"Ah, that will I, with all true earnestness," exclaimed the other, as he immediately raised the wine to his lips.

"And I most heartily wish, as all England must wish, that your life be long preserved to delight and enrich this island with your right excellent labours."

"Thank you, worthy Master Francis, thank you," said his host, shaking his companion cordially by the hand; "it is gratifying to be praised at all, but to be praised by those who can appreciate, is the most exquisite of flattery. And now let me pledge you to our better acquaintance," added he, as he poured out a brimming cup for himself, "and may success attend you equal to your deserts,-which be of no common order."

"You are too liberal in your commendation-indeed you are," observed the youth, as a slight blush appeared upon his countenance. "Not a whit man, not a whit," replied his host, as he finished his draught. "There can be no harm in praising a modest man; for if the desert be not equal to the praise, he will not rest till he make it so. But your cup is empty."

"Nay, good Master Shakspeare," exclaimed the other, as he noticed his host refilling the cup-"if it please you, no more."

"But it does not please me, Master Francis," said his companion, jocosely.

"I am not used to drinking of wine of a morning, and it may chance get in my head."

"No vessel can be the worse for containing good wine, Master Francis. So you must e'en drink another cup.'

"I thank you, but I would rather not," said Master Francis falteringly, as the vessel was handed to him.

"What, hesitate to drink the queen's health?" exclaimed Master Shakspeare in seeming astonishment. "Why, how now? Surely loyalty hath gone out of the land, if the guest of one of her majesty's poor players refuse to join him in drinking the health of Queen Elizabeth."

"I thought not of that;" remarked the other, quietly taking the wine, "I will join you gladly." Thereupon, with much sincerity of heart, these two did drink to the queen's majesty. "But I must be going, or my uncle will be angered with me; and he is a man of a most ungracious humour," said Master Francis.

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A murrain on him!" cried Master Shakspeare. "And, if I may make so free as to ask, who is he?"

"He is Gregory Vellum, the scrivener, of St Mary Axe," replied the youth; "and though report say that he abounds in riches, one would suppose that he hath not sufficient to furnish a beggar's wallet." "Have you no farther living?" asked his host.

"It is uncertain," responded Master Francis more seriously. "My mother's was a private marriage with a gentleman much above her in station, and as he said it would injure him in the estimation of his family if his union became known, she kept his quality a secret from all who knew her. He went to the wars a short time before she gave birth to me, and has never since been heard of; and my poor mother died in childbed, without leaving any other memorial of her husband than this miniature, which I always carry about with me.'

Master Shakspeare silently examined the trinket, which was in a gold frame, that the youth wore round his neck. On one side was the likeness of a very lovely woman; the other had contained another miniature, mayhap, of a cavalier; but it was now empty.

"The initials E.V., on one side the frame, are for my mother Eleanor Vellum," continued the youth, "and the F. H., on the empty frame, are doubtless the initials of my father; of which one must be Francis, for so she always called him, as I have heard, and therefore by that name have I been christened; but what the other standeth for I know not, and perchance may never know till the day of judgment."

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"Be of good heart, Master Francis," said his companion, encouragingly, peradventure the secret may be discovered sooner than you look for. But what says your uncle?-knoweth he nothing?" "Sometimes I am apt to think that he knows more than he is inclined to tell," replied Master Francis; "for in his unguarded moments, he hath dropped some mysterious hints which savour a little of the purpose. But he is so continually upbraiding me for the troubles and the charges I put him to―he so stints me in all sorts of necessaries, and so begrudges me the little pleasure I enjoy—that he hath made my life a daily burthen, and I should be right glad to get from under his roof, to labour in any capacity for which I may be properly qualified."

"That shall not be long first, or my name be not Will Shakspeare," exclaimed his host, as he poured out another cup of wine for his guest.

"Nay, good Master Shakspeare," cried the youth, rising up and taking his hat, as he noticed the brimming vessel proceeding towards him, "prythee let me go; I have drunk most bountifully, I thank you."

