“One witness is persuaded and assured of the evil spirit having been abroad, and the punt appeared unto him diversely from what it appeared unto the other.”

William Shakspeare.

“If the evil spirit produced one appearance, he might have produced all, with deference to the graver judgment of your worship.

“If what seemed punt was devil, what seemed buck might have been devil too; nay, more easily, the horns being forthcoming.

“Thieves and reprobates do resemble him more nearly still; and it would be hard if he could not make free with their bodies, when he has their souls already.”

Sir Thomas.

“But, then, those voices! and thou thyself, Will Shakspeare!”

William Shakspeare.

“O might I kiss the hand of my deliverer, whose clear-sightedness throweth such manifest and plenary light upon my innocence!”

Sir Thomas.

“How so?  What light, in God’s name, have I thrown upon it as yet?”

William Shakspeare.

“Oh! those voices! those faeries and spirits! whence came they?  None can deal with ’em but the devil, the parson, and witches.  And does not the devil oftentimes take the very form, features, and habiliments of knights, and bishops, and other good men, to lead them into temptation and destroy them? or to injure their good name, in failure of seduction?

“He is sure of the wicked; he lets them go their ways out of hand.

“I think your worship once delivered some such observation, in more courtly guise, which I would not presume to ape.  If it was not your worship, it was our glorious lady the queen, or the wise Master Walsingham, or the great Lord Cecil.  I may have marred and broken it, as sluts do a pancake, in the turning.”

Sir Thomas.

“Why! ay, indeed, I had occasion once to remark as much.”

William Shakspeare.

“So have I heard in many places; although I was not present when Matthew Atterend fought about it for the honour of Kineton hundred.”

Sir Thomas.

“Fought about it!”

William Shakspeare.

“As your honour recollects.  Not but on other occasions he would have fought no less bravely for the queen.”

Sir Thomas.

“We must get thee through, were it only for thy memory,—­the most precious gift among the mental powers that Providence hath bestowed upon us.  I had half forgotten the thing myself.  Thou mayest, in time, take thy satchel for London, and aid good old Master Holingshed.

“We must clear thee, Will!  I am slow to surmise that there is blood upon thy hands!”

His worship’s choler had all gone down again; and he sat as cool and comfortable as a man sitteth to be shaved.  Then called he on Euseby Treen, and said, —