what the posts were to do when they did find Shakspere; how they were to offer him pardon and grace if he would make a confession as to who was the real author of the Plays; and if he would not, that they were to threaten all the players who had taken part in the presentation of the deposition scene of Richard II. with a bloody death, that they should be imbowelled, etc.; and we have even the fierce threat of the savage old termagant, that of Shakspere himself she would make a carbonado -a bon-fire- for the insults to the Christian religion contained in Measure for Measure, of which he was the alleged author.

And observe how the fragments of 312 carried over from the first column of page 74 produce so many significant words: 312-284 (74:1)-28; and 28 up the the next column (73:2) is lose (lose his office), addressed by the Queen to Cecil, if he did not find Shakspere and prove his story against Bacon to be true. And 28 up from the end of scene third (73:1) is rewards; and 28 down from the same point is offers ("offers of rewards"):

Or take 312 again less the second column of page 74 instead of the first; we have 312-248-64; now 64 down 73:2 is with; and 64 up 73:2 is speed; and 312—50 (74:2) =262, and this carried up 74:1 lands us in the midst of the first bracket sentence on the word wind (ride with the speed of the wind); and while 64 up 73:2 produces speed, the 174th word, if we add the modifier 30 it gives us march (174+30=204); thus:

312-248-64-30 (74:2)-34.

237-34-203+1—

204

73:2

march; and march, applied to the movements of the well-horsed posts," is cunningly disguised in the name of "the Earl of March."

I repeat that we cannot penetrate the text of these two plays, at any point, without perceiving that, apart from any rule, the Cipher numbers call out words that cohere in meaning and purpose, in a way that no other text in the world is capable of.

CHAPTER XXI.

FRAGMENTS.

I

And the hand of time

Shall draw this brief into as huge a volume.

King John, ii, 1.

AM constrained by the great size of my book to leave out much that I had intended to insert. I have worked out the story of Bacon attempting suicide by taking ratsbane:

Preceding this we have, originating from pages 72 and 73 and their subdivisions, a full account of his griefs, his intense feelings, his desire to shield the memory of his father, Sir Nicholas, from the ignominy which would fall upon it if it was known that his son had shared with such a low creature as Shakspere the profits of the Plays. Observe how the number 505 brings out ignominy:

Observe this: the Sir is 505 commencing at the end of the first section of 73:1, at the 27th word, and counting upward; the remainder is then taken to the end of the third scene (71:2), and carried up and brought back into the scene and down the column. The Nicholas is the same root-number, 505, carried through precisely the same process, save that we begin to count with 505 from the top of the same first section of 73:1, instead of the bottom, and we go down 73:1, instead of up; and when we return from the beginning of scene (71:2) we go up the column in

stead of down.

And here observe that the same number 478 (505—27 (73:1)=478), which carried to the end of the scene and brought back gave us Sir, if carried up 72:2 gives us Tack; and this, with sphere, –

Two stars keep not their motion in one sphere, —

gives us another form of the word Shakspere.

505-80-425-221 (71:2)-204. 494-204-290+1= 291

}

505-27-478. 588-478-110+1=111.

Here again we see the systematic arrangement: 505-27 (the first section 73:1) is alternated with 80, the number of words from the end of the second section of 73:1 to end of the column. But when the remainder is carried to the beginning

of scene 3, 71:2, it is taken down the column through 221 words, instead of up the column through 212 words.

And here we have Sir Nicholas again,— repeated in the progress of the inner story:

Here, it will be observed, the words flow again from the same corner of 73:1: that is, for Sir we commence to count from the top of the first section of 73:1, and count down the column, as we did to obtain Nicholas before; but now we count in the one hyphenated word in the column, and we get Sir. And the next Nicholas is a different word from the one we used last that was 124, 72:1; this is 230, 72:1. We obtained that word by beginning to count, with 505, from the beginning of the first section of 73:1 and going through the whole column; we procure this Nicholas by starting with the same number, 505, but, instead of going through the whole column, we stop at the end of scene third; this gives us 63 words. (27 to 90=63.) And here again we note the beautiful adjustments of the text to the Cipher; for, starting from substantially the same place, with the same root-number, we produce Sir Nicholas twice and Shakspere once! And the 442 (505-63-442) which gave us the last Nicholas, carried down 72:2 gives us, as the 442d word, father (my father, Sir Nicholas)!

And Bacon refers to the ignominy his exposure would bring upon his ancestors, "those proud spirits," Sir Anthony Cooke, his grandfather; his father, Sir Nicholas, and others of whom we know little or nothing, who had "won great titles in the world."

It is a pitiful and terrible story, told with great detail. Bacon sacrificed himself, or intended to do so, to save his family and the good name of his ancestors from the ignominy of his trial and execution at Smithfield as a traitor and an infidel.

And then we have the terrible story of his sufferings: He lost consciousness for a time and fell in the orchard and cut his head on the stones. He thought, in is dreadful mental excitement and torture,- for he knew what it was

Upon the tortures of the mind to lie

In restless ecstacy,—

that the spirits of his dead ancestors appeared and urged him to die!

Then came

a young gentleman who was visiting at the house, St. Albans; he walked forth into the orchard; he stumbled over Bacon's body; he thought at first it was a dead deer:

523-79 (73:1)-444.

588-444-144+1-145.

145

72:2

deer.

