“I beg his pardon. If our friend, Master Shakespeare, here would study the drama _ad hoc_, and give his days and nights to that matchless work, the “Ars Poetica,” of Aristotle, there is indeed no reason why, in the process of nature and always under the courtesy of providence, he should not one day produce a work of the imagination that pays some little regard to the laws that govern such quaint abortions of the human mind.” Mr. William Shakespeare listened with an air of grave courtesy to this sage counsel. Like all men of parts, he was at heart a very humble man, with a deep reverence for true learning. It was too late in the day for him to hope to acquire it. He had never known the want of wit, yet in his mind was ever the thought of how much better his plays would have been could he have fashioned his rude verses after the manner of the ancients. CHAPTER XXIII THE Lord Chamberlain’s servants were in the highest spirits. The remarkable success of their first performance in the famous city of Oxford had pleased them greatly. They had been put upon their mettle by their cold reception at the hands of town and gown. Seldom had they acted even one of their most effective plays with such force and sincerity. Long before the play was at an end, a triumph was assured. They had a proud sense of having struck a shrewd blow to prejudice. Those in the thronged galleries and the close-packed press all about the stage had shouted themselves hoarse. The author of the play, who had a share in the profits of the company, lost no time in turning the flood tide of popular favor to account. His mind was a remarkable blend of business acumen and high poetic genius. He arranged at once that the Lord Chamberlain’s servants should extend their visit by three days, in order that other of his pieces might be given. And among these was to be a first performance of the new, pleasant, conceited comedy of “As You Like It,” which in the following week was to be given at Richmond Palace in the Queen’s presence. There is nothing like a sense of success to uplift the heart. When a man goes from triumph to triumph, his wit becomes more nimble, his fancy expands, his talent runs the more free. And at this time, all these happy conditions were fulfilled in the career of William Shakespeare. He was at the zenith of his mental and physical power. All things to which he turned his hand ministered to his fame and affluence. The unlucky Gervase Heriot, lying in the shadow of a peril that would have wrecked the strongest will, had come upon this man in an hour when nothing seemed beyond the scope of his invention. The tragic history of this young man, and of the noble girl who had forfeited all in order to save his life, had wrought deeply upon the player’s pity.