"One more cup, and it shall be the last."

"Indeed I would rather not."

"Now, look at this!" exclaimed Master Shakspeare, in apparent wonder. "Here is a youth of some eighteen years or so, who confesses that he hath met with no fair damsel with soul-enkindling eyes and roseate cheeks, whose health he deems worthy of being drunk in a bumper of sherris."

"I said not that, Master Shakspeare," replied his young companion, hastily, as the colour mounted to his cheek-" Believe me, I said not that.'

"I believe you most heartily," said his host with a laugh, as he noticed the youth's increasing confusion. "I see conviction in your complexion. Her health, Master Francis."

"Well, I suppose I must," observed his guest, as if anxious to be quickly relieved from his embarrassment. "I thank you kindly. She is a right noble creature, and I should be the basest wretch alive were I to refuse to drink her health-considering--" Here the young poet stopped suddenly; his complexion acquired a warmer glow; and a shadow of deep melancholy overspread his features.

"Hath she no name, Master Francis?" enquired the other earnestly, and, if the truth must be told, somewhat mischievously.

"Indeed she hath," he replied. "It is a good name-a name of excellent credit-a

"I doubt it not," observed Master Shakspeare, with more than his usual gravity; "but to the point, man. Dost hesitate to tell it? Take my word for it, you are paying her no compliment if you do."

"Her name is Joanna," said the youth in a voice scarcely audible, and trying unsuccessfully to hide his confusion.

Then drink I your Joanna's health in a brimming cup, and with a most heartfelt wish that she may be worthy of you, and that you may be happy with her."

Master Francis said nothing, but hastened to drink the wine that had been placed in his hand.

"And now, Master Francis, here is your tragedy," said his companion, as he gave him the manuscript, with a benevolent countenance and a cordial shake of the hand; "and henceforth consider me your friend, for I wish to prove myself such. Something shall be done for you, rest assured; and that very shortly. Good day, Master Francis, good day," he continued, as he kindly led his visitor to the door, and opened it for him.

Master Francis could only look his thanks, and then threading the narrow staircase of the house, made the best of his way to St Mary Axe.

"FRANCIS! FRANCIS!" screamed out a little old man, meanly apparelled, as he stumped about with his stick in a gloomy room, that appeared from its deficiency in all furniture, save a desk with a tall stool, and several papers and parchments tied up and placed on shelves about the fire-place, that it was an office. Francis! Francis, I say! A murrain on thee for a lazy varlet! thou art sure to give me the slip as soon as my back is turned. Francis!" he shouted again, and then muttered to himself, "a wasteful, idle, good-for-naught, that

be always consuming my substance or mis-spending my time; I would I were well rid of him. Francis, I say! Here have I been bawling about the house for the better part of an hour searching for him-the graceless vagrant. Francis!" Thus he went on, growling and grumbling, and poking into every hole and corner, with a physiognomy most unnaturally crabbed, and a voice feeble and shrewish. At last he sat himself down on the stool, laid aside his stick, and began examining the loose papers on the desk; first putting on a pair of cracked spectacles, to assist his sight. Besides being short and old -that is, of some sixty years or more-he was of a marvellous spare body; and his sharp nose and pointed chin, small eyes and saturnine complexion, did not appear to more advantage, surrounded by a scanty beard that had become quite grizzled by age. His attire was of the homeliest-nay, it gave evidence of more than ordinary thrift--for his trunks were patched, and his hose were darned, and his shoes would have looked all the better had they been indebted to the craft of the cordwainer. As for his doublet it was of a most ancient fashion, and though the cloth was originally a Lincoln green, it had become, by long use, and exposure to all sorts of weathers, more resembling the dingy hue of a smoked rafter.

As he scrutinised the papers, he broke out into such vehement ejaculations as these.

