You have a goodly dwelling and a rich.
"Shallow. Barren, barren, barren; beggars all, beggars all, Sir
John:--marry, good air"
Whatever may have been the joviality of the old mansion in the
days of Shakespeare, it had now an air of stillness and solitude.
The great iron gateway that opened into the courtyard was locked,
there was no show of servants bustling about the place; the deer
gazed quietly at me as I passed, being no longer harried by the
moss-troopers of Stratford. The only sign of domestic life that I
met with was a white cat stealing with wary look and stealthy
pace towards the stables, as if on some nefarious expedition. I
must not omit to mention the carcass of a scoundrel crow which I
saw suspended against the barn-wall, as it shows that the Lucys
still inherit that lordly abhorrence of poachers and maintain
that rigorous exercise of territorial power which was so
strenuously manifested in the case of the bard.
After prowling about for some time, I at length found my way to a
lateral portal, which was the every-day entrance to the mansion.
I was courteously received by a worthy old housekeeper, who, with
the civility and communicativeness of her order, showed me the
interior of the house.
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