diff options
| author | nfenwick <nfenwick@pglaf.org> | 2025-02-05 04:44:08 -0800 |
|---|---|---|
| committer | nfenwick <nfenwick@pglaf.org> | 2025-02-05 04:44:08 -0800 |
| commit | f398005dab76fe11c7950e76051f234715d26783 (patch) | |
| tree | 11fd71ee08f0676b033f49f1b9a75dbd9b7319be | |
| parent | 85f2bb9fc19f5c1b3095469ed1ca3ee3bb94bbcb (diff) | |
| -rw-r--r-- | .gitattributes | 4 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | LICENSE.txt | 11 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | README.md | 2 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/50712-0.txt | 5769 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/50712-0.zip | bin | 74701 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/50712-h.zip | bin | 136491 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/50712-h/50712-h.htm | 6282 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/50712-h/images/cover.jpg | bin | 36701 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/50712-h/images/i_002.jpg | bin | 21116 -> 0 bytes |
9 files changed, 17 insertions, 12051 deletions
diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..59e8779 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #50712 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/50712) diff --git a/old/50712-0.txt b/old/50712-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 52c5114..0000000 --- a/old/50712-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,5769 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Will Shakespeare, by Clemence Dane - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: Will Shakespeare - An Invention in Four Acts - -Author: Clemence Dane - -Release Date: December 17, 2015 [EBook #50712] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WILL SHAKESPEARE *** - - - - -Produced by Andrew Sly, Paul Marshall, Al Haines and the -Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - - - - - - -Transcriber's Notes: - Underscores "_" before and after a word or phrase indicate _italics_ - in the original text. - Equals signs "=" before and after a word or phrase indicate =bold= - in the original text. - Small capitals have been converted to BLOCK capitals. - The play is in both prose and poetry. It alternates between the two - unpredictably, (sometimes in mid-sentence). - - _BY THE SAME AUTHOR_ - - _NOVELS_: - _REGIMENT OF WOMEN_ - _FIRST THE BLADE_ - _LEGEND_ - _PLAY_: - _A BILL OF DIVORCEMENT_ - - _LONDON: WILLIAM HEINEMANN_ - - - - - WILL SHAKESPEARE - - AN INVENTION IN FOUR ACTS - - BY - CLEMENCE DANE - - - [Illustration: 1921] - LONDON: WILLIAM HEINEMANN - - - ‘_There’s a divinity that shapes our ends, - Rough-hew them how we will._’ - - SHAKESPEARE. - - - THE PEOPLE OF THE PLAY - _As they appear._ - - ANNE HATHAWAY. - WILL SHAKESPEARE. - MRS. HATHAWAY. - HENSLOWE. - A CHILD. - PLAYERS. - QUEEN ELIZABETH. - MARY FITTON. - KIT MARLOWE. - STAGE HANDS. - A BOY. - A LANDLORD. - A MAN. - ANOTHER MAN. - A GIRL. - A STREET HAWKER. - A PAGE. - SOLDIERS, ATTENDANTS, ETC. - - ACT I.--A COTTAGE IN STRATFORD. - - ACT II.--TEN YEARS LATER-- - _Scene 1_. A ROOM IN THE PALACE. - _Scene 2_. THREE MONTHS LATER--THE FIRST NIGHT OF - “ROMEO AND JULIET.” - - ACT III.-- - _Scene 1_. A MONTH LATER--SHAKESPEARE’S LODGING. - _Scene 2_. THE SAME NIGHT--A ROOM AT AN INN. - - ACT IV.--THE NEXT DAY--A STATE ROOM IN THE PALACE. - -The Play was first acted at the Shaftesbury Theatre, London, on -November 17th, 1921, by the Reandean Company, with the following -cast:-- - - WILL SHAKESPEARE Mr. Philip Merivale - ANNE Miss Moyna Macgill - Mrs. HATHAWAY Miss Mary Rorke - HENSLOWE Mr. Arthur Whitby - QUEEN ELIZABETH Miss Haidee Wright - MARY FITTON Miss Mary Clare - KIT MARLOWE Mr. Claude Rains - - A CHILD ACTOR Master Eric Spear - A SECRETARY Mr. Arthur Bawtree - A STAGE HAND Mr. Gilbert Ritchie - A BOY Master Spear - A LANDLORD Mr. Ivor Barnard - A LADY-IN-WAITING Miss Joan Maclean - - _Shadows in Act I._ - - Ophelia Miss Lennie Pride - Desdemona Miss Gladys Jessel - Othello Mr. Herbert Young - Queen Margaret Miss Flora Robson - Prince Arthur Mr. Eric Crosbie - Rosalind Miss Phyllis Fabian - Shylock Mr. Gilbert Ritchie - Clown Mr. Ivor Barnard - Hamlet Mr. Neil Curtis - Caesar Mr. Arthur Bawtree - Cleopatra Miss Mai Ashley - King Lear Mr. Fred Morgan - { Miss Nora Robinson - The Three Fates { Miss Gladys Gray - {Miss Beatrice Smith - -_Strolling Players, Beefeaters, Stage Hands, Drinkers, Court -Attendants, etc._ - - The Production by BASIL DEAN. - The Music by THOMAS WOOD. - Designs for the Scenery and Dresses by GEORGE HARRIS. - - - - -ACT I. - - _The curtain rises on the living room of a sixteenth - century cottage. The walls and ceiling are of - black beams and white-washed plaster. On the left - is a large oven fireplace with logs burning. - Beyond it is a door. At the back is another door - and a mullioned window half open giving a glimpse - of bare garden hedge and winter sky. On the right - wall is a staircase running down from the ceiling - into the room, a dresser and a light shelf - holding a book or two. Under the shelf is a small - table piled with papers, ink-stand, sand box and - so on. At it sits_ SHAKESPEARE, _his elbows on - his papers, his head in his hands, absorbed. He - is a boy of twenty but looks older. He is dark - and slight. His voice is low, but, he speaks very - clearly. Behind him_ ANNE HATHAWAY _moves to and - fro from dresser to the central table, laying a - meal. She is a slender, pale woman with reddish - hair. Her movements are quick and furtive and she - has a high sweet voice that shrills too easily._ - - ANNE [_hesitating, with little pauses between the sentences_]. - Supper is ready, Will! Will, did you hear? - A farm-bird--Mother brought it. Won’t you come? - She’s crying in for the basket presently. - First primroses! Here, smell! Sweet, aren’t - they? Bread? - Are the snow wreaths gone from the fields? Did you - go far? - Are you wet? Was it cold? There’s black frost in - the air, - My mother says, and spring hangs dead on the boughs-- - Oh, you might answer when I speak to you! - SHAKESPEARE _gets up quickly._ - Where are you going? - - SHAKESPEARE. Out! - - ANNE. Where? - - SHAKESPEARE. Anywhere-- - - ANNE. --away from me! Yes! Say it! - - SHAKESPEARE [_under his breath_]. Patience! Patience! - - ANNE. Come back! Come back! I’m sorry. Oh, come back! - I talk too much. I crossed you. You must eat. - Oh! Oh! I meant no harm--I meant no harm I-- - You know? - - SHAKESPEARE. I know. - - ANNE. Why then, come back and eat, - And talk to me. Aren’t you a boy to lose - All day in the woods? - - SHAKESPEARE. The town! - - ANNE. Ah! In the town? - Ah then, you’ve talked and eaten. Yes, you can talk - In the town! - _He goes back to his desk._ - More writing? What’s the dream to-day? - _He winces._ - Oh, tell me, tell me! - - SHAKESPEARE. No! - - ANNE. I want your dreams. - - SHAKESPEARE. A dream’s a bubble, Anne, and yet a world, - Unsailed, uncharted, mine. But stretch your hand - To touch it--gone! And you have wet your fingers, - Whilst I, like Alexander, want my world-- - And so I scold my wife. - - ANNE. Oh, let me sail - Your world with you. - - SHAKESPEARE. One day, when all is mapped - On paper-- - - ANNE. Now! - - SHAKESPEARE. Not yet. - - ANNE. Now, now! - - SHAKESPEARE. I cannot! - - ANNE. Because you will not. Ever you shut me out. - - SHAKESPEARE. How many are there in the listening room? - - ANNE. We two. - - SHAKESPEARE. We three. - - ANNE. Will! - - SHAKESPEARE. Are there not three? Yet swift, - Because it is too soon, you shrink from me, - Guarding your mystery still; so must I guard - My dreams from any touch till they are born. - - ANNE. What! Do you make our bond our barrier now? - - SHAKESPEARE. See, you’re a child that clamours--“Let me taste!” - But laugh and let it sip your wine, it cries-- - “I like it not. It is not sweet!”--and blames you. - See! even when I give you cannot take. - - ANNE. Try me! - - SHAKESPEARE. Too late. - - ANNE. I will not think I know - What cruelty you mean. What is’t you mean? - What is’t? - - SHAKESPEARE. How long since we two married? - - ANNE. Why, - Four months. - - SHAKESPEARE. And are you happy? - - ANNE. Will, aren’t you? - - SHAKESPEARE. I asked my wife. - - ANNE. I am! I am! I am! - Oh, how can I be happy when I read - Your eyes, and read--what is it that I read? - - SHAKESPEARE. God knows! - - ANNE. Yes, God He knows, but He’s so far away-- - Tell Anne! - - SHAKESPEARE. Touch not these cellar thoughts, half worm, half weed: - Give them no light, no air: be warned in time: - Break not the seal nor roll away the stone, - Lest the blind evil writhe itself heart-high - And its breath stale us! - - ANNE. Oh, what evil? - - SHAKESPEARE. Know you not? - Why then I’ll say “Thank God!” and never tell you-- - And yet I think you know? - - ANNE. Am I your wife, - Wiser than your own mother in your ways - (For she was wise for many, I’ve but you) - Ways in my heart stored, and with them the unborn - I feed, that he may grow a second you-- - Am I your wife, so close to you all day, - So close to you all night, that oft I lie - Counting your heart-beats--do I watch you stir - And cry out suddenly and clench your hand - Till the bone shows white, and then you sigh and turn, - And sometimes smile, but never ope your eyes, - Nor know me with a seeking touch of hands - That bids me share the dream--am I your wife, - Can I be woman and your very wife - And know not you are burdened? You lock me out, - Yet at the door I wait, wringing my hands - To help you. - - SHAKESPEARE. You could help me; but--I know you! - You’d help me, in your way, to go--your way! - - ANNE. The right way. - - SHAKESPEARE. Said I not, sweetheart--your way? - So--leave it! - _He begins to write_. ANNE _goes to the window_ - _and leans against it looking out._ - - ANNE [_softly_]. Give me words! God, give me words. - - SHAKESPEARE. Sweetheart, you stay the light. - - ANNE. The pane is cool. - _She moves to one side._ - Can you see now? - - SHAKESPEARE. That’s better. - _The twang of a lute is heard._ - - ANNE. The road dances. - - A VOICE [_singing_]. Come with me to London, - Folly, come away! - I’ll make your fortune - On a fine day-- - - ANNE. A stranger with my mother at the gate! - - _She opens the door to_ MRS. HATHAWAY, _who enters._ - - THE VOICE [_nearer_]. Daisy leave and buttercup! - Pick your gold and silver up, - In London, in London, - Oh, London Town! - - ANNE. What have you brought us, Mother, unawares? - - MRS. HATHAWAY. Why, I met the man in the lane and he asked his - way here. He wants Will. - - ANNE. Does he, and does he? - - SHAKESPEARE [_at the window_]. - One of the players. In the town I met him - And had some talk, and told him of my play. - - ANNE. You told a stranger and a player? But I-- - I am not told! - - THE VOICE [_close at hand_]. - For sheep can feed - And robins breed - Without you, without you, - And the world get on without you-- - Oh, London Town! - - SHAKESPEARE _goes to the door._ - - ANNE [_stopping him_]. What brings him here? - - SHAKESPEARE. I bring him! - To my own house. [_He goes out._] - - MRS. HATHAWAY. Trouble? - - ANNE. Why no! No trouble! - I am not beaten, starved, nor put on the street. - - MRS. HATHAWAY. Be wise, be wise, for the child’s sake, be wiser! - - ANNE. What shall I do? Out of your fifty years, - What shall I do to hold him? - - MRS. HATHAWAY. A low voice - And a light heart is best--and not to judge. - - ANNE. Light, Mother, light? Oh, Mother, Mother, Mother! - I’m battling on the crumble-edge of loss - Against a seaward wind, that drives his ship - To fortunate isles, but carries me cliff over, - Clutching at flint and thistle-hold, to braise me - Upon the barren benches he has left - For ever. - - SHAKESPEARE _and the player_, HENSLOWE, _come in talking._ - - MRS. HATHAWAY [_at the inner door_]. - Come, find my basket for me. Let them be! - - ANNE. Look at him, how his face lights up! - - MRS. HATHAWAY. Come now, - And leave them to it! - - ANNE. I dare not, Mother, I dare not. - - MRS. HATHAWAY. It’s not the way--a little trust-- - - ANNE. I dare not. - MRS. HATHAWAY _goes out at the door by the fire._ - - HENSLOWE [_in talk. He is a stout, good-humoured, elderly man, - with bright eyes and a dancing step. He wears ear-rings, is - dressed shabby-handsome, and is splashed with mud. A lute is - slung at his shoulder_]. Played? It shall be played. That’s why - I’m here. - - ANNE [_behind them_]. Will! - - SHAKESPEARE [_turning_]. This is my wife. - - ANNE [_curtseys. Then, half aside_]. Who is the man? - Where from? What is his name? - - HENSLOWE [_overhearing_]. Proteus, Madonna! A