226 MASTER SKYLARK

as no man ever has played it since. And there were
others, whose names and doings have vanished with them ;
and beside these—“ What, merry hearts!” the big maa
cried, and clapped his neighbor on the back; “we'll have
a supper at the Mermaid Inn. We ’ll feast on reason,
reason on the feast, toast the company with wit, and com-
pany the wit with toast—why, pshaw, we are good fellows
all!” He laughed, and they laughed with him. That
was “rare Ben Jonson’s” way.

“There ’s some one knocking, master,” said the boy.

A quick tap-tapping rattled on the wicket-gate.

“Who is it?” asked the quiet man.

‘oT is Edmund with the news,” cried one.

“JT ’ve dished him,” said Ben Jonson.

“oT is Condell come to raise our wages,” said Robin
Armin, with a grin.

“Thou ’It raise more hopes than wages, Rob,” said Tarl-
ton, mockingly.

“It is a boy,” the waiter said, “who saith that he must
see thee, master, on his life.”

The quiet man arose.

“Sit down, Will,” said Greene; “he ’ll pick thy pocket
with a doleful lie.”

“There ’s nothing in it, Tom, to pick.”

“Then give him no more than half,” said Armin, soberly,
“Jest he squander it!”

“He saith he comes from Stratford town,” the boy
went on.

“Then tell him to go back. again,” said Master Ben Jon-