Thereupon he that was called the chief player did incontinently proceed to load mine arms and wallet with many and divers rolls of manuscripts in my Lord's own hand, and bade me say unto him that there was a great frost over London, but that if he were to perform those plays and masques publickly, there would be a greater frost there--to wit, in the Globe playhouse.

This I did deliver with the Manuscripts to my Lord, who changed countenance mightily at the sight of them, but could make nought of the message.
At which the lad who held the horses before the playhouse--one Will Shakespeare--split with laughter.

Whereat my Lord cursed him for a deer-stealing, coney-catching Warwickshire lout, and cuffed him soundly.

I wot there will be those who remember that this Will Shakespeare afterwards became a player and did write plays--which were acceptable even to the Queen's Majesty's self--and I set this down not from vanity to shew I have held converse with such, nor to give a seemingness and colour to my story, but to shew what ill-judged, misinformed knaves were they who did afterwards attribute friendship between my Lord and this Will Shakespeare, even to the saying that he made sonnets to my Lord.

Howbeit, my Lord was exceeding wroth, and I, to beguile him, did propose that we should leave our horses and cargoes of manuscript behind and cross on the ice afoot, which conceit pleased him mightily.