"That he would," said Robin, "and so said my father and Alderman Henry
Walker, who, y' know, is Will Shakspere's own friend. And some of the
burgesses who cared not a rap for that were afeard of offending the Lord
Admiral. But Sir Thomas vowed that my Lord Howard was at Cadiz with
Walter Raleigh and the young Earl of Sussex, and would by no means hear
of it. So Master Bailiff Stubbes, who, 'tis said, doth owe Sir Thomas
forty pound, and is therefore under his thumb, forthwith refused the
company license to play in Stratford guildhall, inn-yard, or common. And
at that the master-player threw his glove into Master Stubbes's face,
and called Sir Thomas a stupid old bell-wether, and Stratford burgesses
silly sheep for following wherever he chose to jump."

"And so they be," sneered Hal Saddler.

"How?" cried Robin, hotly. "My father is a burgess. Dost thou call him a
sheep, Hal Saddler?"

"Nay, nay," stammered Hal, hastily; "'twas not thy father I meant."

"Then hold thy tongue with both hands," said Robin, sharply, "or it will
crack thy pate for thee some of these fine days."

"But come, Robin," asked Nick, eagerly, "what became of the quarrel?"

"Well, when the master-player threw his glove into Master Stubbes's
face, the Chief Constable seized him for contempt of Stratford Council,
and held him for trial. At that some cried 'Shame!' and some 'Hurrah!'
but the rest of the players fled out of town in the night, lest their
baggage be taken by the law and they be fined."