THE MAY-DAY PLAY 59

kin had ever done so before, and these had much perfume
about them, musk and rose-attar, so that they smelled like
rose-mallows in July. The players of the Lord Admiral’s
company were going about shaking hands with Carew and
with each other as if they had not met for years, and slap-
ping one another upon the back ; and one came over, a tall,
solemn, black-haired man, he who had written the song,
and stood with his feet apart and stared at Nick, but spoke
never a word, which Nick thought was very singular.
But as he turned away he said, with a world of pity in his
voice, “ And I have writ two hundred plays, yet never saw
thy like. Lad, lad, thou art a jewel in a wild swine’s
snout!” which Nick did not understand at all; nor why
Master Carew said so sharply, “Come, Heywood, hold thy
blabbing tongue; we are all in the same sty.”

“Speak for thyself, Gat Carew!” answered Master Hey-
wood, firmly. “TI’ll have no hand in this affair, I tell thee
once for all!”

Master Carew flushed queerly and bit his lip, and, turn-
ing hastily away, took Nick to walk about the town. Nick
then, for the first time, looked into his hand to see what
the man upon the stage had given him. It was a gold
rose-noble.