poor son of the god. - - SHAKESPEARE _laughs._ - - ANNE. A foreigner? - - HENSLOWE. Why, yes and no! I’m from Spain at the moment--I have - castles there; but my bed-sitting room (a green room, Madonna) is - in Blackfriars. As to my means, for I see your eye on my travel - stains, I have a bank account, also in Spain, a box-office, - and the best of references. The world and his wife employ me, - the Queen comes to see me, and all the men of genius run to be - my servants. But as to who I am--O Madonna, who am I not? I’ve - played every card in the pack, beginning as the least in the - company, the mere unit, the innocent ace, running up my number - with each change of hand to Jack, Queen, King, and so to myself - again, the same mere One, but grown to my hopes. For Queen may - blow kisses, King of Hearts command all hands at court, but Ace - in his shirt-sleeves is manager and trumps them off the board at - will. You may learn from this Ace; for I think, sir, you will end - as he does, the master of your suit. - - ANNE. A fortune-teller too! - - HENSLOWE. Will you cross my palm with a sixpence, Madonna? - - ANNE. With nothing. - - HENSLOWE. Beware lest I tell you for nothing that you--fear - your fortune! - - SHAKESPEARE [_spreading his hand_]. Is mine worth fearing? - - HENSLOWE. Here’s an actor’s hand, and a bad one. You’ll lose your - words, King o’ Hearts. Your great scenes will break down. - - SHAKESPEARE. Then I’ll be ’prenticed direct to the Ace. - - HENSLOWE. Too fast. You must come to cues like the rest of us, - and play out your part, before you can be God Almighty in the - wings--as God himself found out when the world was youngish. - - ANNE. We’re plain people, sir, and my husband works his farm. - - HENSLOWE. And sings songs? I’ve been trying out a new play in the - provinces before we risk London and Gloriana-- - - ANNE. What! the Queen! the Queen? - - HENSLOWE. Oh, she keeps her eye on poor players as well as on - Burleigh and the fleet. _There’s_ God Almighty in the wings if - you like! But as I say-- - Whatever barn we storm, here in the west, - We’re marching to the echo of new songs, - Jigged out in taverns, trolled along the street, - Loosed under sweetheart windows, whistled and sighed - Wherever a farmer’s boy in Lover’s Lane - Shifts from the right foot to the left and waits-- - “Where did you hear it?” say I, beating time: - And always comes the answer--“Stratford way!” - A green parish, Stratford! - - SHAKESPEARE. Too flat, though I love it. Give me hills to climb! - - HENSLOWE. Flat? You should see Norfolk, where I was a boy. From - sky to sky there’s no break in the levels but shock-head willows - and reed tussocks where a singing bird may nest. But in which? - Oh, for that you must sit unstirring in your boat, between still - water and still sky, while the drips run off your blade until, a - yard away, uprises the song. Then, flash! part the rushes--the - nest is bare and the bird your own! Oh, I know the ways of the - water birds! And so, hearing of a cygnet on the banks of Avon-- - - ANNE. Ah! - - HENSLOWE. You’re right, Madonna, the poetical vein runs dry. So - I’ll end with a plain question--“Is not Thames broader than Avon?” - - SHAKESPEARE. Muddier-- - - HENSLOWE. But a magical water to hasten the moult, to wash white - a young swan’s feathers. - - SHAKESPEARE. Or black, Mephisto! - - HENSLOWE. Black swans are rarest. I saw one when I was last in - London. London’s a great city! Madonna, you should send your - husband to market in London, and in a twelvemonth he’ll bring you - home the world in his pocket as it might be a russet apple. - - ANNE. What should we do with the world, sir, here in Stratford? - - HENSLOWE. Why, seed it and sow it, and plant it in your garden, - and it’ll grow into the tree of knowledge. - - ANNE [_turning away_]. My garden is planted already. - - HENSLOWE [_in a low voice_], - The black swan seeks a mate, black swan. - - SHAKESPEARE. A woman? - - ANNE [_turning sharply_]. What did he say to you? - - HENSLOWE. Why, that a woman can make her fortune in London as - well as a man. There’s one came lately to court, but sixteen and - a mere knight’s daughter, without a penny piece, and you should - see her now! The men at her feet-- - - ANNE. And the women--? - - HENSLOWE. Under her heel. - - ANNE. What does the Queen say? - - HENSLOWE. Winks and lets her be, - A fashion out of fashion--gipsy-black - Among the ladies with their bracken hair, - (The Queen, you know, is red!) - - SHAKESPEARE. A vixen, eh? - - HENSLOWE. Treason, my son! - - ANNE. God made us anyway and coloured us! - - SHAKESPEARE. And is he less the artist if at will - He strings a black pearl, hangs between the camps - Of day and day the banner of His dark? - Or that He leaves, when with His autumn breath - He fans the bonfire of the woods, a pine - Unkindled? - - HENSLOWE. True; and such a black is she - Among the golden women. - - SHAKESPEARE. I see your pine, - Your branching solitude, your evening tree, - With high, untroubled head, that meets the eye - As lips meet unseen kisses in the night-- - A perfumed dusk, a canopy of dreams - And chapel of ease, a harp for summer airs - To tremble in-- - - ANNE. Barren the ground beneath, - No flowers, no grass, the needles lying thick, - Spent arrows-- - - SHAKESPEARE. Yes, she knows--we know how women - Can prick a man to death with needle stabs. - - ANNE. O God! - - HENSLOWE. Your wife! She’s ill! - - SHAKESPEARE. Anne? - - ANNE. Let me be! - - SHAKESPEARE. Come to your mother--take my arm-- - - ANNE. I’ll sit. - I have no strength. - - SHAKESPEARE. I’ll call her to you. [_He goes out._] - - ANNE. Quick! - Before he comes, what is her name? her name? - Her mood? her mind? In all the town of Stratford - Was there no door but this to pound at? Quick! - You know her? Did you see his look? O God! - The last rope parts. He’s like a boat that strains, - Strains at her moorings. Why did you praise her so? - And talk of London? What’s it all to you? - Tall, is she? Yes, like a tree--a block of wood-- - You said so! (Is he coming?) Tell me quick! - I’ve never seen a London lady close. - She’s lovely? So are many! How? - - HENSLOWE. She’s new! - She’s gallant, like a tall ship setting sail, - And boasts she fears no man. Say “woman” though-- - - ANNE. What woman does this woman fear? - - HENSLOWE. The Queen. - I’ve seen it in her eye. - - ANNE. I should not fear. - - HENSLOWE. You never saw the Queen of England smile - And crook her finger, once--and the fate falls. - - ANNE. I’ve seen her picture. She’s eaten of a worm - As I am eaten. I’d not fear the Queen. - Her snake would know its fellow in my heart - And pass me. But this woman--what’s her name? - - HENSLOWE. Mary-- - - ANNE. That’s “bitter.” I shall find her so. - SHAKESPEARE _comes in with_ MRS. HATHAWAY. - Look at him! Fear the Queen? Did not the Queen, - My sister, meet a Mary long ago - That bruised her in the heel? - - HENSLOWE. Man, your wife’s mad! - She says the Queen’s her sister. - - ANNE. Mad, noble Festus? - Not I! But tell him so--he’ll kiss you for it. - - HENSLOWE. I’ll meet you, friend, some other time or place-- - - SHAKESPEARE. What’s this? You’re leaving us? - - HENSLOWE. Your wife’s too ill-- - - SHAKESPEARE. Too ill to stand, yet not too ill to--[_Aside_] Anne! - Why does he stare? What have you told my friend? - - ANNE. Your friend! - - SHAKESPEARE. My friend! - - ANNE. This once-met Londoner! - What does he want of you, in spite of me? - This bribing tramp, this palpable decoy-- - - SHAKESPEARE. Be silent in my house before my friends! - Be silent! - - ANNE. This your friend! - - SHAKESPEARE. Silent, I say! - - ANNE. I _will_ not! Blows? Would you do that to me, - Husband? - - SHAKESPEARE. I never touched you! - - ANNE. What! No blow? - Here, where I felt it--here? Is there no wound, - No black mark? - - MRS. HATHAWAY. Oh, she’s wild! I’ll take her. Come! - Come, Anne! It’s naught! I know the signs. - [_To_ SHAKESPEARE]. - Stay you! - - ANNE. O Mother, there befell me a strange pang - Here at my heart--[_The two go out together._] - - SHAKESPEARE. O women! women! women! - They slink about you, noiseless as a cat, - With ready smiles and ready silences. - These women are too humble and too wise - In pricking needle-ways: they drive you mad - With fibs and slips and kisses out of time: - And if you do not trip and feign as they - And cover all with kisses, do but wince - Once in your soul (the soul they shall not touch, - Never, I tell you, never! Sooner the smeared, - The old-time honey death from a thousand stings, - Than let their tongue prick patterns on your soul!) - Then, then all’s cat-like clamour and annoy! - - HENSLOWE. Cry, “Shoo!” and clap your hands; for so are all - Familiar women. These are but interludes - In the march of the play, and should be taken so, - Lightly, as food for laughter, not for rage. - - SHAKESPEARE. My mother-- - - HENSLOWE [_shrugging_]. Ah, your mother! - - SHAKESPEARE. She’s not thus, - But selfless; and I’ve dreamed of others--tall, - Warm-flushed like pine-woods with their clear red stems, - With massy hair and voices like the wind - Stirring the cool dark silence of the pines. - Know you such women?--beckoning hill-top women, - That sway to you with lovely gifts of shade - And slumber, and deep peace, and when at dawn - You go from them on pilgrimage again, - They follow not nor weep, but rooted stand - In their own pride for ever--demi-gods. - Are there such women? Did you say you knew - Such women? such a woman? - - HENSLOWE. Come to London - And use your eyes! - - SHAKESPEARE. How can I come to London? - You see me what I am, a man tied down. - My wife--you saw! How can I come to London? - Say to a sick man “Take your bed and walk!” - Say to a prisoner “Release your chain!” - Say to a tongue-slit blackbird “Pipe again - As in the free, the spring-time!” You maybe - Have spells to help them, but for me no help. - London! - I think sometimes that I shall never see - This lady in whose lap the weed-hung ships - From ocean-end returning pour their gold, - Myrrh, frankincense. What colour’s frankincense? - And how will a man’s eye move and how his hand, - Who sailed the flat world round and home again - To London, London of the mazy streets, - Where ever the shifting people flash and fade - Like my own thoughts? You’re smiling--why? - - HENSLOWE. I live there. - - SHAKESPEARE. Oh, to be you! - To read the faces and to write the dreams, - To hear the voices and record the songs, - To grave upon the metal of my mind - All great men, lordlier than they know themselves, - And fowler-like to fling my net o’er London, - And some let fly, and clip the wings of some - Fit for my notes; till one fine day I catch - The Governess of England as she goes - To solemn service with her gentlemen: - (What thoughts behind the mask, beneath the crown?) - Queen! The crowd’s eyes are yours, but not my eyes! - Queen! To my piping you shall unawares - Strut on my stage for me! You laugh? I swear - I’ll make that thrice-wrapped, politic, vain heart - My horn-book (as you all are) whence I’ll learn - How Julius frowned, and Elinor rode her way - Rough-shod, and Egypt met ill-news. I’ll do it, - Though I hold horses in the streets for hire, - Once I am come to London. - - HENSLOWE. Come with us - And there’s no holding horses! Part and pay - Are ready, and we start to-night. - - SHAKESPEARE. I cannot. - I’m Whittington at cross-roads, but the bells - Ring “Turn again to Stratford!” not to London. - - HENSLOWE. Well--as you choose! - - SHAKESPEARE. As I choose? _I! I_ choose? - I’m married to a woman near her time - That needs me! Choose? I am not twenty, sir! - What devil sped you here to bid me choose? - I knew a boy went wandering in a wood, - Drunken with common dew and beauty-mad - And moonstruck. Then there came a nightshade witch, - Locked hands with him, small hands, hot hands, - down drew him, - Sighing--“Love me, love me!” as a ring-dove sighs, - (How white a woman is, under the moon!) - She was scarce human. Yet he took her home, - And now she’s turned in the gross light of day - To a haggard scold, and he handfasted sits - Breaking his heart--and yet the spell constrains him. - This is not I, not I, for I am bound - To a good wife and true, that loves me; but-- - I tell you I could write of such a man, - And make you laugh and weep at such a man, - For your own manhood’s sake, so bound, so bound. - - HENSLOWE. Laugh? Weep? No, I’d be a friend to such a man! Go to - him now and tell him from me--or no! Go rather to this wife of - his that loves him well, you say--? - - SHAKESPEARE. Too well! - - HENSLOWE. Why, man, it’s