"That Shakespeare," cries the colonel, "was a fine fellow. He was a
very pretty poet indeed. Was it not Shakespeare that wrote the play
about Hotspur? You must remember these lines. I got them almost by
heart at the playhouse; for I never missed that play whenever it was
acted, if I was in town:--

By Heav'n it was an easy leap,
To pluck bright honour into the full moon,
Or drive into the bottomless deep.

And--and--faith, I have almost forgot them; but I know it is something
about saving your honour from drowning--O! it is very fine! I say, d--
n me, the man that writ those lines was the greatest poet the world
ever produced. There is dignity of expression and emphasis of
thinking, d--n me."

Booth assented to the colonel's criticism, and then cried, "I wish,
colonel, you would be so kind to give me that letter." The colonel
answered, if he had any particular use for it he would give it him
with all his heart, and presently delivered it; and soon afterwards
they parted.

Several passages now struck all at once upon Booth's mind, which gave
him great uneasiness. He became confident now that he had mistaken one
colonel for another; and, though he could not account for the letter's
getting into those hands from whom Bath had taken it (indeed James had
dropt it out of his pocket), yet a thousand circumstances left him no
room to doubt the identity of the person, who was a man much more
liable to raise the suspicion of a husband than honest Bath, who would
at any time have rather fought with a man than lain with a woman.