ALL ’S WELL THAT ENDS WELL 293 without a quiver. They brought him the book, to read a verse and save his neck, perhaps, by pleading benefit of clergy. But he knew the temper of those against him, and that nothing might avail; so he refused the plea quietly, saying, ‘I am no clerk, sirs. All I wish to read in this case is what my own hand wrote upon that scoun- drel Sandells’ It was soon over. When the judge pro- nounced his doom, all Carew asked was for a friend to speak with a little while aside. This the court allowed; so he sent for me—we played together with Henslowe, he and I, ye know. He had not much to say—for once in his life,”—here Master Shakspere smiled pityingly,—“ but he sent his love forever to his only daughter Cicely.” Cicely was sitting up, listening with wide eyes, and eagerly nodded her head as if to say, “Of course.” “He also begged of Nicholas Attwood that he would forgive him whatever wrong he had done him.” “Why, that I will, sir,’ choked Nick, brokenly ; “he was wondrous kind to me, except that he would na leave me go.” “ After that,” continued Master Shakspere, “he made known to me a sliding panel in the wainscot of his house, wherein was hidden all he had on earth to leave to those he loved the best, and who, he hoped, loved him.” “Everybody loves my father,” said Cicely, smiling and nodding again. Master Jonson put his arm around the back of her chair, and she leaned her head upon it. “Carew said that he had marked upon the bags which were within the panel the names of the persons to whom winnie ia i a