common! Or too light, too low, - Not once in a golden age love’s scale trims level. - - SHAKESPEARE. I read of lovers once in Italy-- - - HENSLOWE. You’ll write of lovers too, not once nor twice. - - SHAKESPEARE. Their scales were level ere they died of love, - In Italy-- - - HENSLOWE. But if instead they had lived--in Stratford--there’d - have been such a see-saw in six months as-- - - SHAKESPEARE. As what? - - HENSLOWE. As there has been, eh? - “See-saw! Margery Daw! - She sold her bed to lie upon straw.” - And so--poor Margery! Though she counts me an enemy--poor Margery! - - SHAKESPEARE. What help for Margery--and her Jack? - - HENSLOWE. None, friend, in Stratford. - - SHAKESPEARE. Do I not know it? - - HENSLOWE. Then--tell Margery! - - SHAKESPEARE. Deaf, deaf! - - HENSLOWE. Not if you tell her how all heels in London - (And the Queen dances!) - So trip to the Stratford tune that I hot-haste - Am sent to fetch the fiddler-- - - SHAKESPEARE. Man, is it true? - True that the Queen--? - - HENSLOWE. I say--tell Margery! - What! is she a woman, a wife, and will not further her man? I say - to you--tell Margery, as I tell you-- - - SHAKESPEARE. You do? - - HENSLOWE. I do. I do tell you that if you can come away with us - now with your ‘Dream’ in your pocket, and teach it to us and - learn of us while you teach, and strike London in time for the - Queen’s birthday--I tell you and I tell her, Jack’s a made man. - See what Margery says to that, and give me the answer, stay or - come, as I pass here to-night! And now let me go; for if I do not - soon whip my company clear of apple-juice and apple-bloom, clear, - that is to say, of Stratford wine and Stratford women, we shall - not pass here to-night. [_He goes out._] - - SHAKESPEARE. To-night! [_Calling_] Anne! Anne! [_He walks up and - down._] Oh, to be one of them to-night on the silver road--to - smell the steaming frost and listen to men’s voices and the ring - of iron on the London road! [_Calling_] Anne! - - ANNE [_entering_]. You called? He’s gone? You’re angry? - Oh, not now, - No anger now; for, Will, to-night in the sky, - Our sky, a new star shines. - - SHAKESPEARE. What’s that? You know? - - ANNE. I know, and oh, my heart sings. - - SHAKESPEARE. Anne, dear Anne, - You know? No frets? You wish it? Oh, dear Anne, - How did you guess and know? - - ANNE. My mother told me. - - SHAKESPEARE. She heard us? Did she hear--they’ve read the play, - And the Queen’s asked for me! London, Anne! London! - I’ll send you London home, my lass, by the post-- - Such frocks and fancies! London! London, Anne! - And you, you know? and speed me hence? By God, - That’s my own wife at last, all gold to me - And goodness! Anne, be better to me still - And help me hence to-night! - - ANNE. It dips, it dies, - A night-light, Mother, and no star. I grope - Giddily in the dark. - - SHAKESPEARE. What did she tell you? - - ANNE. No matter. Oh, it earns not that black look. - London? the Queen? I’ll help you, oh, be sure! - Too glad to see you glad. - - SHAKESPEARE. Anne, it’s good-bye - To Stratford till the game’s won. - - ANNE. What care I - So you are satisfied? The farm must go-- - That’s little-- - - SHAKESPEARE. Must it go? - - ANNE. Dreamer, how else - Shall we two live in London? - - SHAKESPEARE. _We_, do you say? - They’d have me travel with them--a rough life-- - - ANNE. I care not! - - SHAKESPEARE. --and you’re ailing. - - ANNE. Better soon. - - SHAKESPEARE. You’ll miss your mother. - - ANNE. Mothers everywhere - Will help a girl. I’m strong. - - SHAKESPEARE. It will not do! - I have my world to learn, and learn alone. - I will not dangle at your apron-strings. - - ANNE. I’ll be no tie. I’ll be your follower - And scarce your wife; but let me go with you! - - SHAKESPEARE. If you could see but once, once, with my eyes! - - ANNE. Will! let me go with you! - - SHAKESPEARE. I tell you--no! - Leave me to go my way and rule my life - After my fashion! I’ll not lean on you - Because you’re seven years wiser. - - ANNE. That too, O God! - - SHAKESPEARE. And if I hurt you--for I know I do, - I’m not so rapt--think of me, if you can, - As a man stifled that wildly throws his arms, - Raking the air for room--for room to breathe, - And so strikes unaware, unwillingly, - His lover! - - ANNE. I could sooner think of you - Asleep, and I beside you with the child, - And all this passion ended, as it must, - In quiet graves; for we have been such lovers - As there’s no room for in the human air - And daylight side of the grass. What shall I do? - And how live on? Why did you marry me? - - SHAKESPEARE. You know the why of that. - - ANNE. Too well we know it, - I and the child. You have well taught this fool - That thought a heart of dreams, a loving heart, - A soul, a self resigned, could better please - Than the blind flesh of a woman; for God knows - Your self drew me, the folded man in you, - Not, not the boy-husk. - - SHAKESPEARE. Yet the same God knows - When folly was, you willed it first, not I. - - ANNE. Old! Old as Adam! and untrue, untrue! - Why did you come to me at Shottery, - Out of your way, so often? laugh with me - Apart, and answer for me as of right, - As if you knew me better (ah, it was sweet!) - Than my own brothers? And on Sunday eves - You’d wait and walk with me the long way home - From church, with me alone, the foot-path way, - Across the fields where wild convolvulus - Strangles the corn-- - - SHAKESPEARE. Strangles the corn indeed! - - ANNE. --and still delay me talking at the stile, - Long after curfew, under the risen moon. - Why did you come? Why did you stay with me, - To make me love, to make me think you loved me? - - SHAKESPEARE. Oh, you were easy, cheap, you flattered me. - - ANNE [_crying out_]. I did not. - - SHAKESPEARE. Why, did you not look at me - As I were God? And for a while I liked it. - It fed some weed in me that since has withered; - For now I like it not, nor like you for it! - - ANNE. That is your fate, you change, you must ever be changing, - You climb from a boy to a man, from a man to a god, - And the god looks back on the man with a smile, - and the man on the boy with wonder; - But I, I am woman for ever: I change not at all. - You hold out your hands to me--heaven: you turn - from me--hell; - But neither the hell nor the heaven can change me: - I love you: I change not at all. - - SHAKESPEARE. All this leads not to London, and for London - I am resolved: if not to-night-- - - ANNE. To-night? - - SHAKESPEARE. As soon as maybe. When the child is born-- - When will the child be born? - - ANNE. Soon, soon-- - - SHAKESPEARE. How soon? - - ANNE. I think--I do not know-- - - SHAKESPEARE. In March? - - ANNE. Who knows? - - SHAKESPEARE. Did you not tell me March? - - ANNE. Easter-- - - SHAKESPEARE. That’s May! - It should be March. - - ANNE. It--should be--March-- - - SHAKESPEARE. Why, Anne? - - ANNE. Stay with me longer! Wait till Whitsuntide, - Till June, till summer comes, and if, when you see - Your own son, still you’ll leave us, why, go then! - But sure, you will not go. - - SHAKESPEARE. Summer? Why summer? - It should be spring, not summer-- - - ANNE. I’ll not bear - These questions, like coarse fingers, prying out - My secrets. - - SHAKESPEARE. Secrets? - - ANNE. Secrets? I? I’ve none-- - I never meant--I know not why the word - Came to me, “secret.” Yet you’re all secret thoughts - And plans you do not share. Why should not I - Be secret, if I choose? But see, I’ll tell you - All, all--some other time--were there indeed - A thing to tell-- - - SHAKESPEARE. When will the child be born? - - ANNE. If it were--June? My mother said to-day - It might be June--July--This woman’s talk - Is not for you-- - - SHAKESPEARE. July? - - ANNE. Oh, I must laugh - Because you look and look--don’t look at me! - June! May! I swear it’s May! I said the spring, - And May is still the girlhood of the year. - - SHAKESPEARE. July! A round year since you came to me! - Then--when you came to me, in haste, afraid, - All tears, and clung to me, and white-lipped swore - You had no friend but Avon if I failed you, - It was a lie? - - ANNE. Don’t look at me! - - SHAKESPEARE. No need? - You forced me with a lie? - - ANNE. Now there is--now! - - SHAKESPEARE. You locked me in this prison with a lie? - - ANNE. I loved you. - - SHAKESPEARE. And you lied to me-- - - ANNE. To hold you. - I couldn’t lose you. I was mad with pain. - - SHAKESPEARE. Are you so weak, - So candle-wavering, that a gust of pain - Could snuff out honour? - - ANNE. ’Ware this hurricane - Of pain! The deserts heed it not, nor rocks, - Nor the perpetual sea; but oh, the fields - Where barley grows and small beasts hide, they fear-- - And haggard woods that feel its violent hand - Entangled in their hair and wrestling, shriek - Crashing to ruin. What shall their pensioners - Do now, the rustling mice, the anemones, - The whisking squirrels, ivies, nightingales, - The hermit bee whose summer goods were stored - In a south bank? How shall the small things stand - Against the tempest, against the cruel sun - That stares them, homeless, out of countenance, - Through the day’s heats? - - SHAKESPEARE. Coward! They see the sun - Though they die seeing, and the wider view, - The vast horizons, the amazing skies - Undreamed before. - - ANNE. I cannot see so far. - I want my little loves, I want my home. - My life is rooted up, my prop is gone, - And like a vine I lie upon the ground, - Muddied and broken. - - SHAKESPEARE. I could be sorry for you - Under the heavy hand of God or man - But your own hand has slain yourself and me. - Woman, the shame of it, to trap me thus, - Knowing I never loved you! - - ANNE. Oh, for a month-- - In the spring, in the long grass, under the apple-trees-- - - SHAKESPEARE. I never loved you. - - ANNE. Think, when I hurt my hand - With the wild rose, it was then you said “Dear Anne!” - - SHAKESPEARE. I have forgotten. - - ANNE. On Midsummer Eve-- - There was a dream about a wood you told me, - Me--not another-- - - SHAKESPEARE. I was drunk with dreams - That night. - - ANNE. That night, that night you loved me, Will! - Oh, never look at me and say--that night, - Under the holy moon, there was no love! - - SHAKESPEARE. You knew it was not love. - - ANNE. O God, I knew, - And would not know! You never came again. - I hoped, I prayed. I hoped. I loved you so. - You never came. - And must I go to you? I was ashamed. - Yet in the wood I waited, waited, Will, - Night after night I waited, waited, Will, - Till shame itself was swallowed up in pain, - In pain of waiting, and--I went to you. - - SHAKESPEARE. That lie upon those loving lips? - - ANNE. That lie. - - SHAKESPEARE. There was no child? - - ANNE. The hope, the hope of children, - To bind you to me--a true hope to hold you-- - No lie--a little lie--I loved you so-- - Scarcely a lie--a promise to come true - Of gifts between us and a love to come. - - SHAKESPEARE. You’re mad! You’re mad! - - ANNE. I was mad. I am sane. - I am blind Samson, shaking down the house - Of torment on myself as well as you. - - SHAKESPEARE. What gain was there? What gain? - - ANNE. What gain but you? - The sight of your face and the sound of your foot - on the stair, - And your casual word to a stranger--“This is my wife!” - For the touch of my hand on your arm, as a - right, when we walked with the neighbours: - For the son, for the son on my heart, with your - smile and your frown: - For the loss of my name in the name that you gave when - you said to him--“Mother! your mother!” - For your glance at me over his head when he brought - us his toys or his tears: - Have pity! Have pity! Have pity! for these things - I did it. - - SHAKESPEARE. Words! Words! You lied to me. Go your own road! - I know you not. - - ANNE. But I, but I know you. - Have I not learned my god’s face? Have I not seen - The great dreams cloud it, as the ships of the sky - Darken the river? Has not the wind struck home, - The following chill wind that stirs all straws - Of omen? You’re to be great, God pity you! - I’m your poor village woman; but I know - What you must learn and learn, and shriek to God - To spare you learning, if you will be great, - Singing to men and women across fields - Of years, and hearing answer as they reap, - Afar, the centuried fields, “He knew, he knew!” - How will they listen to you--voice that cries - “Right’s right! Wrong’s wrong! For every sin a stone! - “Ye shall not plead to any god or man-- - “‘I flinched because the pain was very great,’ - “‘I fell because the burden bore me down,’ - “‘Hungry, I stole.’” O boy, ungrown, at judgment, - How will they listen? What? I lied? Oh, blind! - When I, your own, show