to London partly
written, but foregoing its completion for labour that would find
readier acceptance at the theatre.

[Illustration: Garden View of Shakespeare's Birthplace, Stratford

"An odorous chaplet of sweet summer buds."
]

However that may be, certain it is that this is a red-letter night at
the Mermaid. The genius of "gentle Will" has taken a new point of
departure and shines as it has not shone before either in his making
over of other men's plays, or in his few original works. He has
conquered a new realm of art; the phantoms of the fairy world for the
first time have been endowed with a genuine and sustained dramatic
interest. Small wonder that no one ventures to interrupt as the pages
are turned; even at the close, only one, the Silenus-faced Ben, offers a
criticism. Being well versed in classic lore, he protests against the
characterisation of Theseus, Duke of Athens, saying it is too modern,
and has in fact nothing of the antique or Grecian in its composition.

But he is over-ruled speedily, and as the meeting breaks up one of the
younger fellows whispers to another, "Shakespeare was sent us from
Heaven, but Jonson from--College."

II.

At the Queen's Palace.

Those flights upon the banks of Thames
That so did take Eliza and our James.

--Ben Jonson.

[Illustration: Queen Elizabeth going to Whitehall by the Thames

"But, noble Thames, whilst I can hold a pen,
I will divulge thy glory unto men."

John Taylor, the "Water Poet."
]

II.

At the Queen's Palace.

It is Christmas night. Lords, ladies, and ambassadors have been
summoned to Whitehall Palace to witness the play for which author,
actors, and artists of many kinds have been working so industriously
during the past few weeks. The Banqueting Hall, with a temporary stage
at one end, has been converted into a fine auditorium.

Facing the stage, and beneath her canopy of state, sits Queen Elizabeth,
in ruff and farthingale, her hair loaded with crowns and powdered with
diamonds, while her sharp smile and keen glance take note of every
incident. Nearest her person and evidently the chief favourite of the
moment, is the man who has long been considered the Adonis of the Court.
He is now also its hero, having but recently retu