When he found it was a man, he drew his sword, in great terror, and asked who it was, and what he was doing there, and finally ran to the house and returned, followed by Harry Percy and the whole household, who came running. Then we have Bacon resolving to keep quiet and counterfeit death, so as to allow the deadly drug,

"which like a poisonous mineral doth gnaw the inwards," to do its complete work; rejoicing to think that in a little while he will be beyond the reach of Cecil's envy and the Queen's fury. Then we have the recognition, by Percy, that it is “our young master;" and the lifting up of the body, and the carrying of it to the house and to his room:

505-79-426-1 h (79)-425-406-19.

Then follows the wiping the blood from his face; the undressing of him,— taking off his satin cloak and silken slops; " the sending for the doctor, 505-50-455.

455 76:1 doctor,

who was the village apothecary, a Mr. Moore; then the discussion of the family as to what was the matter, some thinking he had fought a duel, others that he had been assailed by ruffians, for he was too gentle, it was said, to quarrel with any one. Then we have the refusal of the doctor to come, because the young man owed him a large bill for previous services, which had been standing for some time and not paid; and he demanded payment.

And, strange to say, we find this very doctor's bill referred to in a letter of Lady Bacon to her son Anthony, given by Hepworth Dixon.' She says, under date of June 15, 1596:

Paying Mr. Moore's bill for my physic, I asked him whether you did owe anything for physic? He said he had not reckoned with you since Michaelmas last. Alas! Why so long? say I. I think I said further it can be muted, for he hath his confections from strangers; and to tell you truly, I bade him secretly send his bill, which he seemed loth, but at my pressing, when I saw it came to above xv. or xvj. If it had been but vij or viij, I would have made some shift to pay. I told him I would say nothing to you because he was so unwilling. It may be he would take half willingly, because "ready money made always a cunning apothecary," said covetous Morgan, as his proverb.

We can imagine that the apothecary was incensed, because after his bill had been presented, at the request of Lady Ann Bacon, it had not been paid; and that months had rolled by, from June, 1596, until the events occurred which are narrated in the Cipher - that is to say, until as I suppose, the spring of 1597; and hence the heat of the man of drugs and his refusal to attend. The apothecary was probably the only substitute for a doctor possessed by the village of St. Albans at that time.

And here we have another little illustration of the cunning of the work. Where the doctor said that they "owed" him money, the text is twisted to get in the word thus: Falstaff says to the page:

Sirra, you giant, what says the doctor to my water?

Page. He said, sir, the water itself was a good healthy water; but for the party that owned it, he might have more diseases than he knew for.

This is the way it is found in the standard editions; but if the reader will turn to my fac-similes he will find the word owned printed ow'd. In this way, Bacon got in the doctor's statement in the Cipher story, by misspelling a word in the

text.

But Bacon's aunt, Lady Burleigh, sister to his mother, and mother of his persecutor, Cecil, overheard the servants report that the doctor would not come unless

1 Personal History of Lord Bacon, page 391.

his bill was paid, and she secretly gave the servant the money to pay it. And observe, again, how cunningly the word aunt is hidden in the text:

Now, if the reader will examine the text of the play, he will find that and it is usually printed, where it is condensed into one word, as and't. See the 485th word, 76:2.

And Essex had arrived to warn Bacon of his danger, and he observed that the doctor did not come when he was first sent for, and he rebuked him fiercely, and threatened to have his ears cut off; and the doctor answered with considerable spirit, under cover of the retorts of Falstaff to the Chief Justice's servants. See upper part of 77:1.

Then we have the voluble doctor's declaration that Bacon's troubles were due to overstudy and perturbation of the brain, and were in the nature of an apoplectic fit; and he prescribed for him. In the meantime, Bacon suffered terribly from the effects of the poison, and, as he had taken a double dose, his stomach rejected it, and his life was thereby saved.

Then we have the story of Harry Percy being sent in disguise to Stratford. I have worked out enough of it to make a story as long as all the Cipher narrative thus far given in these pages.

Percy's rapid journey, his arrival, his demand to speak at once with Shakspere; the difficulties in the way. At last, he is shown up into the bed-room; the windows are all closed, according to the medical treatment of that age; and Shakspere is sweltering in a fur-trimmed cloak. Here we have a full and painful and precise description of his appearance, very much emaciated from the terrible disorder which possessed him. Percy told him the news and urged him to fly. Shakspere refused. Percy saw that Shakspere intended to promptly confess and deliver up "Master Francis," and save himself. Percy was prepared for such a contingency, and told him that the man who was the ostensible author would suffer death with the real author; and he asks him: Did you not share in the profits; did you not strut about London and claim the Plays as yours, and did you not instruct the actor who played Richard II. to imitate the peculiarities of gesture and speech of the Queen, so as to point the moral of the play: that she was as deserving of deposition as King Richard? ("Know you not," said the Queen to Lambarde, "that I am Richard the Second!'') And do you think, said Percy, that the man who did all this can escape punishment? When Shakspere saw, as he thought, that he could not save himself by betraying Bacon, he at last consented to fly. Then followed a stormy scene. Mrs. Shakspere hung upon her husband's neck and wept; his sister, Mrs. Hart, bawled: her children howled, and the brother Gilbert, who was drunk, commenced an assault on Harry Percy, and drew a rusty old sword on him. Harry picked up a bungmallet, and knocked him down, and threw him down stairs into the malt cellar. Then bedlam was let loose. In the midst of the uproar entered Susannah, who at once calmed the tempest. Harry was astonished at her beauty and good sense. He wonders how "so sweet a blossom could grow from so corrupt a root." We have a long description of her. She put the children to bed, and when she had heard Percy's story she advised her father to fly. He commenced to talk about his family, and how well he stood with his neighbors, for that question of gentility was his weak point. She replied, very sensibly, that they owed their neighbors no obligations, and need care nothing for what they said or thought. And