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Affection ! thy intention stabs the centre.
Of what it likes, or loathes.
An affectioned ass, that cons state without book.
Great tyranny, lay thou thy basis sure,
The title is affeerd.
That he, as 'twere by accident, may here
There was a fourth man, in a silly habit,
That gave the affront with them.
For daring to affy a mighty lord
Unto the daughter of a worthless king.
If, in the course
Turn me away.
An agate very vilely cut.
I was never manned with an agate till now.
Then let my father's honours live in me,
Nor wrong mine age with this indignity.
When his youthful morn
Marry him to a puppet, or an aglet-baby.
Althea's dream. H. 4, S. P. ii. 2, n.
Away, you rascally Althea's dream, away!
For your highness' good I ever labour'd
He of Wales, that gave Amaimon the bastinado.
You amaze me, ladies.
Let him appear that's come from Antony.
Where America, the Indies ?
Myself corrupting, salving thy amiss.
Then, gentle cheater, urge not my amiss,
Lest guilty of my faults thy sweet self prove.
Not Amurath an Amurath succeeds.
The thunder of my cannon shall be heard.
An anchor's cheer in prison be my scope !
Sir, ancient Pistol's below.
Met in the vale of Andren.
And see my wealthy Andrew dock’d in sand.
A coin that bears the figure of an angel.
Antony's challenge to Cæsar,-from North's Plutarch.
Let the old ruffian know,
Call forth my household servants.
Peace, what noise ?
This foul Egyptian hath betrayed me.
O Charmian, I will never go from hence.
R. J. ii. 1, n.
You'd spare your spoons.
do remember an apothecary.
Apparent to my heart.
But Sin ne'er gives a fee,
As well to hear as grant what he hath said.
Let me stay at thine apperil, Timon.
To scourge you for this apprehension.
This day my sister should the cloister enter,
And there receive her approbation.
Which was as gross as ever touch'd conjecture,
That lack'd sight only, nought for approbation,
That, if again this apparition come,
He may approve our eyes, and speak to it.
0, 'tis the curse in love, and still approv'd,
Go, bind thou up yon' dangling apricocks.
She, whom the spital-house and ulcerous sores
To the April-day again.
From whence an issue I might propagate;
Are arms to princes, and bring joys to subjects.
Besides an argosy,
For shape, for bearing, argument, and valour.
I should not seek an absent argument
Of my revenge, thou present.
Come; arm him.
Arm your price :
And soberly did mount an arm-gaunt steed.
Aroint thee, witch, aroint thee.
Beaten the maids a-row, and bound the doctor.
Go, hide thee behind the arras.
One that, before the judgment, carries poor
I do agnize
I find in hardness.
H. i. 5, n.
It doth posset
The thin and wholesome blood.
But, fearing lest my jealous aim might err.
As in these cases where the aim reports.
But, good my lord, do it so cunningly,
That my discovery be not aim'd at.
The quality and air of our attempt
Brooks no division.
As great Alcides' shoes upon an ass.
With you mine alder-liefest sovereign.
As go to the ale with a Christian.
What, sweeting, all amort?
Now where's the Bastard's braves, and Charles
What, all a-mort?
Alla stoccata carries it away.
Farewell, thou latter spring! Farewell All-
Adonis lives, and Death is not to blame;
It was not she that call’d him all-to naught.
Of this allow,
Who, wondering at him, did his words allow.
So you o'ergreen my bad, my good allow.
Thither, gentle mariner ;
Alter thy course for Tyre.
The fatal brand Althea burn'd,
Your ill angel is ligiit.
Not an angel of the air,
Be absent hence.
G. V. i. 2, n.
We will, suddenly,
I dare him therefore
And answer me declin'd.
beneath their shoulders.
Some men there &c.
Let Antony and Cæsar fall together.
These many then shall die, &c.
To-night we'll wander through the streets, &c.
Thou hast a sister by the mother's side.
Eight wild boars roasted whole at a breakfast.
When she first met Mark Antony, &c.
'Twas merry, when
Your hostages I have, so have you mine, &c.
In Alexandria-here's the manner of it,-
Were publicly enthron'd.
O noble emperor, do not fight by sea.
A messenger from Cæsar.
souls to hell.
But ere we could arrive the point propos'd.
I remember at Mile-end green (when I lay at
These things, indeed, you have articulated,
Battle-knights, creation of. J. i. 1, i.
A soldier, by the honour-giving hand
Of Coeur-de-Lion, knighted in the field.
