A Maid of Many Moods

ut commanded the players to journey down to Greenwich when it was her whim to see their performances. Now, in 1597, the Queen had grown too world-weary to care much for such pastimes, and rarely h

sweet odour, for the silken cushions were stuffed with fragrant grasses from the West Indies, and the hand-railings and footstools were of carven san

this dim, richly coloured place, and give her

arby, she could easily see the stage-all but the east wing-and,

ering when all the great cressets and clusters of candles were alight! How charming to feel free to come a

ars went in and out of the old Dominican friary that st

it should be a playhouse that was erected on

took all their Master-player's patience to bring them into straight and steady work. But when the play once

ord and cue the prompter gave them with an abs

s of a scene were simplified by leaving them to the imagination. Neither did the music furnished by a few sad-looking musicians who appe

f throughout in a cumbersome flowing gown of white corduroy that at times clung about him as might a winding sheet, and again dragged behind like a melancholy flag of truce. Yet wi

ment he came upon the stage was

adow of a doubt but that Deb Thornbury were there, a player with the rest, though I never could make so sad a tangle of any gown however bad

scinating personality. He was a strong, straight-limbed fellow, and his face was such as it pleased the people to watch, though it

Chamberlain's Company. Truly the gods had been good to this player-for first of all their gifts is such a golden-toned voice as he had brought into this

m one scene to another till the ending

d the trage

tions of his detested dress, would hesitate over some word or break a sentence, thereby marring the perfect beauty of it, and while Sherwood would smile and shrug his shoulders lightly as though

'twould be in different fashion! 'Tis not his fault, in sooth, for no living man could quite unde

waiting for Darby. The theatre looked gray and deserted. At the back of the stage the great velvet traverses through which the actors made their exits and entrances

k step came echoing along the passage that led to the box. In a moment a man had gathered back the hangings and

tle towards him and smiled. "Romeo!" she exclaimed softly. "Romeo!" and as though compelled to it by some strange impu

tle as he let the cur

ond question, by thy likeness to Thornbury. 'Fore Heaven! 'tis a very singular likeness, and thou must be, in truth, his sister. I would ask your grace for coming in with such scant announcement. I thought

persuaded and teased him withal till he could no longer deny me. 'Twas not over-pleasant being hidden i' the box, but 'twas the only way Darby would hear of.

her eyes, "and I fancy thou could'st have but little difficulty

"an' of a fine London flavour." Then uneasily, "I would my

to 'The Castle Inn'-'tis hard by-an' I believe their intention was to drink success to the play. Possib

tarry thus," the girl answere

rious lot o' roisterers, and carried him off willy-nilly, fairly by main force, now I think on'

," she answered, the co

quickly. "And I found thee out-here

n' why not another full as well as thee, good Sir Romeo? There is no

nutes longer," he returned. "Come te

each time I see it." Then irrelevantly, "Dost rea

like him than I am like-well, say the ap

ithee, hath he been starved to fit the part? Surely

rring. I wot heaven forecasted we sho

e! Why doth Darby tarry. Perchance some accident may h

ort laugh, but looke

t come to grief, I give thee my word for it. There is no youth that know'th Lo

London ten times over. 'Tis a simple matter to cross in the ferry to Southwark on the one we so oft hav

'twill do Thornbury no harm to find thee gone. He doth need a lesson," ended the m

is not a soul between Blackfriars an' the river house, I believe, save an old stage carpent

y forward to join him, She

"wait. Before we go, I pr

she said softly

ll thee Debora, an' they will-but I, I have a fancy to think of thee by another title, one sweeter a thousand-fold!" So leaning towards

ll not hear, I will not hear

ith grave, quick courtesy, and holding back t

e ferryman took them over the river. They did not say a word to each other, and the girl watched with unfathomable eyes the little curling line of flashing water the boat left behind, though it may be she did not see it. As for Sherwood, he watched only her face with the crisp rings of gold-red hair blown about it from out the border of her fur-edged hood. He had forgotte

d gave Debora his hand that she might not miss the step. There was a little am

ugh the brown, and underfoot the grass hinted of coming green. Then along the Southwark common past t

ith a new beauty was to court end

rding his sister, and the man felt no more wil

lips were pressed firmly together, for she was struggling with many feelings, one of which

glance at the high windows lest at one might be discovered the round, good-tempered, yet curious face

the quaint knocker of the door, turned, and

aiden in distress. I give thee thanks, an' if thou art ever minded to travel to Shottery my father will be gla

d laid his hand beneath it, so that, t

re I have no will to leave it to chance when I shall see thee again. Fate has been marvellous

ht, fate is not always kind. Yet 'tis best to leave most

a way that may serve well enow for maids but not

"To-night," with a little nod of her head, "

," said Sherwood. "T

hat is the Sabbath; play

o later than Monday, and thou dost wish

ng of the door, the girl gave a mischievous little smile and let the knocker fall. It made a loud echoing through the empty hall, and the player raised his laced black-velvet cap, gave

a smile curving her lips. For the moment Darby was forg

ner. Yet the girl would not now dine alone, but stood by the gabled window which looked down on

eartedness. Portly aldermen, jealous of their dignity. Swarthy foreigners with silver rings swinging in their ears. Sun-browned sailors. Tankard-bearers carrying along with their supply of fresh drinking water the cream of the hour's gossip. Keepers of the watch with lanterns trimmed for the night's burning adangle

the people till she wearied of them, and

content of the heart, and in its place had come a restlessness,

som knocked at the door, a

e over late, an' the jugged hare I made ready for his pleasuring is fair

wing the woman down stairs. "He gave me no hi

not spoil a sweet appetite by tarrying for him. Take thee a taste o' the cowsl

urned itself over in her mind and gave her no peace. Looking

e? Hath he always kept such uncertain hours by n

n, and Master Darby hath with him a ready wit an' a charm o' manner that maketh him rare good company

lossom? 'Tis but a passing fancy an' I hate to question

onserved cherries, they be white hearts from a Shottery orchard. Trouble not thy pretty self. Men be all alike, sweet, an' not worth a salt tear. Even Blossom cometh home now an' again in a manner not to be spoken of! Ods pitikins! I be thankful to have him make the house in any form, an' not fall i' the clutch o' the wa

ue! So had she fancied it might be. He had been drinking-drinking. Carousing with the fast, unmannerly youths who haunted the club-houses and inns. Dicing, without d

, surely, good Mistress Blossom? N

so, ay! often and over often; 'I am not to blame for this, Blossom,' hath he said to my goodman when he worked over him-cold water and rubbing, Mistress Debora-no mo

t 'tis worse-far, far worse. I have little doubt half his money comes from play an' betting, ay! an' at stakes on the bear-baiting, an'-an'-anything else o' wicked

er. Lifting the latch the woman flung the outer door open and Darby Thornbury lurched in, falling clumsily against his sister, wh

wear. Now his long cordovan boots were mud-stained and crumpled about the ankles. His broidered cuffs and collar were wrenched out of all shape. But worse and far more terrible was his face, for its beauty was gone as

ister to take f' outing. I was a double-dyed fool e'er to bring thee t

ad! I'm proud o' thee, Deb, thou art a very beauty. All the

we not take him above stairs and so to bed? Dear, dear Mistre

. I'll fetch Blossom; he'll fix thee into proper shape, I warrant. 'Tis more thy misfortune tha

e could steer clear o' temptation." So, in a state of verbose contrition, was he borne away to his c