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I. I had come to Stratford on poetical pilgrimage. My first visit was to house where Shakespeare was born. It is small mean-looking house of wood. Walls of its rooms are covered with names and inscriptions in every language, by pilgrims of all nations, ranks and conditions, from prince to peasant, and present simple but striking instance of spontaneous and universal homage of mankind to great poet.
II. House is shown by talkative old lady, with frosty red face,
decorated with artificial locks of golden hair, curling from under ex
ceedingly dirty cap. She was peculiarly persistent in exhibiting relics,
of which there are great number in house. There was broken gun
with which Shakespeare shot deer. There too, was his tobacco box,
and identical lantern with which Friar Laurence discovered Romeo
and Juliet at tomb! Most favourite object of curiosity, however, is
Shakespeare's chair. It stands in chimney corner of small gloomy
room.
III. Here he may many time have sat when boy, watching meat
roasting over fire, or listening to old men and women of Stratford,
telling tales and legendary anecdotes of troublesome times of Eng
land. In this chair it is custom of everyone that visits house to sit.
Whether this be done with hope of absorbing any of inspiration of
poet I am at loss to say, I merely mention tact; and my guide pri
vately assured me that, though built of solid oak, chair had to be
new bottomed at least once in three years.
Дата публикования: 2014-11-02; Прочитано: 213 | Нарушение авторского права страницы | Мы поможем в написании вашей работы!