poured its
neartening gold over the entire Lon
oon world, though quill and white
paper were close at hand, through
bllstress Montjoy by whispered bribes
OF threats held the entire household
under the spell of a auietude like
death itself, write he could not. Ewes
closed, mind held taut, he tried to
relleVe last nights rapturous mood.
10 dlstlll 1t into the days expression.
All useless, He scribbled half lines
ana broken phrases, drew strange
amateur pictures, thought hard with
ms down-bent head clutched in his
hands; thought hard, pacing the
room the while; thought hard, face.
oown upon his bed. All useless. ANY
thlns else he might accomplish. But
OF certainty one thing he could not
do-and that was write. 1t added
70 mis- sense of gloom that out of his
early-morning talk with Mistress
Montjoy he had CLEANED a coming
trouble in the Montjoy family. The
old dispute in regard to their daught-
or Juliet and her dowry. Mont
JOY and his son-in-law no longer spoke:
there were whispers about a suit at
law. OF course, in that case, he'd
De summoned as a witness. Well
he'd stand with "Juliet"-the pet of
his long years of living with the
MontJoy family. This phantom care
kept coming between him and his
thought. Maddened at last by his
ineptness and deadnesS, he seized his
hat and cape; sailed forth. Automati-
cally he made toward Cheapside
1t was fair London scene the day
clear, the wind flawing but brisk:
and in other times or in another mood
Shakspere's heart would have leap
ed to the color and hustle and gay
ETY. of it all. Cheapside was crowded
with shoppers and strollers; house
wives with baskets; gallants in plumes