On the opposite side of the line, the pretty village of Calbourne shows another old church, a good deal “restored,” to the scandalising of architectural purists; and near it Swainston is one of the most dignified Wight mansions, incorporating the remains of what was once an episcopal palace of the Winchester diocese. One Rector of Calbourne was that Nicholas Udall, now remembered as author of _Ralph Roister Doister_, the first English comedy, but as Headmaster of Eton noted in his own day for out-Heroding the Tudor Herods in school discipline, if Thomas Tusser’s experience were not exceptional--whose works the irony of time puts on library shelves beside those of his old tyrant-- From Paul’s I went, to Eton sent, To learn straightways the Latin phrase, Where fifty-three stripes given to me At once I had; For fault but small, or none at all, It came to pass, thus beat I was. See, Udall, see, the mercy of thee To me, poor lad! [Illustration: SHALFLEET] The Eton boys who painfully learned to act this Orbilius’ comedy, may often have been as sad over it as is the traditional clown in private life. If any of them grew up to be dramatic critics, they might have found some satisfaction in “slating” their ex-master. To us indeed the humours of this farcical piece suggest that our forefathers must have been as easily amused as were Mr Peter Magnus’ friends, to Mr Pickwick’s thinking. But also a play evidently modelled upon Plautus and Terence, with more than a hint of our old friend _Miles Gloriosus_, is remarkable for keeping in view a motto much neglected by many playwrights, _Maxima debetur puero reverentia_, while indeed it condescends to rough vernacular fun such as might not be expected from that strict disciplinarian, who, after retirement to a country parsonage, ended his days in another mastership at Westminster.