My Coufin Bullingbrooke ascends my Throne: (Though then, Heauen knowes, I had no such intent, But that neceffitie fo bow'd the State, (24) That I and Greatnefle were compell'd to kiffe:) (5) The Time fhail come (thus did hee follow it) The Time will come that foule Sinne gathering head, Shall breake into Corruption: fo went on, 17 Fore-telling this fame Times Condition, And the diuifion of our Amitie. War. There is a Hiftoric in all mers Liues, 50 Figuring the nature of the Times deceas'd: The which obferu d, a man may prophecie With a neere avme,of the maine chance of things, As yet not come to Life,which in their Seedes And weake beginnings lye entreasured: Such things become the Hatch and Brood of Time; 100 And by the neceffarie forme of this, King Richard might create a perfect gueffe, That great Northumberland, then falfe to him, King. Are thefe things then Neceffities? 150] And that fame word,euen now cryes out on vs: (2) War. It cannot be (my Lord:) Rumor doth double,like the Voice,and Eccho, The numbers of the feared. Please it your Grace 2)To goe to bed, vpon my Life (my Lord) 260 The Pow'rs that you alreadie haue sent forth, Shall bring this Prize in very cafily. To comfort you the mare, I haue receiu'd 17 Your Maieftie hath beene this fort-night ill, And thefe vnfeafon'd howres perforce muft adde Vnto your Sicknesse. King. I will take your counfaile: 250 And were thefe inward Warres once out of hand, 17 (2) Wee would (deare Lords) vnto the Holy-Land. Exeunt. 260-(35) - 3 h Scena Secunda. Enter Shallow and Silence: with Mouldie,Shadow, Wart, Feebie, Bull-calfe. Shal. Come-on,come-on.come-on: giue mee your Hand,Sir; giue mee your Hand, Sir: an early furrer,by the Rood. And how doth my good Coufin Silence i Sil. Good-morrow,good Coufin Shallow. Shal. And how doth my Coufin, your Bed-fellow? and your fairest Daughter, and mine, my God-Daughter Ellen? Sil. Alas,a blacke Quzell (Coufin Shallow.) Shal. By yea and nay,Sir, I dare fay my Coufin William is become a good Scholler? hee is at Oxford still, is hee not? Sil. Indeede Sir,to my coft. Shal. Hee must then to the lanes of Court shortly: I 2,50 was once of Clements Inne; where (I thinke) they will talke of mad Shallow yet. 400 (1) h Sil. You were call'd luftie Shallow then(Coufin.) Skal. I was call'd any thing: and I would haue done any thing indeede too, and roundly too. There was I,and little Lohn Doit of Staffordshire, and blacke George Bare, and Francis Pick-bone,and Will Squele a Cot-fal-man, you had not foure fuch Swindge-bucklers in all the Innes of 50 1h Court againe: Aud I may fay to you, wee knew where the Bona-Roba's were, and had the beft of them all at 17 commandement. Then was lacke Falstaffe(now Sir John) (3) a Boy, and Page to Thomas Mowbray, Duke of Nor folke. Sil. This Sir John (Coufin) that comes hither anon a-100 ( bout Souldiers? Shal. The fame Sir John, the very fame : 1 faw him breake Scoggan's Head at the Court-Gate, when hee was 17 a Crack,not thus high: and the very fame day did I fight with one Sampfon Stock-fifh, a Fruiterer, behinde Greyes-27 Inne. Oh the mad dayes that I haue fpent! and to fee 150 how many of mine olde Acquaintance are dead? Sil. Wee fhall all follow (Coufin.) Shal. Certaine: 'tis certaine : very fure, very fure: Death is certaine to all, all fhall dye. How a good Yoke of Bullocks at Stamford Fayre? Sil. Truly Coufin, I was not there. (1) Shal. Death is certaine. Is old Double of your Towne 200 liuing yet? Sil. Dead,Sir. Shal. Dead? See, fee: hee drew a good Bow: and dead? hee shot a fine shoote. Johs of Gaunt loued him well, and betted much Money on his head. Dead? hee would hauc clapt in the Clowt at Twelue-fcore,and 1/ carryed you a fore-hand Shaft at foureteene, and foure-250 14 teene and a halfe, that it would haule done a mans heart good to fee. How a fcore of Ewes now? Sil. Thereafter as they be: a fcore of good Ewes may be worth tenne pounds. Shal. And is olde Double dead? 294-(6)-10 h Enter Bardolph and his Boy. Sil. Heere come two of Sir John Falfaffes Men (as 1300 (35. thinke.) Shal. Good-morrow,honest Gentlemen. Bard. I befeech you,which is Iuftice Shallow? Shal. 1 am Robert Shallow (Sir) a poore Efquire of this (1) Shal. It is well faid Sir; and it is well faid, indeede, 400 too: Better accommodated? it is good, yca indeede is it: good phrafes are furely, and euery where very com mendable. Accommodated, it comes of Accommodo: very good, a good Phrafe. Bard. Pardon, Sir, I haue heard the word. Phrafe call you it by this Day, I know not the Phrafe: but 150 I will maintaine the Word with my Sword, to bee a Souldier-like Word, and a Word of exceeding good 1 h Command. Accommodated: that is, when a man is (as they fay) accommodated; or, when a man is, being (...) whereby 486-15)- 14 50 whereby he thought to be accommodated, which is an excellent thing. Enter Falfage. Shal. It is very iuft: Looke, heere comes good Sir Jobs. Giue me your hand, give me your Worships good hand: Truft me.you looke well: and beare your yeares very well. Welcome,good Sir Iobs. Fal. I am glad to fee you well, good M. Robert Shal1h law: Mafter Sure-card as I thinke? Shal. No finJobs, it is my Cofin Silence : in Commiffion with mee. Fal. Good M. Silence, it well befits you should be of the peace. Sil. Your good Worship is welcome. (1) Fal Fye, this is hot weather (Gentlemen) haue you Shal. Where's the Roll? Where s the Roll? Where's the Roll? Let me fee, let me fee, let me fee: fo,lo,fo.fo: 150 yea marry Sir, Raphe Mouldie: let them appeare as I call: et them do fo, let them do fo: Let mee fee, Where is Mouldic? 200 Moul. Heere.ifit please you. more. Falft. Well faid,good Womans Tailour: Well fayde Couragious Feeble: thou wilt bee as valiant as the wrathfull Doue,or moft magnanimous Moufe. Pricke the womans Taylour well Master Shallow, deepe Maifter Shala low. Feeble. I would wart might haue gone fir. Fal. I would thou wert a mans Tailor,thaty might' 150 mend him, and make him fit to goc. Icannot put him to Shal. What thinke you (Sir John) a good limb'd fel a priuate fouldier, chavis the Leader of fo many thou low: yong,ftrong, and of good friends, Fal. Is thy name Mouldie? Moul. Yea.if it please you. Fal. Tis the thore time thou wert vs'd. Shal. Ha ha ha, moft excellent.Things that are mouldie,lackevle: very fingular good. Well faide Sir Iobu, wery well faid. Fal. Pricke him. fands. Let that suffice,most Forcible Feeble, Feeble. It fhall fuffice.. Falst. I am bound to thee, reverend Feeble. Who is the next? Sbal. Peter Bulcalfe of the Greene. Falft. Yea marry, let vs fee Bulcalfe. Fal. Truft me,a likely Fellow. Come,prickeme Buicalfe till he roare againe Bul. Oh,good my Lord Captaine. Fal. What? do it thou roare before chart prickt Bul. A whorfon cold fir, a cough fir, which I caught with Ringing in the Kings affayres, vpon his Coronation day,fir. Fal. Come,thoufhalt go to the Warres in a Gowne: we will haue away thy Cold, and I will take fuch order, that thy friends fhall ring for thee. Is heere all? Shal. There is two more called then your number: you must haue but foure heere fir,and so I pray you go in with me to dinner. 200 250 300 Fal. Come, I will goe drinke with you, but I cannot tarry dinner. I am glad to fee you in good troth, Mafter 350 Shallow Shal. Ofir Iohn, doe you remember fince wee lay all night in the Winde-mill.in S Georges Field Faiftaffe. No more of that good Mafter Shallow: No more of that. 1 h Shal. Ha? it was a merry night. And is lane Night- 1 Wart. Yea fir old: certaine thee's qld: and had Robin Night-worke, by old Night-worke,before I came to Clements nne. Sil. That's fiftie fiue yeeres a goe. Shad. Hah, Coufin Silence, that thou hadit feene that, that this Knight and I baue fcene: hah, Sir John, faid I well? Shal. Hee is not his Crafts-mafter, hee doth not dog! itright. I remember at Mile-end-Greene, when 1 Lay at Clements Inne. I was then Sir Dagoner in Arbera Show: there was a little quiuer fellow, and hee would manage you his Peece thus: and hee would about, and about, and come you in, and come you in: Reh Falft Wee haue heard the Chymes at mid-night, Matah, tah, would hee fay, Bownce would hee fay, and fter Shakow. Shal. That wee haue.that wee haue; in fairn, Sir Zohn, wee haue: our watch-word was, Hem-Boyes. Come, ler's to Dinner; come,let's to Dinner: Oh the dayes that