you my heart of hearts, - A book for you to read all women by, - Blindly you turn my page with--“Here are lies!” - - SHAKESPEARE. Subtle enough--and glitter may be gold - In women’s eyes--you say so--though to a man, - Boy rather (boy, you called me) lies are lies, - Base money, though you rub ’em till they shine, - Ill money to buy love with; but--I care not! - So be at ease! My love’s not confiscate, - For none was yours to forfeit. Faith indeed, - A weakling trust is gone, for though you irked me - I thought you honest and so bore much from you-- - Your jealous-glancing eye, officious hand - Meddling my papers, fool’s opinion given - Unasked when strangers spoke with me, and laughter - Suddenly checked as if you feared a blow - As a dog does--it made me mad! - - ANNE. Go on! - - SHAKESPEARE. For when did I use you ill? - - ANNE. Go on! - - SHAKESPEARE. What need? - All’s in a word--your ever-presence here - As if you’d naught in life to do but watch me-- - - ANNE. Go on! - - SHAKESPEARE. All this, I say, I bore, because at heart - I did believe you loved me. Well--it’s gone! - And I go with it--free, a free man, free! - Anne! for that word I could forgive you all - And go from you in peace. - - ANNE [_catching at his arm_]. You shall not go! - - SHAKESPEARE. Shall not? This burr--how impudent it clings! - - ANNE. You have not heard me-- - - SHAKESPEARE. Let me go, I say! - My purse, my papers-- - - ANNE. Will! - - SHAKESPEARE. Talk to the walls, - For I hear nothing! - - ANNE. Why, a murderess - Has respite in my case--and I--and I-- - What have I done but love you, when all’s said? - You will not leave me now, now when that lie - Is certain truth at last, and in me sleeps - Like God’s forgiveness? For I felt it stir - When you were angry--I was angry too, - My fault, all mine--but I was sick and faint - And frightened, so I railed, because no word - Matched with the strong need in me suddenly - For gentlest looks and your beloved arms - About this body changed and shaking so; - But why I knew not. But my mother knew - And told me. - - SHAKESPEARE. O wise mother! - - ANNE. Will, it’s true! - - SHAKESPEARE. Practice makes perfect, as we wrote at school! - - ANNE. I swear to you-- - - SHAKESPEARE. As then you swore to me. - Not twice, not twice, my girl! - - ANNE. O God, God Son! - Pitiful God! If there be other lives, - As I have heard him say, as his books say, - In other bodies, for Your Mother’s sake - And all she knows (God, ask her what she knows!) - Let me not be a woman! Let me be - Some twisting worm on a hook, or fish they catch - And fling again to catch another year, - Or otter trapped and broiled in the sun three days, - Or lovely bird whose living wing men tear - From its live body, or of Italy - Some peasant’s drudge-horse whipped upon its eyes, - Or let me as a heart-burst, screaming hare - Be wrenched in two by slavering deaths for sport; - But let me not again be cursed a woman - Surrendered to the mercy of her man! - - _She sinks down in a crouching heap by the hearth. There has - been a sound of many voices drawing nearer, and as she ceases - speaking, the words of a song become clear._ - - THE PLAYERS [_singing_]. Come with us to London, - Folly, come away! - We’ll make your fortune - On a summer day. - Leave your sloes and mulberries! - There are riper fruits than these, - In London, in London, - Oh, London Town! - For winds will blow - And barley grow - Without you, without you, - And the world get on without you-- - Oh, London Town! - - _The voices drop to a low hum_. HENSLOWE _thrusts his head in at - the window._ - - HENSLOWE. The sun’s down. The sky’s as yellow as a London fog. - Well, what’s it to be? - - SHAKESPEARE. London! The future in a golden fog! - - HENSLOWE. Come then! - - SHAKESPEARE. I’ll fetch my bundle. Wait for me! What voices? - - HENSLOWE. The rest of us, the people of the plays. - We’re all here waiting for you. - - SHAKESPEARE. Come in, all! all! - - HENSLOWE. Does your wife say to us--“Come in!”? - - SHAKESPEARE. What wife? - - _He hurries up the stairs and disappears._ - - HENSLOWE [_opening the outer door_]. - May we come in? - - ANNE. You heard him. - - HENSLOWE. We ask you. - - ANNE. It’s his house. - - HENSLOWE [_humming_]. While fortune waits - Within the gates - Of London, of London-- - He must be quick! - - ANNE. Am _I_ to tell him so? - - HENSLOWE. The new moon’s up and reaping in a sky - Like corn--that’s frost! A bitter travelling night - Before us-- - - ANNE [_going to the window_]. - So it is. - - HENSLOWE. Not through the glass! - You’ll buy ill luck of the moon. - - ANNE. I bought ill fortune - Long months ago under the shifty moon, - I saw her through the midnight glass of the air, - Milky with light, when trees my casement were, - And little twigs the leads that held my pane. - I’m out of luck for ever. - - HENSLOWE. Did I not tell you you feared your fortune? But there - are some in the company can tell you a better, if you’ll let ’em - in. - - THREE PLAYERS IN MASKS [_tapping at the window_]. - Let us in! Let us in! Let us in! - - ANNE. I will not let you in. Wait for your fellow - On the high road! He’ll come to you soon enough. - - _She turns from them and seats herself by the fire._ - - A PLAYER [_dressed as a king, over_ HENSLOWE’S _shoulder_]. Are - we never to come in? It’s as cold as charity since the sun set. - - ANNE. It’s no warmer here. - - A CHILD [_poking his head under the_ PLAYER’S _arm_]. I can’t - feel my fingers. [ANNE _looks at him. Her face changes._] - - ANNE. If the fire warms you, you may warm yourselves. - THE PLAYERS _stream in._ - It does not warm me. Look! It cannot warm me. - _She thrusts her hand into the flame._ - - HENSLOWE. God’s sake! - _He pulls her back._ THE PLAYERS - _stare and whisper together._ - - ANNE. Eyes! Needle eyes! Why do you stare and point? - Like you I would have warmed myself. Vain, vain! - It’s a strange hearth. You players are the first - It ever warmed or welcomed. Charity? - Who said it--“Cold as charity”? That’s love! - But there’s no love here. Baby, stay away! - You’ll freeze less out in churchyard night than here, - For here’s not even charity. - - THE CHILD [_warming his hands_]. I’m not a baby. I’m nearly - eleven. I’ve played children’s parts for years. I’m getting - warmer. Are you? - - ANNE. No. - - CHILD. I like this house. I’d like to stay here. I suppose there - are things in that cupboard? - - THE KING [_overhearing_]. Now, now! - - CHILD. That’s my father. He’s a king this week. He’s only a duke - as a rule. Are there apples in that cupboard? Will you give me - one? - - ANNE _goes to the cupboard and takes out an apple._ - - ANNE. Will you give me a kiss? - - CHILD. For my apple? - - ANNE. No, for love. - - CHILD. I don’t love you. - - ANNE. For luck, then. - - CHILD. You told him you’d got no luck. - - ANNE. Won’t you give me a kiss? - - CHILD. If you like. Don’t hold me so tight. Is it true you’ve no - luck? Shall I tell your fortune? - - ANNE. Can you? - - CHILD. O yes! I’ve watched the Fates do it in the new play. It’s - Orpheus and--it’s a long name. But she’s his lost wife. Give me - a handkerchief! That’s for a grey veil. [_Posing._] Now say to - me--“Who are you?” - - ANNE. Who are you? - - CHILD [_posing_]. Fate! Now you must say--“Whose fate?” - - ANNE. Whose? - - CHILD. Oh, then I lift the veil and you scream. [_Stamping his - foot._] Scream! - - ANNE. Why, baby? - - CHILD [_frowning_]. At my dreadful face. [_But he begins to - laugh in spite of himself._] - - ANNE [_her face hidden_]. Oh, child! Oh, child! - - CHILD. That’s right! That’s the way she cries in the play. You - see the man goes down to hell to find his wife, and the Fates - show her what’s going to happen while she’s waiting for him. - She’s in hell already, waiting and waiting. It takes years to - travel through hell. That’s her talking to the old man in rags - and a crown. - - ANNE. Who’s he? - - CHILD. Oh, he’s a poor old king whose daughters beat him. He - isn’t in this play. Well, when Orpheus gets to hell--I lead him - there, you know-- - - ANNE. A babe in hell--a babe in hell-- - - CHILD. I’m the little god of love. I wear a crown of roses and - wings. They do tickle. Soon I’ll be too big. So he and I go to - the three Fates to get back his wife. She isn’t pretty in that - act. She’s all white and dead round her eyes--like you. - - ANNE. Does he find her? - - CHILD. After he sings his beautiful song he does. Everybody has - to listen when he sings. Even the big dog lies down. Your husband - made us a nice catch about it yesterday. I like your husband. I’m - glad he’s coming with us. Are you coming with us? - - ANNE. No. - - CHILD. It’s a pity. If you were a man you could act in the - company. But women can’t act. Even Orpheus’ wife is a boy really. - So are the three Fates. They’re friends of mine. Would you like - to talk to them, the way we do in the play? Come on! I go first, - you see. You must say just what I tell you. - - _He takes her hands and pulls her to her feet. - She stares, bewildered, for the room has grown - dim. The dying fire shines upon the shifting, - shadowy figures of the_ PLAYERS. _The crowd grows - larger every moment and is thickest at the foot - of the stairs_. SHAKESPEARE _is seen coming down - them_. - - ANNE. The room’s so full. I’m frightened. Who are all these - people? - - CHILD. Hush! We’re in hell. These are all the dead people. We - bring ’em to life. - - ANNE. Who? We? - - CHILD. I and the singer. Look, there’s your husband coming down - the stairs! That’s just the way Orpheus comes down into hell. - - ANNE. Will! Will! - - CHILD. Hush! You mustn’t talk. - - ANNE. But it’s all dreams--it’s all dreams. - - CHILD. It’s the players. - - SHAKESPEARE [_among the shadows_]. - Let me pass! - - THE SHADOWS. Pay toll! - - SHAKESPEARE. How, pay it? - - A SHADOW. Tell my story? - - ANOTHER. And mine! - - ANOTHER. And mine! - - ANOTHER. And mine! - - A ROMAN WOMAN. Pluck back my dagger first and tell my story! - - A DROWNED GIRL. Oh, listen, listen, listen, I’ve forgotten my own - story. It’s a very sad one. Remember for me! - - SHAKESPEARE. I will remember. Let me pass! - - A TROJAN WOMAN [_kissing him_]. Here’s pay! - - A VENETIAN. I died of love. - - THE TROJAN WOMAN. Kiss me and tell my story! - - A MOOR. Dead lips, dead lips! - - A YOUNG MAN. This is how Judas kissed. - - A QUEEN. My son was taken from me. Tell my story! - - ANOTHER. And mine! - - ANOTHER. And mine! - - A YOUNG MAN. That son am I! - - TWO CHILDREN. I--I-- - - A SOLDIER. I killed a king. - - A CROWNED SHADOW. He killed me while I slept. - - THE SHADOWS. You shall not pass until you tell our story! - - A GIRL DRESSED AS A BOY. I lived in a wood and laughed. - Sing you my laughter - When the sun shone! - - SHAKESPEARE. I’ll sing it. Singing I go, - What shall I find after the song is over? - What shall I find after the way is clear? - - AN OLD MAN, A JEW. Gold and gold and gold-- - - A CLOWN. And a grave untended-- - - A MAN IN BLACK. Heartbreak-- - - TWO COUSINS. A friend or two-- - - A ROMAN WITH LAURELS. Oh, sing my story - Before I had half-way climbed to the nearest star - My ladder broke. - - SHAKESPEARE. I’ll tell all time that story. - - THE ROMAN. The stars are dark, seen close. - - SHAKESPEARE. I’ll say it. - - THE ROMAN. Pass! - - AN EGYPTIAN [_holding a goblet_]. - He shall not pass. Drink! There are pearls in the cup. - - A GIRL, A VERONESE [_taking it from her_]. - No--sleep! - - A MAN [_with a wand_]. Dreams! - - THE KING IN RAGS. Frenzy! - - A NUN. Sacrament! - - A DRUNKARD. A jest! - - A ROMAN WIFE. Here’s coals for bread. - - THE EGYPTIAN [_A man in armour has flung his arm about her neck_]. - Eat, drink and pass again - To the lost sunshine and the passionate nights, - And tell the world our story! - - SHAKESPEARE. Let me go! - - ALL THE SHADOWS. Never, never, never! To the end of time we - follow, - Follow, follow, follow! - - SHAKESPEARE. Threads and floating wisps - Of being, how they fasten like a cloud - Of gnats upon me, not to be shaken off - Unsatisfied-- - - THE SHADOWS. Sing! Sing! - - _There is a strain of music: the crowd hides_ SHAKESPEARE: _the - three masked players have drifted free of the turmoil._ - - CHILD [_delighted_]. He does it quite as well as Orpheus. - - ANNE. Who are these dreams? - - CHILD. The people of the plays. And there are the Fates at last! - That’s the end of my part. Now you must talk to them till your - husband comes. He comes when you scream. - - _He picks up his bow and runs away._ - - ANNE. Come back! Stay by me! - - CHILD [_laughing_]. Play your part alone. - - _He is lost in the crowd_. THE MASKS _have