; but the
fellow only laughed, and bowed quite low, and said that he took no
offense from Sir Edward for saying that, since it could not honestly be
denied, but that Sir Thomas did not know the truth from a truckle-bed in
broad daylight, and was but the remnant of a gentleman to boot."

"The bold-faced rogue!"

"Ay, that he is," nodded Robin; "and for his boldness Sir Thomas
straightway demanded that the High Bailiff refuse the company license to
play in Stratford."

"Refuse the Lord High Admiral's players?"

"Marry, no one else. And then Master John Shakspere, wroth at what Sir
Thomas had said of his son Will, vowed that he would send a letter down
to London town, and lay the whole coil before the Lord High Admiral
himself. For ever since that he was High Bailiff, the best companies of
England had always been bidden to play in Stratford, and it would be an
ill thing now to refuse the Lord Admiral's company after granting
licenses to both my Lord Pembroke's and the High Chamberlain's."

"And so it would," spoke up Walter Roche; "for there are our own
townsmen, Richard and Cuthbert Burbage, who are cousins of mine, and
John Hemynge and Thomas Greene, besides Will Shakspere and his brother
Edmund, all playing in the Lord Chamberlain's company in London before
the Queen. It would be a black score against them all with the Lord
Admiral--I doubt not he would pay them out."

"That he would," said Robin, "and so said my father and Alderman Henry
Walker, who, y' know, is Will Shakspere's own friend. And some of the
burgesses who cared not a rap for that were afeard of offending the Lord
Admiral. But Sir Thomas vowed that my Lord Howard was at Cadiz with
Walter Raleigh and the young Earl of Sussex, and would by no means hear
of it. So Master Bailiff Stubbes, who, 'tis said, doth owe Sir Thomas
forty pound, and is therefore under his thumb, forthwith refused the
company license to play in Stratford guildhall, inn-yard, or common. And
at that the master-player threw his glove into Master Stubbes's face,
and called Sir Thomas a stupid old bell-wether, and Stratford burgesses
silly sheep for following wherever he chose to jump."

"And so they be," sneered Hal Saddler.

"How?" cried Robin, hotly. "My father is a burgess. Dost thou call him a
sheep, Hal Saddler?"

"Nay, nay," stammered Hal, hastily; "'twas not thy father I meant."

"Then hold thy tongue with both hands," said Robin, sharply, "or it will
crack thy pate for