But pardon, gentles all.
iii. 5, R.
Reignold lord Cobham,
Or turn'd an eye of doubt upon my face,
As bid me tell my tale in express words.
Tears our recountments had most kindly bath'd,
As, how I came into that desert place.
It shall be to him then, as our good wills ;
A sure destruction.
Ask of Doctor Caius' house.
No sweet aspersion shall the heavens let fall
To make this contract grow.
And, like a jolly troop of huntsmen, come
Our lusty English, all with purpled hands.
An assinego may tutor thee.
Read o'er the volume of young Paris' face.
He it is that hath
I was assured to her.
That I did so, when I was first assur'd.
Enough, captain ; you have astonished him.
Enter a gentle Astringer.
Ten masts at each make not the altitude
Which thou hast perpendicularly sell.
Never did I hear
Then is there mirth in heaven,
Since we cannot atone you, you shall see
Justice design the victor's chivalry.
I was glad I did atone my countryman and you.
Hé and Aufdius can no more atone',
Than violentest contrariety.
And the lord Hastings, who attended him
In secret ambush on the forest side.
She never could away with me,
Thrust from the company of awful men.
We come within our awful banks again,
And knit our powers to the arm of peace.
H. 6, S. P. iii. 2, n.
Drove back again unto my native clime.
Against whose fury and unmatched force
The awless lion could not wage the fight.
Where, for a monument upon thy bones,
And aye-remaining lamps.
Ay, when? Canst tell ?
At least I give
A dying life to living infamy.
The drone of a Lincolnshire bagpipe.
A fellow all in buff.
A hound that runs counter, and yet draws dry
Or hang my bugle in an invisible baldrick,
Rome and her rats are at the point of battle,
The one side must have bale.
By sight of these our baleful enemies.
T. S. i. I, n.
Ten thousand bold Scots, two-and-twenty
On Holmedon's plains.
I will have it in a particular ballad.
Or ise try whether your costard or my vallow
be the harder.
Tell me, was he arrested on a band ?
Hast thou, according to thy oath and band,
Brought hither Henry Hereford, thy bold son ?
Our part therein we banish.
Have I not heard these islanders shout out,
Vive le roy! as I have bank'd their towns ?
O break, my heart !--poor bankrout, break at
Sometime with lunatic bans, sometime with
I am not Barbason, you cannot conjure me.
And now, instead of mounting barbed steeds.
It is like a barber's chair.
Swift, swift, you dragons of the night, that
May bare the raven's eye!
And sometime make the drink to bear no barm.
Mercy on's, a barne; a very pretty barne !
0. iii. 4, i.
The hearts of old gave hands :
Indeed, I bid the base for Proteus.
My lord, in the base court he doth attend.
A pair of bases.
Think it a bastard, whom the oracle
And mince it sans remorse.
So slides he down upon his grained bat.
And, I warrant you, no tell-tale, nor no breed-
'Tis a hooded valour; and, when it appears, it
This sour informer, this bate-breeding spy.
All furnish'd, all in arms :
I remember the kissing of her batler.
Enter Gerrold, Four Countrymen (and the
He ambled up and down
If this law hold in Vienna ten year, I'll rent
the fairest house in it after three-pence a bay.
If you thrive well bring them to Baynard's
In thy best robes uncover'd on the bier,
Thou shalt be bome to that same ancient vault.
'Tis very good : I must be circumstanc'd.
For my sake, be comfortable, hold death awhile
at the arm's end.
O, be not like your mistress; be moved, be
Marry, sir, be better employed, and be naught
Approach, thou beacon to this under globe,
Peruse this letter!
I will be thy beadsman, Valentine.
My lord and you were then at Mantua :-
Nay, I do bear a brain.
I have seen Sackerson loose.
A beard of the general's cut.
when carried to the church to be baptized. W. T.
Look thee, a bearing-cloth for a squire's child !
For my authority bears of a credent bulk.
Call hither to the stake my two brave bears.
Thine eyes and thoughts
But when my glass shows me myself indeed,
Beated and chopp'd with tann'd antiquity.
Let not us that are squires of the night's body
be called thieves of the day's beauty.
I saw young Harry, with his beaver on.
He wore his beaver up.
Their beavers down.
And gave him what becomed love I might,
Not stepping o'er the bounds of modesty.
A thousand favours from a maund she drew
Of amber, crystal, and of bedded jet.
Nay, but the man that was his bed fellow.
The country gives me proof and precedent
Of Bediam beggars.