drawn - near. The first is small and closely veiled and - carries the distaff. The second is tall: part - of her face shows white: her hands are empty. - The third is bowed and crowned: she carries the - shears._ - -ANNE. These are all dreams or I am mad. Who are you? - -FIRST MASK. His fate. I hold the thread. - - ANNE. I’ll see you! - - FIRST MASK. No! - - _As she retreats the_ SECOND MASK _takes the - distaff from her._ - - SECOND MASK. I tangle it. - - ANNE. Who are you? - - SECOND MASK. Fate! his fate! - - ANNE. Drop the bright mask and let me see! - - _The_ SECOND MASK _drops her veil and_ - _shows the face of a dark lady._ - It needs not! - I knew, I knew! Barren the ground beneath, - No flowers, no fruit, spent arrows-- - _The_ SECOND MASK _makes way for the_ - THIRD _who takes the tangle from her. The_ - SECOND MASK _glides away._ - Not the shears! - THIRD MASK [_winding the thread_]. - Not yet! - - ANNE. Who are you? - - THIRD MASK. Fate! his fate! - - ANNE. A crown! - My snake should know its fellow--is it so? - _The mask is lifted and reveals the face of_ ELIZABETH. - I do not fear the Queen-- - - THIRD MASK. Take back the thread! - _She gives the distaff to the_ FIRST MASK _who_ - _has reappeared beside her and glides away._ - - ANNE. But you I fear, O shrinking fate! what fate? - What first and last fate? Show me your face, I say! - _She tears off the mask. The face revealed_ - _is the face of_ ANNE. _She screams._ - Myself! I saw myself! Will! Will! - - THE CHILD. _kneeling at the hearth stirs the fire - and a bright flame shoots up that lights the - whole room. It is empty save for the few players - gathering together their bundles and_ SHAKESPEARE - _who has hurried to_ ANNE. _His hand, gripping - her shoulder, steadies her as she sways._ - - SHAKESPEARE. Still railing? - - CHILD [_to his father_].She’s a poor frightened lady and she - cried. I like her. - - ANNE. Gone! Gone! Where are they? Call them back! I saw-- - - SHAKESPEARE. What folly! These are players and my friends; - You could have given them food at least and served them. - - ANNE. I saw--I saw-- - - HENSLOWE [_coming up to them_]. So, are you ready? The moon is - high: we must be going. - - SHAKESPEARE. I’ll follow instantly. - - THE PLAYERS _trail out by twos and threes. They - pass the window and repass it on the further side - of the hedge. They are a black, fantastic frieze, - upon the yellow, winter sky._ HENSLOWE _goes - first: the king’s crown is crooked, and the child - is riding on his back: the masks come last._ - - THE PLAYERS [_singing_]. - Come away to London, - Folly, come away! - You’ll make your fortune - Thrice in a day. - Paddocks leave and winter byres, - London has a thousand spires, - A-chiming, a-rhyming, - Oh, London Town! - The snow will fall - And cover all - Without you, without you, - And the world get on without you-- - Oh, London Town! - SHAKESPEARE _goes hurriedly to the table_ - _and picks up his books._ - - ANNE. Will! - - SHAKESPEARE. For your needs - You have the farm. Farewell! - - ANNE [_catching at his arm_] For pity’s sake! - I’m so beset with terrors not my own-- - What have you loosed upon me? I’ll not be left - In this black house, this kennel of chained grief, - This ghost-run. Take me with you! No, stay by me! - These are but dreams of evil. Shall we not wake - Drowsily in a minute? Oh, bless’d waking - To peace and sunshine and no evil done! - Count out the minute-- - - SHAKESPEARE. If ever I forget - The evil done me, I’ll forget the spring, - And Avon, and the blue ways of the sky, - And my own mother’s face. - - ANNE. Do I say “forget”? - I say “remember”! When you’ve staked all, all, - Upon your one throw--when you’ve lost--remember! - And done the evilest thing you would not do, - Self-forced to the vile wrong you would not do, - Me in that hour remember! - - SHAKESPEARE. Let me go! - - ANNE [_she is on the ground, clinging to him_]. - Remember! See, I do not pray “forgive”! - Forgive? Forgiving is forgetting--no, - Remember me! Remember, when your sun - Blazes the noon down, that my sun is set, - Extinct and cindered in a bitter sea, - And warm me with a thought. For we are bound - Closer than love or chains or marriage binds: - We went by night and each in other’s heart - Sowed tares, sowed tears. Husband, when harvest comes, - Of all your men and women I alone - Can give you comfort, for you’ll reap my pain - As I your loss. What other knows our need? - Dear hands, remember, when you hold her, thus, - Close, close-- - - SHAKESPEARE. Let go my hands! - - ANNE. --and when she turns - To stone, to a stone, to an unvouchsafing stone - Under your clutch-- - - SHAKESPEARE. You rave! - - ANNE. --loved hands, remember - Me unloved then, and how my hands held you! - And when her face--for I am prophecy-- - When her lost face, the woman I am not, - Stares from the page you toil upon, thus, thus, - In a glass of tears, remember then that thus, - No other way, - I see your face between my work and me, - Always! - - SHAKESPEARE. Make end and let me go! - - ANNE [_she has risen_]. Why, go! - But mock me not with any “Let me go”! - I do not hold you. Ah, but when you’re old - (You will be old one day, as I am old - Already in my heart), too weary-old - For love, hate, pity, anything but peace, - When the long race, O straining breast! is won, - And the bright victory drops to your outstretched hand, - A windfall apple, not worth eating, then - Come back to me-- - - SHAKESPEARE [_at the door_]. Farewell! - - ANNE. --when all your need - Is hands to serve you and a breast to die on, - Come back to me-- - - SHAKESPEARE. Never in any world! - - _He goes out as the last figure passes the window, - and disappears._ - - THE PLAYERS’ VOICES [_dying away_]. - For snow will fall - And cover all - Without you, without you-- - _The words are lost._ - - SHAKESPEARE [_joyfully._] Ah! London Town - - _He is seen an instant, a silhouette with - outstretched arms. Then he, too, disappears and - there is a long silence. A cold wind blows in - through the open door. The room is quite dark and - the fire has fallen to ashes._ - - ANNE [_crying out suddenly_]. The years--the years before me! - - MRS. HATHAWAY [_calling_]. Anne! Where’s Anne? - _She comes in at the side door._ - Anne! Anne! Where are you? Why, what do you here, - In the cold, in the dark, and all alone? - - ANNE. I wait. - - THE CURTAIN FALLS. - - - - -ACT II. - -SCENE I. - - - _A room at the Palace_. ELIZABETH _sits at a working - table. She is upright, vigorous, with an ivory - white skin and piercing eyes. Her hair is dark - red and stiffly dressed. She is old, as an oak - or a cliff or a cathedral is old--there is no - frailty of age in her. Her gestures are measured, - she moves very little, and frowns oftener than - she smiles, but her smile, when it does come, - is kindly. Her voice is strong, rather harsh, - but clear. She speaks her words like a scholar, - but her manner is that of a woman of the world, - shrewd and easy. Her dress is a black-green - brocade, stiff with gold and embroidered with - coloured stones. Beside her stands_ HENSLOWE, - _ten years older, stouter and more prosperous. - In the background_ MARY FITTON, _a woman of - twenty-six, sits at the virginals, fingering - out a tune very faintly and lightly. She is - taller than_ ELIZABETH, _pale, with black hair, - a smiling mouth and brilliant eyes. She is - quick and graceful as a cat, and her voice is - the voice of a singer, low and full. She wears - a magnificent black and white dress with many - pearls. A red rose is tucked behind her ear._ - - ELIZABETH. Money, money! Always more money! Henslowe, you’re a - leech! And I’m a Gammer Gurton to let myself be bled. Let the - public pay! - - HENSLOWE. Madam, they’ll do that fast enough if we may call - ourselves Your Majesty’s Players. - - ELIZABETH. No, no, you’re not yet proven. What do you give me? - Good plays enough, but what great play? What has England, what - have I, to match against them when they talk to me of their - Tasso, their Petrarch, their Rabelais--of Divine Comedies and the - plays of Spain? Are we to climb no higher than the Germans with - their ‘Ship of Fools’? - - HENSLOWE. ‘The Faery Queen’? - - ELIZABETH. Unfinished. - - HENSLOWE. Green--Peele--Kyd--Webster-- - - ELIZABETH. Stout English names--not names for all the world. I - will pay you no more good English pounds a year and fib to my - treasurer to account for them. You head a deputation, do you? You - would call yourselves the Queen’s Players, and mount a crown on - your curtains? Give me a great play then--a royal play--a play - to set against France and Italy and Spain, and you can have your - patent. - - HENSLOWE. There’s ‘Tamburlaine’! - - ELIZABETH. A boy’s glory, not a man’s. - - HENSLOWE. ‘Faust’ and ‘The Jew of Malta’! - - ELIZABETH. I know them. - - HENSLOWE. He’ll do greater things yet. - - ELIZABETH. Do you believe that, Henslowe? - - HENSLOWE. No, Madam. - - ELIZABETH. Then why do you lie to me? - - HENSLOWE. Madam, I mark time. I have my man; but he is not yet - ripe. - - ELIZABETH. How long have you served me, Henslowe? - - HENSLOWE. Twelve years. - - ELIZABETH. How often have you come to me in those twelve years? - - HENSLOWE. Four times, Madam! - - ELIZABETH. Have I helped or hindered? - - HENSLOWE. I confess it, Madam, I have lived on your wits. - - ELIZABETH. Then who’s your man? - - HENSLOWE. You’ll not trust me. He has done little before the - world. - - ELIZABETH. Shakespeare? - - HENSLOWE. Madam, you know everything. Will you see him? He and - Marlowe are among our petitioners. - - ELIZABETH. H’m! the Stratford boy! I have not forgotten. - - HENSLOWE. Who could have promised better? He came to town like a - conqueror. He took us all with his laughter. You yourself, Madam-- - - ELIZABETH. Yes, make us laugh and you may pick all pockets! He - helped you to pick mine. - - HENSLOWE. So far good. But he aims no higher. Yet what he could - do if he would! I have a sort of love of him, Madam. I found him: - I taught him: I have daughters enough but no son. I have wrestled - with him like Jacob at Peniel, but when I think to conquer he - tickles my rib and I laugh. That’s his weapon, Madam! With his - laughter he locks the door of his heart against every man. - - ELIZABETH. And every woman? - - HENSLOWE. They say--no, Madam! - - ELIZABETH. Then we must find her. - - HENSLOWE [_with a glance at_ MARY FITTON]. They say she is found - already. But a court lady--and a player! It’s folly, Madam! - Now Marlowe would shrug his shoulder and go elsewhere; but - Shakespeare--there is about him in little and great a certain - dogged and damnable constancy that wrecks all. If he cannot have - the moon for his supper, he will starve, Madam, whatever an old - fool says to him. - - ELIZABETH. Then, Henslowe, we must serve him up the moon. Mary! - - MARY [_rising and coming down to them_]. Madam? - - ELIZABETH. Could you hear us? - - MARY. I was playing the new song that the Earl set for you. - - ELIZABETH. For me? But you heard? - - MARY. Something of the talk, Madam! - - ELIZABETH. You go to all the plays, do you not? Which is the - coming man, Mary, Shakespeare or Marlowe. - - MARY. If you ask me, Madam, I’m all for the cobbler’s son. - - HENSLOWE. Mistress Fitton should give us a sound reason if she - have it, but she has none. - - MARY. Only that I don’t know Mr. Marlowe, and I know my little - Shakespeare by heart. I’m an Athenian--I’m always asking for new - tunes. - - ELIZABETH. Which is Shakespeare? The youngster like a smoking - lamp, all aflare? - - MARY. No, Madam! That’s Marlowe. Shakespeare’s a lesser man. - - HENSLOWE. A lesser man? Marlowe the lamp, say you? - He’s conflagration, he’s “Armada!” flashed - From Kent to Cornwall! But this lesser man, - He’s the far world the beacons can out flare - One little hour, but, when their flame dies down, - High o’er the embers in the deep of night - Behold the star! - - ELIZABETH. I forget if ever I saw him. - - HENSLOWE. Madam, if ever you saw him, you would not forget-- - A small, a proud head, like an Arab Christ, - And noble, madman’s fingers, never still-- - The face still though, mouth hid, the nostril wide, - And eyes like voices calling, shrill and sad, - Borne on hot winds from fairyland or hell; - Yet round the heavy lids a score of lines - All criss-cross crinkle like a score of laughs - That he has scribbled hastily down himself - With his quick fingers. No, not tall-- - - ELIZABETH. But a man! - - MARY. Like other men. - - ELIZABETH. Ah? - - MARY. It was easy. - - ELIZABETH. Tell! - - MARY. He came like a boy to apples. Marlowe now-- - - ELIZABETH. More than a man, less than a man, but not - As yet a man then? Well, I’ll see your Shakespeare: - Marlowe--some other time. - - HENSLOWE. I’ll fetch him to you. - - HENSLOWE _goes out._ - - ELIZABETH. To you, Mary--to you! - - MARY. O Madam, spare me! It’s a stiff instrument and once, I - think, has been ill-tuned. - - ELIZABETH. Tune it afresh! - - MARY. You wish that, Madam? - - ELIZABETH. I wish it. Marlowe can wait--and Pembroke. - - MARY. Madam? - - ELIZABETH. I am blind, deaf, dumb, so long as you practise your - new tune. But the Earl of Pembroke goes to Ireland. - - MARY. He’s an old glove, Madam. - - ELIZABETH. Young or old, not for your wearing. Strip your hand - and finger your new tune! - - MARY. Now, Madam? - - ELIZABETH. Why not? Why do I dress you and keep you at court? - Here’s Spain in the ante-room and France on the stairs--am I to - keep them waiting while I humour a parcel of players? - - MARY. Indeed, Madam, I wonder that you have spared half an hour. - - ELIZABETH. Wonder, Mary! Wonder! And when you know why I do - what I do you shall be Queen instead of me. In the meantime you - may learn the trade, if you choose. I give you a kingdom to rule - in the likeness of a poor player. Let me see how you do it! Yet - mark this--though with fair cheeks and black hair you may come - by a coronet (but the Earl goes to Ireland) yet if you rule your - kingdom by the glance of your eyes, you will lose it as other - Maries have done. - - MARY. I must reign in my own way--forgive me, Madam!