uire for Queen Bess,
And in Parliament an ass;
Fair Charlecote is ruined
By this bluffer of the state,
And only his dependents
Will dare to call him great.
The deer and hares and pidgeons
Are imprisoned for his use,
Yet, poaching lads from Stratford
Pluck this strutting, feathered goose."_

CHAPTER IV.

IN SEARCH OF PEACE AND FORTUNE.

_"Blessed are those whose blood
And judgment are so commingled,
That they are not a pipe for Fortune's finger
'To sound what stop she pleases.'
'Give me that man that is not passion's slave,'
And I will wear him in my heart's core,
Ay, in my heart of heart as I do thee."_

Early on the morning of the 9th of September, 1586, William and myself took
our departure from the Crown Tavern. The landlord, Tom Gill, gave us a
bottle of his best gin and brandy to cheer us on our way to fame and
fortune. Fannie Hill, the barmaid, threw kisses at us until we rounded the
corner of the street leading to the old Grammar School. We carried
blackthorn cudgels to protect us from gamekeepers, lords and dogs.

As we passed the modest cottage where William's parents resided, he
impulsively broke away from my presence to bid a long farewell to his
angelic mother, and soon again he was at my side, flushed with pride and
tears, exclaiming in undertone:

_A mother's love and fervent hope
Are coined into our horoscope,
And to our latest dying breath
Her heart and soul are ours to death!_

In his clutched hand he held four gold "sovereigns" that his fond mother
had given him at parting to help him in the daily trials of life, when no
other friend could be so true and powerful. Gold gilds success.

"Here, Jack, keep two of these for yourself, and if I should ever be
penniless, and you have gold, I know you will aid me in a pinch. The wine
nature of your soul needs no bush."

_"We still have slept together,
Rose at an instant, learned, played, eat together,
And wherever we went like Juno's swans,
Still we went coupled, and inseparable."_

"William," said I, "memory with her indelible signet shall long imprint
this generous act of yours upon my soul, and when hundreds of years have
passed, I shall tell of the undying friendship of two bohemians, who, day
and night, set their own fashion, created a world of their own, and lived
ecstatically, oscillating between the blunders of Bacchus an