But there's one great condition--not one word, One breath of scandal more on Robert Greene. He's dead; but he was one of us. The day You air his shirt, I air this paper, too." No gleam of understanding, even then, Illumed that long white face: no stage, indeed, Has known such acting as the Mermaid Inn That night, and Bame but sniggered, "Why, of course, There's good in all men; and the best of us Will make mistakes." "But no mistakes in this," Said Kit, "or all together we shall swing At Tyburn--who knows what may leap to light?-- You understand? No scandal!" "Not a breath!" So, in dead silence, Master Richard Bame Went out into the darkness and the night, To ask, as I have heard, for many a moon, The price of malmsey-butts and silken hose, And doublets slashed with satin. As the door Slammed on his back, the pent-up laughter burst With echo and re-echo round the room, But ceased as Will tossed on the glowing hearth The last poor Testament of Robert Greene. All watched it burn. The black wind wailed and moaned Around the Mermaid as the sparks flew up. "God, what a night for ships upon the sea," Said Raleigh, peering through the wet black panes, "Well--we may thank Him for the Little Red Ring!" "_The Little Red Ring_," cried Kit, "_the Little Red Ring!_" Then up stood Dekker on the old black settle. "Give it a thumping chorus, lads," he called, And sang this brave song of the Mermaid Inn:-- I Seven wise men on an old black settle, Seven wise men of the Mermaid Inn, Ringing blades of the one right metal, What is the best that a blade can win? Bread and cheese, and a few small kisses? Ha! ha! ha! Would you take them--you? --Ay, if Dame Venus would add to her blisses A roaring fire and a friend or two! _Chorus:_ Up now, answer me, tell me true!-- --Ay, if the hussy would add to her blisses A roaring fire and a friend or two! II What will you say when the world is dying? What, when the last wild midnight falls Dark, too dark for the bat to be flying Round the ruins of old St. Paul's? What will be last of the lights to perish? What but the little red ring we knew, Lighting the hands and the hearts that cherish A fire, a fire, and a friend or two! _Chorus:_ Up now, answer me, tell me true! What will be last of the stars to perish? --The fire that lighteth a friend or two! III