wee haue feene. Come,come. Bal. Good Mafter Corporate Bardolph, fand my friend, and heere is foute Harry tenne fhillings in French Grownes for you: in very truth,fix,I had as lief be hang'd fir,as goe: and yet, for mine owne part,fir,I do not care; but rather, because I am vnwilling, and for mine owne part,haue a defire to stay with my friendsa eife, fir. I did for care,for nine owne part,fo much. Bard. Go-too; stand aside.. Mould. And good Mafter Corporall Captaine, for my ald Dames fake, ftand my friend: thee hath no body to doe any thing about her,when I am gone: and he is old, and cannot helpe her felfe: you hall hauc fortio,fir. Bard. Go-too: stand aside. Feeble. I care not, a man can die but once: wec owe a death. I will neuer beare a bafe minde: if it be my deftime,fo: if it be not,fo: no`man is too good to ferue his Prince: and let it goe which way it will, he that dies this yeere, is quit for the next. Bard. Well faid,thou art a good fellow. Bard. Sir, a word with you: 1 haue three pound.co free Mouldie and Ball-calfe.` Falft. Go-too: well. Shal. Come, fir John, which foure will you haue? Shal. Marry then, Mouldie, Bull-calfe, Feeble, and shadow. Falft. Mouldie,and Bull-calfe: for you Mouldie,tay at home, till you are paft feruice: and for your part,Bu calfe,grow till you come vпto it: I will none of you. Shal. Sir Iobn,Sit lohn, doe not your felfe wrong,they are your likelyeft men,and I would haue you feru'd with the best. Falt. Will you tell me (Mafter Shallow) how to chufe aman? Care I for the Limbe, the Thewes, the ftature, butke, and bigge affemblance of a man? giue mee the Spirit (Mafter Shallow.) Where's Wart? you fee what 2 tagged appearance it is: bee fhall charge you, and difcharge you, with the motion of a Pewterers Ham. mer: come off, and on, (witter then hee that gibbers on The Brewers Bucker. And this fame halfe-fac'd fellow, Shadow; give me this man: hee prefents no marke to the Enemie, the for.man may with as great ayme levell at the edge of a Pen-knife; and for a Retrait, how swiftly will this Feeble, the Womans Taylor, Tunne off. O, giue me the spare men, and spare me the great ones. Potme a Calyuer inia Warts hand,Bardolph. Bard. Hold Wart, Trauerfe: thus, thus,chus. Faft. Come,manage me your Calyaer: fo.very well, go-too,very good,exceeding good. O,giue me alwayes alittle,leane,old,chopt,bald Shot. Well faid warr,thou art a good Scab: hold, there is a Tefter for thee. away againe would hee goe, and againe would he come: 1 Chall neuer fee fuch a fellow. Falt. Thele fellowes will doe well, Mafter Shalley. Farewell Mafier Silence, I will not vse many wordes with you: fare you well, Gentlemen both: I thanke you. Í muft a dozen mile to night, Bardolph, giue the Souldiers Coates. vifit Shal. Sir Lobn, Heauten bleffe you, and profper your Affaires, and fend vs Peace. As you returne, my house. Let our old acquaintance be renewed: pers aduenture I will with you to the Court Falt. I would you would, Mafter shallow. well. Falf. Fare you well, gentle Gentlemen. On Ba dolphs, leade the men away. As I returne, I will fetch of thefe Iuftices: 1 doe fee the bottome of luffice Sbal low. How fubiect wee old men are to this vice of Dy ing? This fame ftaru'd Iuftice hath done nothing but prate to nie of the wildeneffe of his Youth, and the Feates hee hath done about Turnball-ftreer, and query third word a Lye, duer pay'd to the hearer, then the Turkes Tribute. I doe remember him at Clements Inne, like a man made after Supper,of a Chéefe-paring, When hee was naked, hee was, for all the world, like a forked Radish, with a Head fantaftically caru'd vpon it with Knife. Hee was fo forlorne, that his Dimenfions (ro any thicke fight) were inuincible. Hee was the very Genius of Famine: hee came euer in the rere-ward of the Fashion: And now is this Vices Dagger become a Squire, and talkes as familiarly of fohn of Gaunt,as if hee had beene fworne Brother to him: and Ile be fworne hee neuer faw him but once in the Tilt-yard,and then he burft his Head, for crowding among the Marshals men. I saw it, and told John of Gaunt, hee bear his owne Name, for you might have trufs'd him and all his Ap parrell