"Oh, my name is Shakespeare--William Shakespeare, sir. I come from Stratford-on-the-Avon, up to'rds Warwick."
"Shakespy, Shakespy; a' don't know that name. Dost bear arms, sir?"
"I am entitled to them--a spear on a bend sable, and a falcon for my crest; but we have not yet applied to the heralds for the confirmation. And you, sir?"
"He writes himself _armigero_ in any bill, warrant, quittance, or obligation," here put in Davy the serving man.
"Ah, that I do! and have done any time these three hundred years."
"All his successors gone before him hath done it; and all his ancestors that come after him may," added Davy, with pride.
"To be sure, to be sure," said the squire. "Well, welcome to Cotswold, Master Shakespeare; good sportsmen are ever welcome on Cotswold. But tell me, how didst thou get thy downfall?"
"The first was at the mound into the tyning by Master Blackett's house at Iccomb; old Dobbin breasted it, and the stones did rattle round mine ears like a house a-coming down. We made a shard[16] that let the rest of 'em through. It was the only wall that came in the way of the chase to-day. The second downfall was at the brook by Bourton-Windrush, I think they call it. Dobbin being a bit short of wind, and quilting sadly, stuck fast in the mire, and tumbled on to his nose in scrambling out. Marry, sir, but 'twas a famous chase; the like of it I never saw before. 'Twas grand at first to see the hart unharboured--a stag with all his rights, 'brow, bay, and trey.'"
"Thou shouldst know, our hounds at Warwick are a noted pack,
So flew'd, so sanded, and their beads are hung With ears that sweep away the morning dew; Crook-knee'd, and dew-lapp'd like Thessalian bulls; Slow in pursuit, but matched in mouth like bells, Each under each. A cry more tuneable Was never holla'd to, nor cheer'd with horn.'" [17]
[Footnote 17: _Midsummer Night's Dream_, IV. i.]
Then he told how, after leaving behind the deep undrained grass country round Moreton-in-the-Marsh, they rose the hills by Stow and came across the moor. How the riders who spurred their horses up the steep uprising ascent were soon left behind. For
"To climb steep hills Requires slow pace at first; anger is like A full hot horse, who, being allowed his way, Self mettle tires him."