ead
of rushing off to their ships on receipt of the news, they observed,
"Let us first finish our game." I cannot believe that this is what they
said. My conviction is that what was really said was, "Let us first
finish our pipes"--surely a far more impressive and memorable remark.

[Illustration]

This afternoon Marlowe's "Jew of Malta" was produced for the first
time; and of the two men who have just emerged from the Blackfriars
Theatre one is the creator of _Barabas_. A marvel to all the
"piperly make-plaies and make-bates," save one, is "famous Ned Alleyn;"
for when money comes to him he does not drink till it be done, and
already he is laying by to confound the ecclesiastics, who say hard
things of him, by founding Dulwich College. "Not Roscius nor AEsope,"
said Tom Nash, who was probably in need of a crown at the time, "ever
performed more in action." A good fellow he is withal; for it is Ned who
gives the supper to-night at the "Globe," in honor of the new piece, if
he can get his friends together. The actor-manager shakes his head, for
Marlowe, who was to meet him here, must have been seduced into a tavern
by the way; but his companion, Robin Greene, is only wondering if that
is a bailiff at the corner. Robin of the "ruffianly haire," _utriusque
academiae artibus magister_, is nearing the end of his tether, and
might call to-night at shoemaker Islam's house near Dowgate, to tell
a certain "bigge, fat, lusty wench" to prepare his last bed and buy a
garland of bays. Ned must to the sign of the "Saba" in Gracious Street,
where Burbage and "honest gamesom Armin" are sure to be found; but
Greene durst not show himself in the street without Cutting Ball and
other choice ruffians as a body-guard. Ned is content to leave them
behind; for Robin has refused to be of the company to-night if that
"upstart Will" is invited too, and the actor is fond of Will. There is
no more useful man in the theatre, he has said to "Signior Kempino"
this very day, for touching up old plays; and Will is a plodding young
fellow, too, if not over-brilliant.

Ned Alleyn goes from tavern to tavern, picking out his men. There is an
ale-house in Sea-coal Lane--the same where lady-like George Peele was
found by the barber, who had subscribed an hour before for his decent
burial, "all alone with a peck of oysters"--and here Ned is detained an
unconscionable time. Just as he is leaving with Kempe and Cowley, Armin
and Will Shakespeare burst in wit