--not yours. - - ELIZABETH. Girl, do you think you could ever rule in mine? Well, - try your way! But--between queens, Mary--one kingdom at a time! - - ELIZABETH _goes out._ - - MARY [_she sits on the table edge, swinging her pretty foot_]. - So Pembroke goes to Ireland! Ay, and comes back, old winter! I - can wait. And while I wait--Shakespeare! Will Shakespeare! O - charity--I wish it were Marlowe! What did the old woman say? - A kingdom in the likeness of a player. I wonder. Well, we’ll - explore. Yet I wish it were Marlowe. [SHAKESPEARE _enters._] - Ah! here comes poor Mr. Shakespeare looking for the Queen and - finding-- - - SHAKESPEARE. The Queen! - - MARY. Hush! Palace walls! Well, Mr. Shakespeare, what’s the news? - - SHAKESPEARE. Good, bad and indifferent. - - MARY. Take the bad first. - - SHAKESPEARE. The bad?--that I have not seen you some five weeks! - The good--that I have now seen you some five seconds! The - indifferent--that you do not care one pin whether I see you or - not for the next five years! - - MARY. Who told you that, Solomon? - - SHAKESPEARE. I have had no answer to-- - - MARY. Five letters, seven sonnets, two catches and a roundelay! - - SHAKESPEARE. Love’s Labour Lost! - - MARY. Ah, Mr. Shakespeare, you were not a Solomon then! There was - too much Rosaline and too little Queen in that labour. - - SHAKESPEARE. You’re right! Solomon would have drawn all Rosaline - and no Queen at all. I’ll write another play! - - MARY. It might pay you better than your sonnets. - - SHAKESPEARE. Do you read them--Rosaline? - - MARY. Most carefully, Mr. Shakespeare--on Saturday nights! Then I - make up my accounts and empty my purse, and wonder--must I pawn - my jewels? Then I cry. And then I read your latest sonnet and - laugh again. - - SHAKESPEARE. You should not laugh. - - MARY. Why, is it not meant to move me? - - SHAKESPEARE. You should not laugh. I tell you such a thought, - Such fiery lava welling from a heart, - So crystalled in the wonder-working brain, - Mined by the soul and rough-cut into words - Fit for a poet’s faceting and, last, - Strung on a string of gold by a golden tongue-- - Why, such a thought is an immortal jewel - To gild you, living, in men’s eyes, and after - To make you queen of all the unjewelled dead - Who bear not their least bracelet hence. For I, - Eternally I’d deck you, were you my own, - Would you but wear my necklaces divine, - My rings of sorcery, my crowns of song. - What chains of emeralds--did you but know! - My rubies, O my rubies--could you but see! - And this one gem of wonder, pearl of pearls, - Hid in my heart for you, could you but take, - Would you but take-- - - MARY. Open your heart! - - SHAKESPEARE. Not so. - The god who made it hath forgot the key, - Or lost or lent it. - - MARY. Heartless god! Poor heart! - Yet if this key--(is there indeed a key?) - - SHAKESPEARE. No lock without a key, nor heart, nor heart. - - MARY. --were found one day and strung with other keys - Upon my ring? - - SHAKESPEARE. With other--? - - MARY. Keys of hearts! - What else? - Tucked in the casket where my mortals lie-- - Sick pearl, flawed emerald, brooch or coronet-- - - SHAKESPEARE. God! - - MARY. Why, Jeweller? - - SHAKESPEARE. Then what they say-- - - MARY. They say? - What do they say? And what care I? They say Pembroke? - - SHAKESPEARE. They lie! You shall not speak. They lie! - - MARY. So little doubt--and you a man! It’s new. - It’s sweet. It will not last. We spoke of keys-- - This heart-key, had I found it, would you buy? - Come, tempt me with immortal necklaces! - Come, purchase me with ornaments divine! - - SHAKESPEARE. I love you-- - - MARY. Well? - - SHAKESPEARE. I love you-- - - MARY. Is that all? - - SHAKESPEARE. I love you so. - - MARY. Why, that’s a common cry, - I hear it daily, like the London cries, - “Old chairs to mend!” or “Sweet, sweet lavender!” - Is this your string of pearls, sixteen a penny? - - SHAKESPEARE. D’you laugh at me? I mean it. - - MARY. So do they all. - Buy! Buy my lavender! Lady, it’s cheap-- - It’s sweet--new cut--I starve--for Christ’s sake, buy! - They mean it, all the hoarse-throat, hungry men - That sell me lavender, that sell me love. - - SHAKESPEARE. I put my wares away. I do not sell. - - MARY. O pedlar! I had half a mind to buy. - - SHAKESPEARE. Too late. - - MARY. Open your pack again! What haste! - What--not a trinket left me, not a pin - For a poor lady? Does not the offer hold? - - SHAKESPEARE. You did not close. - - MARY. I will. - - SHAKESPEARE. Withdrawn! Withdrawn! - - MARY. Renew! - - SHAKESPEARE. Too late. - - MARY. You know your business best; - Yet--what care I? - - SHAKESPEARE. Or I? Yet--never again - To buy and sell with you! - - MARY. Never again. - Heigh-ho! I sighed, sir. - - SHAKESPEARE. Yes, I heard you sigh. - - MARY. And smiled. At court, sir-- - - SHAKESPEARE. Yes, they buy and sell - At court. But I know better--give and take! - - MARY [_evading him_]. - What will you give me if I let you take? - - SHAKESPEARE. If you will come with me into my mind-- - How shall I say it? Still you’ll laugh at me! - - MARY. Maybe! - - SHAKESPEARE. My mind’s not one room stored, but many, - A house of windows that o’erlook far gardens, - The hanging gardens of more Babylons - Than there are bees in a linden tree in June. - I’m the king-prisoner in his capital, - Ruling strange peoples of a world unknown, - Yet there come envoys from the untravelled lands - That fill my corridors with miracles - As it were tribute, secretly, by night; - And I wake in the dawn like Solomon, - To stare at peacocks, apes and ivory, - And a closed door. - And all these stores I give you for your own, - You shall be mistress of my fairy-lands, - I’ll ride you round the world on the back of a dream, - I’ll give you all the stars that ever danced - In the sea o’ nights, - If you will come into my mind with me, - If you will learn me--know me. - - MARY. I do know you. - You are the quizzical Mr. Shakespeare of the ‘Rose,’ who never - means a word he says. I’ve heard of you. All trades hate you - because you are not of their union, and yet know the tricks - of each trade; but your own trade loves you, because you are - content with a crook in the lower branches when you might be top - of the tree. You write comedies, all wit and no wisdom, like a - flower-bed raked but not dug; but the high stuff of the others, - their tragedies and lamentable ends, these you will not essay. - Why not, Mr. Shakespeare of the fairy-lands? - - SHAKESPEARE. Queen Wasp, I do not know. - - MARY. King Drone, then I will tell you. You are the little boy - at Christmas who would not play snap-dragon till the flames - died down, and so was left at the end with a cold raisin in an - empty dish. That’s you, that’s you, with the careful fingers and - no good word in your plays for any woman. Run home, run home, - there’s no more to you! - - SHAKESPEARE. D’you think so? - - MARY. I think that I think so. - - SHAKESPEARE. I’ll show you. - - MARY. What will you show me, Will? - - SHAKESPEARE. Fairyland, and you and me in it. Will you believe in - me then? - - MARY. Not I, not I! I’m a woman of this world. Give me flesh and - blood, not gossamer, - Honey and heart-ache, and a lovers’ moon. - - SHAKESPEARE. I read of lovers once in Italy-- - She was like you, such eyes of night, such hair. - God took a week to make his world, but these - In four short days made heaven to burn on earth - Like a great torch; and when they died-- - - MARY. They died? - - SHAKESPEARE. Like torches quenched in water, suddenly, - Because they loved too well. - - MARY. Oh, write it down! - Ah, could you, Will? I think you could not write it. - - SHAKESPEARE. I can write Romeo. Teach me Juliet! - - MARY. I could if I would. Was that her name--Juliet? - - SHAKESPEARE. Poor Juliet! - - - MARY. Not so poor if I know her. Oh, make that plain--she was not - poor! And tell them, Will, tell all men and women-- - - SHAKESPEARE. What, my heart? - - MARY. I will whisper it to you one day when I know you better. - Oh, it’ll be a play! Will you do it for me, Will? Will you write - it for you and for me? Where do they live? - - SHAKESPEARE. Verona. Italy. - - MARY. Come to me daily! Read it to me scene by scene, line by - line! How many acts? - - SHAKESPEARE. The old five-branched candlestick. - - MARY. But a new flame! Will it take long to write? - It must not. - - SHAKESPEARE. Shall not. - - MARY. What shall we call it, Will? - The Tragical Discourse? The Famous End? - The Lovers of Verona? - - SHAKESPEARE. No, no! Plain. - Their two names married--Romeo and Juliet. - - _As they lean towards each other still talking_ - - THE CURTAIN FALLS. - - -ACT II. - -SCENE II. - - _The first performance of Romeo and Juliet: the end - of the fourth act. The curtain rises on a small - bare dusty office, littered with stage properties - and dresses. When the door at the back of the - stage is open there is a glimpse of passage and - curtains, and moving figures, with now and then - a flare of torchlight. There is a continuous - far-away murmur of voices and, once in a while, - applause. As the curtain goes up_ MARY FITTON _is - opening the door to go out_. SHAKESPEARE _holds - her back_. - - - MARY. Let go! Let me go! I must be in front at the end of that - act. I must hear what the Queen will say to it. - - SHAKESPEARE. But you’ll come back? - - MARY. That depends on what the Queen says. I’ve promised you - nothing if she damns it. - - _The applause breaks out again._ - - SHAKESPEARE. Listen! Is it damned? - - MARY. Sugar-sweet, isn’t it? But that’s nothing. That’s the mob. - That’s your friends. They’ll clap you. But the Queen, if she - claps, claps your play. - - SHAKESPEARE. Your play! - - MARY. Is it mine? Earnest? - - SHAKESPEARE. My earnest, but your play. - - MARY. Well, good luck to my play! - - SHAKESPEARE. Give me-- - - MARY. Oh, so it’s not a free gift? - - SHAKESPEARE. Give me a finger-tip of thanks! - - MARY. In advance? Not I! But if the Queen likes it--I’m her - obedient servant. If the Queen opens her hand I shan’t shut mine. - Where she claps once I’ll clap twice. Where she gives you a hand - to kiss, I’ll give you--There! Curtain’s down! I must go. - - SHAKESPEARE. Mary! - - MARY. Listen to it! Listen! Listen! This is better than any poor - Mary. - - _She goes out. The door is left open. The applause breaks out again._ - - SHAKESPEARE. Is this the golden apple in my hand - At last? - How tastes it, heart, and is it sweet, is it sweet? - Sweeter than common apples? So many years - Of days I watched it grow and propped and pruned, - Besought the sun and watered. O my tree - When the green broke! That was a morning hour. - Fool, so to long for fruit! Now the fruit’s ripe. - The tree in spring was fairest, when it flowered, - And every petal held a drink of dew. - The bloom went long ago. Well, the fruit’s here! - Hark! - _The applause breaks out again._ - It goes well. Eat up your apple, man! - This is the hour, the hour! I’m the same man-- - No better for it. When Marlowe praised me so - He meant it--meant it. I thought he laughed at me - In his sleeve. Will