The poor beetle, that we tread upon,
As when a giant dies.
Beggar at Hallowmas.
Which sleeps, and never palates more the dung,
Baccare-go back. T. S. ï. 1, n.
Baccare! you are marvellous forward.
With inward vice.
Thus, after greeting, speaks the king of France,
The borrow'd majesty of England here.
Had I not known those customs,
Must be be-lee'd and calm'd
The thane of Cawdor, began a dismal conflict :
Confronted him with self-comparisons.
Make edicts for usury, to support usurers. Bemoiled-bemired. T. S. iv, 1, n.
How she was bemoiled. Benvolio's falsehood. R. J. iii. I, i.
Affection makes him false. Bergamo, sail-makers of. T. S. v. I, i.
A sail-maker in Bergamo. Bergomask dance-an Italian dance. M. N. D. v. 1, n.
Hear a Bergomask dance, between two of our
company. Besmirch (v.)-sully. H. i. 3, n.
And now no soil, nor cautel, doth besmirch
The virtue of his will.
Whilst thev, bestillid
Stand dumb, and speak not to him.
In what safe place you have bestow'd my money. Bestraught—distraught, distracted. T. S. Induction, 2, n.
What! I am not bestraught.
Beteem them from the tempest of mine eyes. Beteem (v.)—allow, suffer. H. i. 2, n.
So loving to my mother,
Visit her face too roughly.
For burthen-wise I'll hum on Tarquin stil},
While thou on Tereus descant'st better skill. Bevel-bent in an angle. So. cxxi. n.
I may be straight, though they themselves be
bevel. Bevis of Southampton. H. 6, S. P. ii. 3, i.
As Bevis of Southampton fell upon Ascapart. Bevy. H. E. i. 4, n.
None here, he hopes,
One care abroad.
anger. Bewray (v.)-reveal. L. ii. 1, n.
He did bewray his practice. Beyond beyond—further than beyond. Cy. iii. 2, n.
0, not like me ; For mine's beyond beyond. Bezonians—term of contempt. H. 6, S. P. iv. I, n.
Birds of Italy. M. V. v. 1, i.
The crow doth sing as sweetly as the lark, &c. Birds, deceiv'd with painted grapes. V. A. n.
Even as poor birds, deceiv'd with painted
Do surfeit by the eye.
Siw. What wood is this before us ?
The wood of Birnam. Birth-hour's blot-corporal blemish. Luc. n.
Worse than a slavish wipe, or birth-hour's blot. Bishop, costume of. H. 4, S. P. iv. I, i.
Whose white investments figure innocence. Bisson-blind. Cor. ii. I, n.
What harm can your bisson conspectuities
BRI Bombast-from bombagia, cotton-wool used as stuff. ing. L. L. L. V. 2, n.
As bombast, and as lining to the time. Bonneted. Cor. ii. 2, n. (See O. i. 2, n.)
And his ascent is not by such easy degrees as those who, having been supple and courteous to the people, bonneted, without any further deed to
have them at all into their estimation and report. Book of Songs and Sonnets. M. W. i. 1, i.
I had rather than forty shillings, I had my book
of Songs and Sonnets here. Book, sense of the term. H. 4, F. P. 11. 1, i.
By that time will our book, I think, be drawn. Book uncross'd. Cy. iii. 3, n.
Such gains the cap of him that makes him fine,
Yet keeps his book uncross'd. Boord (v.)-accost. H. ii. 2, n.
Ì'll boord him presently. Boot—advantage. M. M. ii. 4, n.
Could I, with boot, change for an idle plume. Boot-compensation. R. S. i. I, n.
Norfolk, throw down, we bid; there is no boot. Bost-into the bargain. R. T. iv. 4, n.
The other Edward dead to quit my Edward ;
Match not the high perfection of my loss.
Nay, give me not the boots. Bores-wounds, thrusts. H. E. i. 1, 1.
At this instant He bores me with some trick. Borne in hand-encouraged by false hopes. M. iii. I, n.
How you were borne in hand; how cross'd. Borrower's cap. H. 4, S. P. ii. 2, n.
The answer is as ready as a borrower's cap. Bosom— wish, heart's desire. M. M. iv. 3, n.
And you shall have your bosom on this wretch. Bosom multiplied. Cor. iii. 1, n.
How shall this bosom multiplied digest
The senate's courtesy ?
Where is the master, boson ?
Our gentle fame
Each bound it chases.
