motive, which Johnny, who saw a great deal of what was going on, could not penetrate. Matters were in this state when one day Shakespeare’s play of "The Comedy of Errors," or an adaptation of it, was given by the gentlemen of the Court, assisted by the King’s players, in the Hall at Christ Church. The parts of the brothers Antipholus were taken by the two Inglesants, who were still said to be so exactly alike that mistakes were continually being made between them. The play was over early, and the brilliant company streamed out into the long walk at Christ Church, which was already occupied by a motley throng. The players mingled with the crowd, and solicited compliments on their several performances. The long avenue presented a singular and lively scene—ladies, courtiers, soldiers in buff coats, clergymen in their gowns and bands, doctors of law and medicine in their hoods, heads of houses, beggars, mountebanks, jugglers and musicians, popish priests, college servants, country gentlemen, Parliament men, and townspeople, all confusedly intermixed; with the afternoon sun shining across the broad meadow, under the rustling leaves, and lighting up the windows of the Colleges and the windings of the placid river beyond. John Inglesant, in the modern Court dress in which, according to the fashion of the day, he had played Antipholus of Ephesus, was speaking to Lord Falkland, who had not been at the play, but who, grave and melancholy, with his dress neglected and in disorder, was speaking of the death of Hampden, which had just occurred, when a page spoke to Inglesant, telling him that Lady Isabella desired his presence instantly. Rather surprised, Inglesant followed him to where the lady was walking, a little apart from the crowd, in a path across the meadows leading from the main walk. She smiled as Inglesant came up. "I see, Mr. Esquire Inglesant," she said, "that the play is not over. It was your brother I sent for, whom this stupid boy seemingly has sought in Ephesus and not in England." "I am happy for once to have supplanted my brother, madam," said Johnny, adapting from his part. "I have run hither to your grace, whom only to see now gives me ample satisfaction for these deep shames and great indignities." "I am afraid of you, Mr. Inglesant," said the lady; "you have so high a reputation with grave and religious people, and yet you are a better cavalier than your brother, when you condescend that way. That is how you please the Nuns of Gidding so well." "Spare the poor Nuns of Gidding your raillery, madam," said Inglesant; "surely Venus Aphrodite is not jealous of the gentle dove." "I will not talk with you, Mr. Inglesant," said the lady pettishly; "find your brother, I beseech you; his wit is duller than yours, but it is more to my taste."