“And there is more to tell. Love has come to her. She yields all that she has of security and also the many benefits she enjoys under her father’s roof in order that she may share the life of this hunted fugitive. Footsore and hungry, by mere and mead, sleeping now under the open sky, now in barn or byre, they make their way from place to place. The officers of the law are ever upon their heels, but Providence is with them, so that at last they come to a fair and famous city and fall in with a cry of players. “Now may it please your grace, one of these players is not only an actor but is also a maker of plays. And this man, by the bounty of the gracious lady his sovereign, has been commanded to devise for her a pastoral to be performed in her presence on the greensward of a summer’s afternoon. And this man is so charmed by the grace and beauty of these vagabonds, both of whom are dressed as boys, so charmed by their fair appearance and their goodly manners, that he would fain admit them into the company of players, in order that they may be trained as actors, and perchance on a day delight the Queen with their accomplishment. “At first these wanderers reject the proposal. But they are hard set. They have journeyed far and food and lodging are to seek. And being driven to a final desperate extremity at last, they put their faith in this play-actor. They reveal to him the whole of their tragic history and crave his help.” “One moment, Master Shakespeare.” It was the harsh, imperious voice of the Queen. And it seemed to fall like a thunderclap upon the expectant hush engendered by the player’s narrative. “Do I understand you to say that these persons informed this play-actor of the whole matter?” “Yes, your grace, of the whole of their history,” the player spoke with a calm fearlessness: “the whole of it as it was at that time known to them. Moreover, this player, having heard their tragical story, resolved to help them to the utmost of his capacity. To this end he had them put in a disguise of an Italian music master and his son.” “In order, sirrah, I presume,” said the Queen’s harsh voice, “to defeat the ends of justice?” “Not in order to defeat the ends of justice, your grace,” said the player with a calm deference which, however, did little to allay the rising anger of the Queen, “but rather to the end that justice might be vindicated. That only was the purpose in the player’s mind as shall presently appear. But under your grace’s favor, I will continue this tragical history.” “Do so, sirrah, I pray you.” The voice of the Queen was now ominous indeed.