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"Whoy," said he, vaguely, "if 'tis all o' that to thee, I take it back." Nick rose, and Hodge scrambled clumsily to his feet. "I'll na go wi' thee," said he, sulkily; "I will na go whur I be whupped." Nick turned on his heel without a word, and started on. "An' what's more," bawled Hodge after him, "thy Muster Wully Shaxper be-eth an old gray goose, an' boo to he, says I!"
"Avon swans be mostly geese," said Hodge, vacantly. "Now, look 'e here, Hodge Dawson, don't thou be calling Master Will Shakspere goose. He married my own mother's cousin, and I will na have it." "La, now," drawled Hodge, staring, "'tis nowt to me. Thy Muster Wully Shaxper may be all the long-necked fowls in Warrickshire for all I care.
"He came across and sat on the arm of the big easy-chair. 'If you went over there and discovered all that, the English scholars would never forgive you. As of course they wouldn't: look at the recent Shaxper discoveries by Americans in London!
And, anyway, I'd like to know, Nick Attwood, since when hath a been 'Muster Shaxper' that ne'er-do-well, play-actoring fellow?" "Ne'er-do-well? It is na so. When he was here last summer he was bravely dressed, and had a heap of good gold nobles in his purse. And he gave Rick Hawkins, that's blind of an eye, a shilling for only holding his horse."
Methuselah speak English! Oh, no, monsieur, impossible. Vous vous trompez, j'en suis sûr. I can never believe it. Those harsh, inarticulate sounds to belong to the noble language of Shaxper and Newtowne! Ah, monsieur, incroyable! vous vous trompez; vous vous trompez!"
"Wully Shaxper a great man?" said he. "Why, a's name be cut on the old beech-tree up Snitterfield lane, where's uncle Henry Shaxper lives, an' 'tis but poorly done. I could do better wi' my own whittle." "Ay, Hodge," cried Nick; "and that's about all thou canst do. Dost think that a man's greatness hangs on so little a thing as his sleight of hand at cutting his name on a tree?"
'I don't care for your shillings, he said to Shaxper, 'nor for the printed plays afterward; but I do value your front and your footing and the services they can render me on my way to self- expression. He was an earl, or something such, with a country-seat in Warwick, or on the borders of Gloucestershire; 'and if I only had a year and the money to make a journey among the manor-houses of mid-England, I said, 'and to dig for a while in their muniment-rooms.... Well, you get the idea, all right enough.
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