From the dread summit of this chalky bourn. Bowls. L. L. L. V. 2, i,
A very good bowler. Brach-dog of a particular species. T. S. Induction, i, n. Huntsman, I charge thee, tender well my
Brach Merriman. Brach-female harrier. L. iii. 6, n. (See L. i. 4, n.)
Hound or spaniel, brach or lym. Braid-crasty. A. W. iv. 2, n.
Since Frenchmen are so braid, Marry that will, I'll live and die a maid. Brakes of ice. M. M. ii. I, n.
Some run from órakes of ice, and answer none. Brass. H. F. iv. 4, 7..
Brass, cur !
Offer'st me brass ?
There end thy brave, and turn thy face in peace. Braved—made fine. T. S. iv. 3, n.
Thou hast braved many men.
His bravery is not on my cost.
A French brawl.
An it shall please you to break up this.
Now will we break with him. Break the parle-begin the parle. T. And. v. 3, n,
Great men oft die by vile bezonians.
Commodity, the bias of the world.
To bid the wind a base he now prepares.
Methought, I lay
We are like to prove a goodly commodity,
being taken up of these men's bills. Bills. H. 6, S. P. iv. 7, n.
My lord, when shall we go to Cheapside, and
take up commodities upon our bills? Bills. T. Ath. iii. 1, n.
Phi. All our bills.
Tim. Knock me down with 'em.
With bills on their necks,-“ Be it known unto
all men by these presents.”
Good Cinna, take this paper, &c.
Challenged Cupid at the flight: and my uncle's
glean out of this character ?
I will bite my thumb at them.
That now she is become as black as I.
If fair fac'd,
Made a soul blot.
These blenches gave my heart another youth,
And worse essays prov'd thee my best of love.
To the best bride-bed will we.
And when you are desirous to be bless'd,
I'll blessing beg of you.
This a good block !
Strange, unusual blood,
Ost have I seen a timely-parted ghost,
Being all descended to the labouring heart.
Our doctors say, this is no month to bleed.
Blood will I draw on thee, thou art a witch,
Whose rarest havings made the blossoms dote.
This blows my heart.
The enclosed lights, now canopied
With blue of heaven's own tinct.
Accost is, front her, board her, woo her, assail
Certain it is I lik'd her,
I would he had boarded me.
Eastcheap. A Room in the Boar's Head
He that a fool doth very wisely hit
Not to seem senseless of the bob.
But, out, alas!
When he himself might his quietus make
With a bare vodkin.
Here one being throng'd bears back, all bolln
For the blood-bolter'd Banquo smiles upon me.
Rome's emperor, and nephew, break the parle. Breast-voice. T. N. ii. 3, n.
By my troth, the fool has an excellent breast.
Breath'd, as it were,
When you breathe in your watering, they cry
O, this life
WILLIAM SHAKSPERE. .
On the 22nd of August, 1485, there was a battle fought for the crown of England, a short battle ending in a decisive victory. In that field a crowned king, “manfully fighting in the middle of his enemies, was slain and brought to his death ;” and a politic adventurer put on the crown, which the immediate descendants of his house wore for nearly a century and a quarter. The battle-field was Bosworth. “When the earl had thus obtained victory and slain his mortal enemy, he kneeled down and rendered to Almighty God his hearty thanks, with devout and godly orisons.