"This account not finished! Here's a villainous neglect of my interests! Here's a shameful contempt of my authority! Here's flat contradiction and horrible ingratitude! Oh, the abominable and most pestilent knave! whilst he eats me out of house and home-costs me a world and all in tailoring and other charges-he leaveth my business to take care of itself. But what have we here?" he exclaimed, as he commenced examining a paper that had evidently been concealed amongst the others. "Verses, or I'm a heathen!" cried he in a tone of consternation. "Nay, if he takes to such evil courses, it must needs come to hanging." Whilst he was intent upon perusing with angry exclamations the contents of the object that had excited his displeasure, he suddenly felt a hand upon his shoulder, and turning round with no small degree of alarm impressed upon his unamiable features, he observed a young female-by her dress probably of the middle ranks. She wore on the back of her head a small velvet hat, from under which escaped several long dark tresses, that, parted in the front, set off to great advantage a right comely face, of a very rich complexion, which was made infinitely more attractive, by a pair of delicate dark hazel eyes, peculiarly seductive in their expression. Her age might be somewhat beyond twenty; for her form was fully rounded, and moulded into the most excellent proportions, which were admirably apparelled in a neat boddice and a dainty farthingale. In truth, she was a damsel possessed of all the perfections of womanhood.

"You sweet rogue, how you frightened me!" exclaimed the old man; the surprise and alarm he had exhibited in his countenance now giving place to pleasure and admiration, as he gazed upon the smiling beauty before him.

"But what hath so put your temper into vital jeopardy, good Gre

gory Vellum?" added she coaxingly, as she leaned over his shoulder, seemingly the better to observe the writing he held in his hand.

"Marry, matter enough, sweetest," replied he; "that undutiful and most hardened reprobate, my nephew-a plague on all parents that cannot provide for their own offspring, say I-unmindful of the great expenses he hath put me to, not only leaves my business unattended, whenever I am not watching his movements, but passeth the times he should employ for my advantages in destroying my paper, pens, and ink, in scribbling a whole host of pernicious verses."

"Oh, the profligate!" cried the other, as if marvelling greatly; but still stretching out her pretty neck to see what was written on the paper.

"I am glad to find that you regard his atrocious wickedness with a proper detestation," repeated the other. "But that be not the worst of his villany. Only think of the pestilent varlet robbing me of these fine bits of candle, which in my search for him a moment since I found secreted away in his chamber." And thereupon, with a look of terrible indignation, he brought out of his vest, carefully wrapt up in an old rag, three candle-ends, each about an inch long. 'What wonderful iniquity!" exclaimed she, giving a hasty glance at the contents of the rag, and then again quickly fixing her gaze upon the paper.

"Ay, that is it with a vengeance," replied the old man. "Now, he stealeth these pieces of candle- -a murrain on him for his abominable dis honesty-and burneth them when I, his too indulgent uncle, am fast asleep; and there he sits, wearing out the night in studying a most unprofitable lot of heathenish books. But take this trumpery and read it, Mistress Joanna, for he writes such an unnatural fine hand that my poor eyes ache with looking at it."

The fair Joanna took the paper somewhat eagerly, and without a second summons or a word of reply, stood before the old man, and, as he wiped his spectacles and put them away, and carefully folded up the candle ends, she read what follows.

A RIGHT EARNEST EXPOSTULATION:

ADDRESSED TO HER WHO WILL BEST UNDERSTAND IT.

Having so oft and fondly sung thy praise,
I find I cannot thy defects pourtray;

My pen is ready for most flatt'ring lays,

But censures not: it knoweth not the way.
Thou, to my heart, hast given deep offence,
Yet see I in thee naught but excellence.

'Tis passing strange-but pity 'tis too true!
Thy goodness towards me doth seem to halt;
Things manifold thou dost unkindly do

Which pain me much-yet know I not thy fault;
For ev'ry day thou heapest on me wrongs

Find'st thou a perfect creature in my songs.

Wherefore is this?-Tis thus-no long time since
Each day, each hour, each moment found me blest;

All the fond love thy nature could evince,

All the sweet goodness of thy gentle breast,