into an Eelesskinne: the Cafe of a Treble Hocboy was a Manfion for him: a Court: and now hath hee Land,and Beeues. Well, 1 will be acquainted with him,if I returne: and it fhall got hard, but I will make him a Philofophers two Stones to me. If the young Dace be a Bayt for the old Pike, I fee no reason,in the Law of Nature, but I may fnap at him. Let time hape and there an end. Excunt PART II. THE CIPHER NARRATIVE. CHAPTER I. THE TREASONABLE PLAY OF RICHARD II. A most contagious treason come to light. Henry V., iv, 8. A FTER the Table of Contents of this book, especially that part of it which relates to the Cipher narrative, had been published, the remark was made, by some writers for the press: "Why, history knows nothing of the events therein referred to." And by this it was meant to imply that if the history of Elizabeth's reign did not give us these particulars they could not be true. The man who uttered this did not stop to think that it would have been a piece of folly for Francis Bacon, or any other man, to have laboriously inclosed in a play a Cipher narrative regarding things that were already known to all the world. The reply of the critics would have been, in the words of Horatio: There needs no ghost, my Lord, come from the grave, A cipher story implies a secret story, and a secret story can not be one already blazoned on the pages of history. But it is indeed a shallow thought to suppose that the historian, even in our own time, tells the world all that occurs in any age or country. As Richelieu says: History preserves only the fleshless bones But, at the same time, I admit that the Cipher narrative, to be true, must be one that coheres, in its general outlines, with the well-known facts of the age of Elizabeth; and this I shall now attempt to prove that it does. The Cipher story tells us of a great court excitement over the so-called Shakespeare play of Richard II.; of an attempt on the part of the Queen to find out who was the real author of the play; of her belief, impressed upon her by the reasoning of Robert Cecil, Francis Bacon's cousin, that the purpose of the play was treasonable, and that the representation on the stage of the deposition and murder of the unfortunate Richard was intended to incite to civil war, and lead to her own deposition and murder. The Cipher also tells us that she sent out posts to find and arrest Shakspere, intending to put him to the torture,- or "the question," as it was called in that day,— and compel him to reveal the name of the man for whom, as Cecil alleged, he was but a mask; and it also tells how this result was avoided by getting Shakspere out of the country and beyond the seas. What proofs have we that the Queen did regard the play of Richard II. as treasonable? They are most conclusive. I. THE PLAY. If the reader will turn to Knight's Biography of Shakspere, p. 414, he will find the following: The Queen's sensitiveness on this head was most remarkable. There is a very curious record existing of "that which passed from the Excellent Majestie of Queen Elizabeth, in her Privie Chamber at East Greenwich, 4° Augusti, 1601, 43° Reg. sui, towards William Lambarde," which recounts his presenting the Queen his Pandecta of historical documents to be placed in the Tower; which the Queen read over, making observations and receiving explanations. The following dialogue then takes place: William Lambarde. He likewise expounded these all according to their original diversities, which she took in gracious and full satisfaction; so her Majesty fell upon the reign of King Richard II., saying: "I am Richard II., know ye not that?" W ́, Z. [Lambarde]. Such a wicked imagination was determined and attempted by the most unkind gentleman, the most adorned creature that ever your Majesty made. Her Majesty. He that will forget God will also forget his benefactors: this tragedy was played forty times in open streets and houses. . . . The wicked imagination" that Elizabeth was Richard II. is fixed upon Essex by the reply of Lambarde, and the rejoinder of the Queen makes it clear that the "wicked imagination" was attempted through the performance of the tragedy of |