Shakespeare! Romeo and Juliet! - I made it--I! Indeed, indeed, at heart-- - (I would not for the world they read my heart: - I’d scarce tell Mary) but indeed, at heart, - I know no song was ever sung before - Like this my lovely song. _I_ made it--I! - It has not changed me. I’m the same small man, - And yet I made it! Strange! [_A knock._] - - STAGE HAND [_putting in his head at the door_]. You’ll not see - anyone, sir, will you? - - SHAKESPEARE. I told you already I’ll come to the green-room when - the show’s over. I can see no stranger before. - - STAGE HAND. So I’ve told her, sir, many times. But she says you - will know her when you see her and she can’t wait. - - SHAKESPEARE. A lady? - - STAGE HAND. No, no, sir, just a woman. I’ll tell her to go away - again. - - SHAKESPEARE. Wait! Did she give no name? - - STAGE HAND. Name of Hathaway, sir, from Stratford. - - SHAKESPEARE. Anne! Bring her here! Bring her here quickly, - privately! You should have told me sooner. Where does she wait? - Did any see her? Did any speak with her? If anyone asks for me - save Henslowe or Mr. Marlowe, I am gone, I am not in the theatre. - What are you staring at? What are you waiting for? Bring her here! - - STAGE HAND. Glad to be rid of her, sir! She has sat in the - passage this hour to be tripped over, and nothing budges her. - [_Calling_] Will you come this way--this way! [_He disappears._] - - SHAKESPEARE. Anne? Anne in London? What does Anne in London? - - STAGE HAND [_returning_]. This way, this way! It’s a dark - passage. This way! - - MRS. HATHAWAY _comes in._ - - SHAKESPEARE. Not Anne! - - MRS. HATHAWAY. Is Mr. Shakespeare--? Will! Is it Will? Oh, how - you’re changed! - - SHAKESPEARE. Ten years change a young man. - - MRS. HATHAWAY. But not an old woman. I’m Anne’s mother still. - - SHAKESPEARE. I’m not so changed that I forget it. What do you - want of me, Mrs. Hathaway? - - MRS. HATHAWAY. I bring you news. - - SHAKESPEARE. Good news? - - MRS. HATHAWAY. It’s as you take it. - - SHAKESPEARE. Dead? - - MRS. HATHAWAY. Is that good news, my half son? She is not so - blessed. - - SHAKESPEARE. I did not say it so. Is she with you? - - MRS. HATHAWAY. No. - - SHAKESPEARE. Did she send you? Oh, so she has heard of this - business! It’s like her to send you now. She is to take her toll - of it, is she? - - MRS. HATHAWAY. You are bitter, you are bitter! You are the east - wind of your own spring sunshine. She has heard nothing of this - business or of that--dark lady. - - SHAKESPEARE. Take care! - - MRS. HATHAWAY. I saw her come from this room--off her guard. I - know how a woman looks when a man has pleased her. Oh, please her - if you must! I am old. I do not judge. And I think you will not - always. But that’s not my news. - - SHAKESPEARE. I can’t hear it now. I am pressed. This is not every - night. I’ll see you to-morrow, not now. - - MRS. HATHAWAY. My news may be dead to-morrow. - - SHAKESPEARE. So much the better. I needn’t hear it. - - MRS. HATHAWAY. Son, son, son! You don’t know what you say. - - SHAKESPEARE. That is not my name. And I know well what I say. - You are my wife’s mother and I’ll not share anything of hers. But - if she needs money, I’ll send it. To-night makes me a rich man. - - MRS. HATHAWAY. Richer than you think--and to-morrow poorer, if - you do not listen to me. - - _There is a roar of applause._ - - SHAKESPEARE. Listen to you? Why should I listen to you? Can you - give me anything to better that? - - MRS. HATHAWAY. But if she can? Sixty years I have learned lessons - in the world; but I never learned that a city was better than - green fields, friends better than a house-mate, or the works of a - man’s hand more to him than the child of his own flesh. - - SHAKESPEARE. And have I learned it, I? Do I not know - That when I left her I left all behind - That was my right? See how I live my life-- - Married nor single, neither bond nor free, - My future mortgaged for a roofless home! - For though I love I must not say “I love you, - Come to my hearth!” A child? I have no child: - I hear no voice crying to me o’ nights - Out of the frost-bound dark. How can it cry - Or smile at me until I give it lips? - How can it clutch me till I give it hands? - How can it be, until I give it leave? - Small sparrow at the window-pane, a’cold, - Begging your crumb of life from me, indeed - I cannot let you in. Small love, small sweet, - Look not so trustfully! You are not mine, - Not mine, not anyone’s. Away, unborn! - Back to the womb of dreams, and never stir, - Never again! How meek the small ghost fades, - Reject and fatherless, that might have been - My son! - - MRS. HATHAWAY. Is it possible? Anne knew you best. - She said you did not know. Dear son, too soon - By two last months, yet by these months too late. - After you left her, Hamnet, the boy, was born. - - SHAKESPEARE. It is not true! - - MRS. HATHAWAY. Ah, ah, she knew you best. - She said always, weeping she said always - You would not listen, though she sent you word; - But when the boy was grown she’d send the boy, - Then you would listen and come home, come home. - But now that web is tattered in its turn - By a cold wind, an out-of-season wind, - Tearing the silver webs, blacking the leaves - And shaking the first blossoms down too soon, - Too soon, too soon. He shivered and lay down - Among pinched violets and the wrack of spring; - But when the sky drew breath and April came, - And summer with tanned fingers, beckoning up - New flowers from the ground, still our flower drooped: - The sunlight hurt his eyes, his bed’s too hot, - He drinks and will not eat: since Saturday - There’s but one end. - - SHAKESPEARE. What end? - - MRS. HATHAWAY. You’re stubborn as she. - She will not bow to it. Yet she sent me hither - To bring you home. - - SHAKESPEARE. New witch-work! - - MRS. HATHAWAY. Will you not come? - - SHAKESPEARE. I will not. - - MRS. HATHAWAY. Will you not come? She bade me say - That the boy cries for you-- - - SHAKESPEARE. A lie! A gross lie! - He never called me father. - - MRS. HATHAWAY. That he does! - You are his Merlin and his Arthur too, - And God-Almighty Sundays. Thus it goes-- - “My Father says--” and “When my Father comes--” - “I’ll tell my Father!” To his mother’s hand - He clings and whispers in his fever now, - With bright eyes wide--your eyes, son, your quick eyes-- - That she shall fetch you (she? she cannot speak) - To bring him wonders home like Whittington, - (And where’s your cat?) and tell the tales you know - Of Puck and witches, and the English kings, - To whistle down the birds as Orpheus did, - And for a silver penny pick the moon - From the sky’s pocket, and buy him gingerbread-- - And so he rambles on, breaking her heart - A second time, God help her! - - SHAKESPEARE. I will come. - - A MAN’S VOICE [_off the stage_]. - Shakespeare! Will Shakespeare! Call Will Shakespeare! - - SHAKESPEARE [_to_ MRS. HATHAWAY]. Here! - When do we start? - - MRS. HATHAWAY. The horses wait at the inn. - - VOICE. Will Shakespeare! - - SHAKESPEARE. Give me an hour. The bridge is nearer. - On London Bridge at midnight! I’ll be there! - - MRS. HATHAWAY. Not later, I warn you, if you’d see the child - alive. - - SHAKESPEARE. Fear not, I’ll be there. D’you think so ill of me? I - could have been a good father to my own son--if I had known. If - I had known! This is a woman’s way of enduring a wrong. Oh, dumb - beast! Could she not send for me--send to me? Am I a monster that - she could not come to me? “Buy him gingerbread”! To send me no - word till he’s dying! Would any she-devil in hell do so to a man? - Dying? I tell you he shall live and not die. There was a man once - fought death for a friend and held him. Can I not fight death for - my own son? Can I not beat death off for an hour, for a little - hour, till I have kissed my only son? - - MARLOWE’S VOICE. Shakespeare! The Queen--the Queen has asked - for you, - And sent her woman twice. Will Shakespeare! - Will! - - SHAKESPEARE. At midnight then. - - MRS. HATHAWAY _goes out._ - - VOICE. Will Shakespeare! - - SHAKESPEARE. Coming! Coming! - - MARY [_in the doorway, followed by_ MARLOWE]. - Is Shakespeare--? - - SHAKESPEARE. Oh, not now, not now, not now! - - MARY. Are you mad to keep her waiting? She has favours up her - sleeve. You are to write her a play for the summer revels. Quick - now, ere the last act begins! Off with you! [SHAKESPEARE _goes - out._] Look how he drags away! What’s come to the man to fling - aside his luck? - - MARLOWE. He has left it behind him. - - MARY. Here’s a proxy silver-tongue! Are you Mr. Marlowe? - - MARLOWE. Are you Mistress Fitton? - - MARY. So we’ve heard of each other! - - MARLOWE. What have you heard of me? - - MARY. That you were somebody’s brother-in-art! What have you - heard of me? - - MARLOWE. That you were his sister-in-art. - - MARY. A man’s sister! I’d as soon be a cold pudding! What did he - say of his sister, brother? - - MARLOWE. That you brought him luck. - - MARY. That he leaves behind him! - - MARLOWE. Like the blind man’s lucky sixpence that the Jew stole - when he put a penny in his plate. - - MARY. A Jew of Malta? - - MARLOWE. What, do _you_ read me? You? - - A STAGE HAND [_in the passage_]. Last act, please! - Last act! Last act! - - MARY. I must go watch it. - - MARLOWE. Don’t you know it? - - MARY. Oh, by heart! Yet I must sisterly watch it. - - MARLOWE. Stay a little. - - MARY. Till he comes? Then I shall miss all, for he’ll keep me. - - MARLOWE. Against your will? - - MARY. No, with my Will. - - MARLOWE. Is it he or his plays? - - MARY. Not sure. - - MARLOWE. If I were he I’d make you sure. - - MARY. I wonder if you could! I wonder--how? - - MARLOWE. Too long to tell you here, and--curtain’s up! - - MARY. Come to my house one lazy day and tell me! - - MARLOWE. Hark! That’s more noise than curtain! - - HENSLOWE’S VOICE. Shakespeare! Shakespeare! [_Entering._] Here’s - a calamity! Where’s Shakespeare? He should be in the green-room! - Why does he tuck away in this rat-hole when he’s wanted? And - what’s to be done? Where in God’s name is Shakespeare? - - MARY. With the Queen. - - MARLOWE. The curtain’s up; he’ll be here in a minute. - - MARY. What’s wrong? - - HENSLOWE. Everything! Juliet! The clumsy beasts! They let him - fall from the bier: they let him fall on his arm! Now he’s - moaning and wincing and swears he can’t go on, though he has - but to speak his death scene. I’ve bid them cut the afterwards. - - MARLOWE. Broken? - - HENSLOWE. I fear so. - - MARY. Let it be broken! Say he must go on! - What? Spoil the play? These baby-men! - - HENSLOWE. He will not. - - MARLOWE. The understudy? - - HENSLOWE. Playing Paris. Where’s Shakespeare? What’s to be done? - The play’s spoiled. - - MARLOWE. He’ll break his heart. - - MARY. He shall not break his heart! - This is our play! Back to your Juliet-boy, - Strip off his wear and never heed his arm! - Bid them play on and bring me Juliet’s robes! - I’ll put them on and put on Juliet too. - Quick, Henslowe! - - HENSLOWE. What! a woman play on the stage? - - MARY. Ay, when the men fail! Quick! I say I’ll do it! - - SHAKESPEARE [_entering_]. - Here still? You’ve heard? - - MARY [_on the threshold_]. And heeded. Never stop me! - You shall have Juliet. You shall have your play. - - _She and_ HENSLOWE _hurry out._ - - MARLOWE. There goes a man’s master! But does she know the part? - - SHAKESPEARE. She knows each line, she knows each word, she - breathed them - Into my heart long ere I wrote them down. - - MARLOWE. But to act! Can you trust her? - - SHAKESPEARE. She? Go and watch! I need not. - - MARLOWE. But is it in her? She’s Julia not Juliet, not your young - Juliet, not your June morning--or is she? - - SHAKESPEARE. You talk! You talk! You talk! What do you know of - her? - - MARLOWE. Or you, old Will? - - SHAKESPEARE. I dream her. - - MARLOWE. Well, pleasant dreams! - - SHAKESPEARE. No more. I’m black awake. - - MARLOWE. What’s wrong? Ill news? - - SHAKESPEARE. From Stratford. Yes, yes, yes, Kit! And it must come - now, just now, after ten dumb years! - - MARLOWE. Stratford? Whew! I’d forgotten your nettle-bed. What - does she want of you? - - SHAKESPEARE. Hark! Mary’s on. - - MARLOWE. It’s a voice like the drip of a honey-comb. - - SHAKESPEARE. Can she play Juliet, man? Can she play Juliet? - I think she can. Kit? - - MARLOWE. Ay? - - SHAKESPEARE. Oh, is there peace - Anywhere, Kit, in any, any world? - - MARLOWE. What is it, peace? - - SHAKESPEARE. It passeth understanding. - They round the sermon off on Sunday with it, - Laugh in their sleeves and send us parching home. - This is a dew that dries ere Monday comes, - And oh, the heat of the seven