| “MASTER SKYLARK, THOU SHALT HAVE THY WISH,” SAID QUEEN ELIZABETH |
| THE LORD ADMIRAL’S PLAYERS. THE TRUMPETERS AND THE DRUMMERS LED, THEIR HORSES PRANCING, WHITE PLUMES WAVING IN THE BREEZE |
| “WHUR BE-EST GOING, NICK?” ASKED ROGER DAWSON |
| “WHAT! HOW NOW?” CRIED THE STRANGER, SHARPLY. “DOST LIKE OR LIKE ME NOT?” |
| “NICK THOUGHT OF HIS MOTHER’S SINGING ON A SUMMER’S EVENING—DREW A DEEP BREATH AND BEGAN TO SING |
| “NOBODY BREAKS NOBODY’S HEARTS IN OLD JO-OHN SMITHSES SHO-OP,” DRAWLED THE SMITH, IN HIS DEEP VOICE; “NOR STEALS NOBODY, NOTHER” |
| “DICCON HAD OFTEN MADE NICK WHISTLES FROM THE WILLOWS ALONG THE AVON WHEN NICK WAS A TODDLER” |
| NICK PUT ONE LEG OVER THE SILL AND LOOKED BACK |
| “OH, NICK, THOU ART MOST BEAUTIFUL TO SEE!” CRIED CICELY |
| “THAT VOICE, THAT VOICE!” NAT GILES PANTED TO HIMSELF |
| NICK GAVE THE SILVER BUCKLE FROM HIS CLOAK TO A BOY WHO STOOD CRYING WITH COLD AND HUNGER IN THE STREET |
| SO NICK RODE HOME UPON THE BACK OF THE EARL OF ARUNDEL’S MAN-AT-ARMS |
| “WHY, SIR, I’LL SING FOR THEE NOW,” SAID NICK, CHOKING |
| “DO NA THOU STRIKE ME AGAIN, THOU ROGUE!” SAID NICK |
| “OH, NICK, WHAT IS IT?” SHE CRIED |
| MASTER SHAKSPERE MET THEM WITH OUTSTRETCHED HANDS |