Which prayer finished, he, replenished with incomparable gladness, ascended up to the top of a little mountain, where he not only praised and lauded his valiant soldiers, but also gave unto them his hearty thanks, with promise of condign recompense for their fidelity and valiant facts.” 1 Two months afterwards the Earl of Richmond was more solemnly crowned and anointed at Westminster by the name of King Henry VII. ; and “after this,” continues the chronicler, “he began to remember his especial friends and fautors, of whom some he advanced to honour and dignity, and some he enriched with possessions and goods, every man according to his desert and merit.” 2 Was there in that victorious army of the Earl of Richmond —which Richard denounced as a “company of traitors, thieves, outlaws, and runagates”-an Englishman bearing the name of Chacksper, or Shakespeyre, or Schakespere, or Schakespeire, or Schakspere, or Shakespere, or Shakspere, -a martial name, however spelt?“Breakespear, Shakespear, and the like, have been surnames imposed upon the first bearers of them for valour and feats of arms." 4 Of the warlike achievements of this Shakspere there is no record: his name or his deeds would have no interest for us unless there had been born, eighty years after this battleday, a direct descendant from him
mountain when the Earl of Richmond promised condign recompense to his valiant soldiers, was amongst those especial friends and fautors whom Henry VII. enriched with possessions and goods. A public document bearing the date of 1596 affirms of John Shakspere of Stratfordupon-Avon, the father of William Shakspere, that his
parent and late antecessors were, for their valiant and faithful services, advanced and rewarded of the most prudent prince King Henry VII. of famous memory;” and it adds, “sithence which time they have continued at those parts [Warwickshire) in good reputation and credit.” Another document of a similar character, bearing the date of 1599, also affirms upon “creditable report,” of “ John Shakspere, now of Stratford-upon-Avon, in the county of Warwick, gentleman," that his “parent and great-grandfather, late antecessor, for his faithful and approved service to the late most prudent prince King Henry VII. of famous memory, was advanced and rewarded with lands and tenements, given to him in those parts of Warwickshire, where they have continued by some descents in good reputation and credit.” Such are the recitals of two several grants of arms to John Shakspere, confirming a previous grant made to him in 1569; and let it not be said that these statements were the rhodomontades of heraldry-honours bestowed, for mere mercenary considerations, upon any pretenders to gentle blood. There was strict inquiry if they were unworthily bestowed. Two centuries and a half ago such honours were of grave importance; and there is a solemnity in the tone of these very documents which, however it may provoke a smile from what we call philosophy, was connected with high and generous principles “Know ye that in all nations and kingdoms the record and remembrance of the valiant facts and virtuous dispositions of worthy men have been made known and divulged by certain shields of arms and tokens of chivalry.” In those parts of Warwickshire, then, lived and died, we may assume, the faithful and approved servant of the “unknown Welshman,” as Richard called hiin, who won for himself the more equivocal name of “the most prudent prince.” He was probably advanced in years when Henry ascended the throne ; for, in the first year of Queen Elizabeth (1558), his great-grandson, John Shakspere, was a burgess of the Corporation of Stratford, and was in all probability born about 1530. John Shak
“ Whose muse, full of high thought's invention,
Doth like himself heroically sound ;” 5
a Shakspere, of whom it was also said
“ He seems to shake a lance As brandish'd at the eyes of ignorance."6
Certainly there was a Shakspere, the paternal ancestor of William Shakspere, who, if he stood not nigh the little
1 Hall's Chronicle. 2 Ibid.
3 A list of the brethren and sisters of the Guild of Knowle, near Rowington, in Warwickshire, exhibits a great number of the name of Shakspere in that
spere was of the third generation succeeding the adherent of Henry VII. The family had continued in those parts “ by some descents;” but how they were occupied in the business of life, what was their station in society, how they branched out into other lines of Shaksperes, we have no distinct record. They were probably cultivators of the soil, unambitious small proprietors. The name may be traced by legal documents in many parishes of Warwickshire; but we learn from a deed of trust, executed in 1550 by Robert Arden, the maternal grandfather of William Shakspere, that Richard Shakspere was the occupier of land in Snitterfield, the property of Robert Arden. At this parish of Snitterfield lived a Henry Shakspere, who, as we learn from a declaration in the Court of Record at Stratford, was the brother of John Shakspere. It is conjectured, and very reasonably, that Richard Shakspere, of Snitterfield, was the paternal grandfather of William Shakspere. Snitterfield is only three miles distant from Stratford.
A painter of manners, who comes near to the times of John Shakspere, has described the probable condition of his immediate ancestors :-“Yeomen are those which by our law are called legales homines, free men born English.
