Field did a lot of rough printing for the various theatres, issuing bill posters, announcing plays, and setting up type sheets for actors and managers, in their daily concerts and dramas for the public amusement. As luck would have it, old James Burbage and his son Dick were waiting for Field, with a lot of dramatic manuscript that must be put in print at once. We were casually introduced to the great theatrical magnate Burbage, as relatives from Stratford who were just then in search of work. James Burbage gazed for a moment on the manly form of William and blurted out in his bluff manner, "What do you know?" Quick as a flash William replied: "I know more than those who know less, and know less than those who know more." "Sharp answer, 'boy.' See me to-morrow at the Blackfriars at noon." We turned aside and left Field and Burbage to their business; while Dick Burbage, the gay theatrical rake, invited us across the way to the Bull's Head, where we irrigated our anatomy, and then returned to the printing shop. Field informed me that he had given us a great setting up with old Burbage; and would see his partner Greene, the playwright, and add to our recommendation for energy and learning. We were invited to dine with Field that evening at eight o'clock at the Boar's Head Tavern, where Dame Quickly dispensed the best food and fluid of the lower town, and where the wags and wits of all lands congregated in security. _"At the very witching time of night When church yards yawn and hell itself Breathes out contagion to this world."_ CHAPTER VI. TAVERNS. THEATRES. VARIEGATED SOCIETY. _"Man's evil manners live in brass; Their virtues we write in water."_ The Boar's Head Tavern in Eastcheap was one of the oldest and best inns in London for free and easy rollicking mood, where prince and peasant, king or clown, papist or puritan were welcome night and day, provided they intended no wrong and kept good nature aglow even in their cups. Magistrate and convent prior would sometimes raid the tavern until their physical and financial wants were satisfied. Dame Quickly, with ruffled collar, was the master spirit of the house, and had been its light and glory for thirty years. Her round, full face, fat neck and robust form was a constant invitation for good cheer, and her matchless wit was a marvel to the guests that nightly congregated through her three-story gabled stone monastery. A tavern is the best picture of human folly, nature wearing no garb of hypocrisy.