Evening star., 1925-05-22
One OF a series Of the
years best short
stories,

| Burbage turned and crossed his legs
In the direction of The query. AS
ever, when~ ~Burbage was present.
Shakespeare followed his motions
How could p man so feshed melt
movement tnko grace so exquisite a?
Just as on the stage, though talfow
faced and thickly featured. he trans
formed himself into q god And as
inevitably as Shakspere watched his
friends motion he listened for his
friends yoice-that sleek, silky voice
that could make thunder of a whisper
and turn every woman in the pit
white with the stilled passion of it's
love- e-sighfng. What Romeo he had
besn--the beautiful noble face of
him. And then his Richard, which
had made the affrighted city madams
faint; had made them forget who
wrote that Richard. Acting in the
same play with Burbage, shake
spere reflected whimsieally. he had
often acted better than he could
that voice had smade him. Dick,
Shakspere reflected. had had his
problems, TOO. Should he have acted
or painted? And had he chosen act
ing-Shakspere had often pondered
this-because of that old debt, OF be-
cause il was easier drifting
Bea eaumont, on the other hand, pre-
sented always one aspect 10 the
world, albeit a noble and beautiful
one. He was the handsemest man of
them all, tall and fair, golden beard
ed, with wide-opened, strangely set
green ewes: statuesquely cut as TO
figure. No one of them really knew
Francis Beaumont, except it he
Fletcher; and Shakspere had his
moments when he doubted if even
John knew his partner and cola be-
rator. 1t was NOT his university edu-
cation that held them off from Beau
mont or him from them, for both
Fletcher and Jonson had equal learn
ing. Or his court connections, for the
Mermaid circle had the impervious-
ness TO rank which associated genius
often begets. No; il was a quality of
remoteness from which nothing in
life or any degree of living could
ever free Beaumont. What had
dragged Beaumont down from those
mental mountain fastness to so play
writing?
Fletcher was as different from
Beaumont as he well might be; little,
dark, tousled looking, effeminately
made; of an extraordinary silver
wittedness, mental viyidness, and,
above ALL creative fecundity. John
spawned plots as he talked. 1t was
perfect collaboration, Shakspere
had always thought: for Beaumont
supplied Judgment, taste, sense of
proportion, constructive ability,
workmanlike scrupulosity and a real
poetic quality. Fletcher, on the other
hand, brought to their work a vir-
gin forest of thought and idea, plot
and plan. Shakspere admired and
respected Beaumont, but he had a
stra nge mental affinity with Fletcher.
You d remembered Moll Firth had
you seen her, John" Burbage in
formed Fletcher dryly She's as tall
as Frank and I'll not say as big, but
bigger. She can hold two lads with
her one hand while she murders them
with the other--a fist as big as the
moor OF horse. A handsome wench
beside--red- headed and yeliew-e eyed.
Her hair comes to her heels and
sometimes 1t pieases her to wear it
In that fashion. 'Tis a blaze then,
running from her head TO the ground.
shes fought her way, every inch. to
her. nor would dare cross her, but
would give her soul to be chosen as
her friend. No man crosses her, nor
would dare love her, but would give
his ears to be picked as her
swain. She's fieeced more gulls and
conies--- Not at all unlike" he
added dryly, although their spheres
be far separate, our late noble virgin
ma ajesty, Elizabeth"
"'Tis pity, VIII, you saw her not
first," said Hemminge.
And at that the room filled with
ribaldry. The adoring reverence, the
admiring worship that poor stupid
John Hemminge held for Will Shaks-
pere was the jest and butt of the
Mermaid Club. Ben. especially at
this moment, shook like a mountain
of jelly Hemminge was placidly
indifferent. He turned now his big
gray eyes-save for their love as ex-
pressioniess as those of a hound
upon the object of his solieitude. He
was big. bulky creature-Hem-
minge. Beside Beaumont he was as
a farm stallion to q knights charger.
Yet on his trips through the stews
of the town it was to John Hem
minge, not TO Beaumont, that the
Dolls and Molls and Polls shot their
first lewd welcomes of glance and
greeting.
hcontinued In Tomorrow's Star.)