.. The truth is, that the word is derived from the Saxon term zeoman, or geoman, which signifieth (as I have read) a settled or staid man. This sort of people have a certain pre-eminence and more estimation than labourers and the common sort of artificers, and these commonly live wealthily, keep good houses, and travel to get riches. They are also for the most part farmers to gentlemen, or at the leastwise artificers; and with grazing, frequenting of markets, and keeping of servants (not idle servants as the gentlemen do, but such as get both their own and part of their masters' living), do come to great wealth, insomuch that many of them are able and do buy the lands of unthrifty gentlemen, and often, setting their sons to the schools, to the universities, and to the inns of the court, or otherwise leaving them sufficient lands whereupon they may live without labour, do make them by those means to become gentlemen : these were they that in times past made all France afraid.” Plain-speaking Harrison, who wrote this description in the middle of the reign of Elizabeth, tells us how the yeoman and the descendants of the yeoman could be changed into gentlemen :-“Whosoever studieth the laws of the realm, whoso abideth in the university giving his mind to his book, or professeth physic and the liberal sciences, or beside his service in the room of a captain in the wars, or good counsel given at home, whereby his commonwealth is benefited, can live without manual labour, and thereto is able and will bear the port, charge, and countenance of a gentleman, he shall for money have a coat and arms bestowed upon him by heralds (who in the charter of the same do of custom pretend antiquity and service, and many gay things), and thereunto being made so good cheap, be called master, which is the title that men give to esquires and gentlemen, and reputed for a gentleman ever after." And so John Shakspere, whilst he was bailiff of Stratford in 1568 or 1569, desired to have “a coat and arms;” and for instruction to the heralds as to the “gay things" they were to say in their charter, of “honour and service," he told them, and he no doubt told them truly, that he was great-grandson to one who had been advanced and rewarded by Henry VII. And so for ever after he was no more goodman Shakspere, or John Shakspere, yeoman, but Master Shakspere; and this short change in his condition was produced by virtue of a grant of arms by Robert Cook, Clarencieux King at Arms; which shield or coat of arms was confirmed by William Dethick, Garter, principal King of Arms, in 1596, as follows:-“ Gould, on a bend sable and a speare of the first, the poynt steeled, proper; and his crest, or cognizance, a faulcon, his wings displayed, argent, standing on a wrethe of his coullors supporting a speare gould steele
as aforesaid, sett uppon a helmet with mantells and tassells."
But there were other arms one day to be impaled with the “speare of the first, the poynt steeled, proper.” In 1599 John Shakspere again goes to the College of Arms, and, producing his own“ ancient coat of arms," says that he has “married the daughter and one of the heirs of Robert Arden, of Wellingcote:” and then the heralds take the “speare of the first," and say—“We have likewise upon one other escutcheon impaled the same with the ancient arms of the said Arden of Wellingcote.” They add that John Shakspere, and his children, issue, and posterity, may bear and use the same shield of arms, single or impaled.
The family of Arden was one of the highest antiquity in Warwickshire. Dugdale traces its pedigree uninterruptedly up to the time of Edward the Confessor. Under the head of Curdworth, a parish in the hundred of Hemlingford, he says—“In this place I have made choice to speak historically of that most ancient and worthy family, whose surname was first assumed from their residence in this part of the country, then and yet called Arden, by reason of its woodiness, the old Britons and Gauls using the word in that sense.” At the time of the Norman inva. sion there resided at Warwick, Turchil,“ a man of especial note and power” and of “great possessions.” In the Domesday Book his father, Alwyne, is styled vice comes. Turchil, as well as his father, received favour at the hands of the Conqueror. He retained the possession of vast lands in the shire, and he occupied Warwick Castle as a military governor. He was thence called Turchil de Warwick by the Normans. But Dugdale goes on to say“He was one of the first here in England that, in imitation of the Normans, assumed a surname, for so it appears that he did, and wrote himself Turchillus de Eardene, in the days of King William Rufus." The history of the De Ardens, as collected with wonderful industry by Dugdale, spreads over six centuries. Such records seldom present much variety of incident, however great and wealthy be the family to which they are linked. In this instance a shrievalty or an attainder varies the register of birth and marriage, but generation after generation passes away without leaving any enduring traces of its sojourn on the earth. Fuller has not the name of a single De Arden amongst his “Worthies"-men illustrious for something more than birth or riches, with the exception of those who swell the lists of sheriffs for the county. The pedigree which Dugdale gives of the Arden family brings us no nearer in the direct line to the mother of Shakspere than to Robert Arden, her great-grandfather: he was the third son of Walter Arden, who married Eleanor, the daughter of John Hampden, of Buckinghamshire; and he was brother to Sir John Arden, squire for the body to Henry VII. Malone, with laudable industry, has continued the pedigree in the younger branch. Robert's son, also called Robert, was groom of the chamber to Henry VII. He appears to have been a favourite; for he had a valuable lease granted him by the king of the manor of Yoxsall, in Staffordshire, and was also made keeper of the royal park of Aldercar. His uncle, Sir John Arden, probably showed him the road to these benefits. The squire for the body was a high officer of the ancient Court; and the groom
of the chamber was an inferior officer, but one who had service and responsibility. The correspondent offices of modern times, however encumbered with the wearisomeness of etiquette, are relieved from the old duties, which are now intrusted to hired servants. The squire for the body had to array the king and unarray; no man else was to set hand on the king. The groom of the robes was to present the squire for the body “all the king's stuff, as well his shoon as his other gear;” but the squire for the body was to draw them on. If the sun of majesty was to