THE MAY-DAY PLAY 55

The trumpet blared, the kettledrum crashed again, and
as a sudden hush fell over the throng without Nick heard
the voices of the players going on.

It was a broad farce, full of loud jests and nonsense, a
great thwacking of sticks and tumbling about; and Nick,
with his eye to the crack of the door, listened with all his
ears for his cue, far too excited even to think of laughing
at the rough jokes, though the crowd in the inn-yard
roared till they held their sides.

Carew came hurrying up, with an anxious look in his
restless eyes.

“Ready, Nicholas!” said he, sharply, taking Nick by the
arm and lifting the latch. ‘Go straight down front now
as I told thee—mind thy cues—speak boldly—sing as thou
didst sing for me—and if thou wouldst not break mine
heart, do not failme now! I have staked it all upon thee
here—and we must win!”

“How now, who comes?” Nick heard a loud voice call
outside—the door-latch clicked behind him—he was out in
the open air and down the stage before he quite knew
where he was.

The stage was built against the wall just opposite the
gates. It was but a temporary platform of planks laid
upon trestles. One side of it was against the wall, and
around the three other sides the crowd was packed close
to the platform rail.

At the ends, upon the boards, several wealthy gallants
sat on high, three-legged stools, within arm’s reach of the
players acting there. The courtyard was a sea of heads,