days! - - MARLOWE. I like it! - The smell of dust, the shouting, and the glare - Of crowded noon in cities, and such nights - As this night, crowning labour. What is--peace? - - STAGE HAND [_entering_]. Sir, sir, sir, will you come down, sir, - says Mr. Henslowe. The end’s near and the house half mad. We’ve - not seen a night like this since--since _your_ night, sir! Your - first night, sir, your roaring Tamburlaine night! Never anything - like it and I’ve seen many. Will you come, sirs? - - SHAKESPEARE. You go, Marlowe! - - STAGE HAND. There’s nothing to fear, sir! It runs like clockwork. - The lady died well, sir! Lord, who’d think she was a woman! - There, there, it breaks out. Listen to ’em! Come, sir, come, come! - - MARLOWE. We’ll come! We’ll come! - - _The man goes out._ - - SHAKESPEARE. Not I! Oh, if you love me, Marlowe, swear I’m ill, - gone away, dead, what you please, but keep them away! I can stand - no more. - - MARLOWE. It’s as she said--mad--mad--to fling your luck away. - - SHAKESPEARE. A frost has touched me, Marlowe, my fruit’s black. - Help me now! Go, go! Say I’m gone, as I shall be when I’ve seen - Mary-- - - MARLOWE. A back stairs? Now I understand. - - SHAKESPEARE. Oh, stop your laughter! I’m to leave London in half - an hour. - - MARLOWE. Earnest? For long? - - SHAKESPEARE. Little or long, what matter? I’ve missed the moment. - Who has his moment twice? - - MARLOWE. Shall you tell her why you go? - - SHAKESPEARE. Mary? God forbid! - - VOICES. Shakespeare! Call Shakespeare! - - SHAKESPEARE. D’you hear them? Help me! Say I am gone! Oh, go, go! - - MARLOWE. Well, if you wish it! - - _He goes out leaving the door ajar. As_ SHAKESPEARE _goes on - speaking the murmurs and claps die away and the noises of the - stage are heard, the shouts of the scene-shifters, directions - being given, and so on. Finally there is silence._ - - SHAKESPEARE. Wish it? I wish it? Have you no more for me - Of comfort, Marlowe? - Oh, what a dumb and measureless gulf divides - Star from twin star, and friend from closest friend! - Women, they say, can bridge it when they will: - As seamen rope a ship with grappling irons - These spinners of strong cords invisible - Make fast and draw the drifting glory home - In the name of love. I know not. Better go! - I am not for this harbour-- - - _There is a sound of hasty footsteps and_ MARY FITTON _enters - in Juliet’s robes. She stands in the doorway, panting, exalted, - with arms outstretched. The door swings to behind her, shutting - out all sound._ - - MARY. Oh, I faced - The peacock of the world, the arch of eyes - That watched me love a god, the eyes, eyes, eyes, - That watched me die of love. Wake me again, - O soul that did inhabit me, O husband - Whose mind I uttered, to whose will I swayed, - Whose self of love I was! Wake me again - To die of love in earnest! - - SHAKESPEARE. Mary! Mary! - - MARY. I cannot ride this hurricane. I spin - Like a leaf in the air. Die down and let me lie - Close to the earth I am! O stir me not - With rosy breathings from the south, the south - Of sun and wine and peaks that flame to God - Suddenly in the dark! O wind, let be - And drive me not; for speech lies on my lips - Like a strange finger hushing back my soul - With words not mine, and thoughts not mine arise - Like marsh-flame dancing! As a leaf to a tree - Upblown, O wind that whirls me, I return. - Master and quickener, give me love indeed! - - SHAKESPEARE. These are the hands I never held till now: - These are the lips I never felt on mine: - This is the hour I dreamed of, many an hour: - This is the spirit awake. God in your sky, - Did your heart beat so on the seventh dawn? - - MARY. ’Ware thunder! - - SHAKESPEARE. Sweet, He envies and is dumb, - Dumb as His dark. He was our audience. - Now to His blinding centrum home He hies, - Omnipotent drudge, to wind the clocks of Time - And tend His ’plaining universes all-- - To us, to us, His empty theatre of night - Abandoning. But we too steal away; - For the play’s done, - Lights out--all over--and here we stand alone, - Holding each other in a little room, - Like two souls in one grave. We are such lovers-- - - ANNE’S VOICE. As there’s no room for in the human air - And green side of the grass-- - - SHAKESPEARE. A voice! A voice! - - MARY. No voice here! - - SHAKESPEARE. In my heart I heard it cry - Like a sick child waked suddenly at night. - [_Crying out_] - A child--a sick child! Unlink your arms that hold me! - - MARY. Never till I choose! - - SHAKESPEARE. Put back your hair! I am lost - Unless I lose all gain. O moonless night, - In your hot darkness I have lost my way! - But kiss me, summer, once! On London Bridge - At midnight--I’ll be there! Has the clock struck? - - MARY. Midnight long since. - - SHAKESPEARE. Oh, I am damned and lost - In hell for ever! - - MARY. Fool, dear fool, what harm? - If this be hell indeed, is not hell kind? - Is not hell lovely, if this love be hell? - Is not damnation sweet? - - SHAKESPEARE. God does not know - How sweet, how sweet! - - MARY. Were they not wise, those two - Whose same blood beats again in you and me, - That chose the desert and the fall and went - Exultant from their garden and their God? - Long shall the sworded angels stand at ease - And idly guard the undesired delight: - Long shall the grasses grow and tall the briars, - And bent the branches of the ancient trees: - And many a year the wilding flowers shall blaze - Under a lonely sun, and fruited sweets - Shall drop and rot, and feed the roots that feed, - And bud again and ripen: long and long - Silent the watchman-lark in heaven shall hang - High over Eden, e’er they come again - Those two, whose blood is our blood, and their love - Our love, our own, that no god gave us, ours, - The venture ours, the glory ours, the shame - A price worth paying, then, now, ever-- - - SHAKESPEARE. Eve, - Eve, Eve, the snake has been with you! You draw, - You drink my soul as I your body-- - - MARY. Kiss! - - THE CURTAIN FALLS. - - - - -ACT III. - -SCENE I. - - - SHAKESPEARE’S _lodging. It is the plain but - well-arranged room of a man of fair means and - fine taste. The walls are panelled: on them hang - a couple of unframed engravings, a painting, - tapestry, and a map of the known world. There is - a four-post bed with a coverlet and hangings of - needlework, and on the window-sill a pot of early - summer flowers. There is a chair or two of oak - and a table littered with papers_. SHAKESPEARE - _is sitting at it, a manuscript in his hand. On - the arm of the chair lolls_ MARLOWE, _one arm - flung round_ SHAKESPEARE’S _neck, reading over - his shoulder._ - - SHAKESPEARE. Man, how you’ve worked! A whole act to my ten lines! - You dice all day and dance all night and yet--how do you do it? - - MARLOWE. Like it? - - SHAKESPEARE. Like it? What a word for a word-master! Consider, - Kit! When the sun rises like a battle song over the sea: when the - wind’s feet visibly race along the tree-tops of a ten-mile wood: - when they shout “Amen!” in the Abbey, praying for the Queen on - Armada Day: when the sky is a brass gong and the rain steel rods, - and across all suddenly arch the seven colours of the promise--do - I _like_ these wonders when I stammer and weep, and know that God - lives? Like, Marlowe! - - MARLOWE. Yes, yes, old Will! But do you like the new act? - - SHAKESPEARE. I like it, Kit! [_They look at each other and - laugh_]. - - MARLOWE. And now for your scene, ere I go. - - SHAKESPEARE. My scene! I give you what I’ve done. Finish it - alone, Kit, and take what it brings! I’m sucked dry. - - MARLOWE. I’ve heard that before. - - SHAKESPEARE. I wish I had never come to London. - - MARLOWE. Henslowe’s back. Seen him? - - SHAKESPEARE. I’ve seen no-one. Did the tour go well? - - MARLOWE. He says so. He left them at Stratford. Well, I must go. - - SHAKESPEARE. Where? To Mary? - - MARLOWE. Why should I go to your Mary? - - SHAKESPEARE. Because I’ve asked you to, often enough. Why else? - You’ve grown to be friends. You could help me if you would. - - MARLOWE. Never step between a man and a woman! - - SHAKESPEARE. But you’re our friend! And they say you know women. - - MARLOWE. They say many things. They say we’re rivals, Will--that - I shall end by having you hissed. - - SHAKESPEARE. Let them say! But have you seen Mary? When did you - last see Mary? - - MARLOWE. I forget. Saturday. - - SHAKESPEARE. Did you speak of me, Kit? Kit, does she speak of me? - - MARLOWE. If you must have it--seldom. New songs, new books, new - music--of plays and players and the Queen’s tantrums--not of you. - - SHAKESPEARE. I have not seen her three days. - - MARLOWE. Why, go then and see her! - - SHAKESPEARE. She has company. She is waiting on the Queen. She - gives me a smile and a white cool finger-tip, and--“Farewell, Mr. - Shakespeare!” Yet a month ago, ay and less than a month--! Did - you give her my message? What did she say? - - MARLOWE. She laughed and says you dream. She never liked you - better. - - SHAKESPEARE. Did she say that? - - MARLOWE. She says you cool to her, not she to you. - - SHAKESPEARE. Did she say that? - - MARLOWE. Swore it, with tears in her eyes. - - SHAKESPEARE. Is it so? I wish it were so. Well, you’re my good - friend, Marlowe! - - MARLOWE. Oh, leave that! - - SHAKESPEARE. Kit, do you blame me so much? - - MARLOWE. Why should I blame you? - - SHAKESPEARE. That I’m here and not in Warwickshire. - - MARLOWE. I throw no stones. Why? Have you heard aught? - - SHAKESPEARE. No, nor dared ask--nor dared ask, Marlowe. The - boy’s dead. I know it. But I will not hear it. Marlowe, Marlowe, - Marlowe, do you judge me? - - MARLOWE. Ay, that putting your hand to the plough you look back. - Would I comb out my conscience daily as a woman combs out her - hair? I do what I choose, though it damn me! Blame you? The round - world has not such another Mary--or so, had I your eyes, I should - hold. For this prize, if I loved her, I would pay away all I had. - - SHAKESPEARE. Honour, Kit? - - MARLOWE. Honour, Will! - - SHAKESPEARE. Faith and conscience and an only son? - - MARLOWE. It’s my own life. What are children to me? - - SHAKESPEARE. Well, I have paid. - - MARLOWE. But you grudge--you grudge! Look at you! If you go to - her with those eyes it’s little wonder that she tires of you. - - SHAKESPEARE. Tires? Who says that she tires? Who says it? - - MARLOWE. Not I, old Will! Not I! Why, Shakespeare? - - SHAKESPEARE [_shaken_]. I can’t sleep, Kit! has come to me? I - think I go mad. [_He starts._] Was that the I can’t write. What - boy on the stairs? I sent him to her. I wrote. I have waited her - will long enough. She shall see me to-night. I’ll know what it - means. She plays with me, Kit. Are you going? - - MARLOWE. I shall scarce reach Deptford ere dark. - - SHAKESPEARE. How long do you lodge in Deptford? - - MARLOWE. All summer. - - HENSLOWE [_pounding at the door_]. Who’s at home? Who’s at home? - - MARLOWE. That’s Henslowe. - - SHAKESPEARE. Why does the boy stay so long? - - HENSLOWE [_in the doorway_]. Gentlemen, the traveller returns! - For the last time, I tell you! My bones grow too old for - barnstorming. Do you go as I come, Kit? Thank you for nothing! - - MARLOWE. Be civil, Henslowe! ‘The Curtain’ ’s on its knees to me - for my next play. - - HENSLOWE. Pooh! This man can serve my turn. - - MARLOWE. You see, they’ll make rivals of us, Will, before they’ve - done. I’ll see you soon again. [_He goes out._] - - HENSLOWE. Well, what’s the news? - - SHAKESPEARE. I sit at home. You roam England. You can do the - talking. How did the tour go? - - HENSLOWE. You’re thin, man! What’s the matter? Success doesn’t - suit you? - - SHAKESPEARE. How did the tour go? - - HENSLOWE. By way of Oxford, Warwick, Kenilworth-- - - SHAKESPEARE. I said “how” not “where.” - - HENSLOWE. --and Leamington and Stratford. We played ‘Romeo’ every - other night--and to full houses, my son! I’ve a pocketful of - money for you. They liked you everywhere. As for your townsfolk, - they went mad. You can safely go home, boy! You’ll find Sir - Thomas in the front row, splitting his gloves. He’ll ask you to - dinner. - - SHAKESPEARE. Were you there long? - - HENSLOWE. Two nights. - - SHAKESPEARE. Did you see--anyone? - - HENSLOWE. Why not say-- - - SHAKESPEARE. I say, did you pass my house? - - HENSLOWE. I had forgot the way. - - SHAKESPEARE. As I have, Henslowe! - - HENSLOWE. Should I have sought her? - - SHAKESPEARE. No. - - HENSLOWE. Yet I did see her. - Making for London, not a week ago, - Alone on horseback, sudden the long grey road - Grew friendly, like a stranger in a dream - Nodding “I know you!” and behold, a love - Long dead, that smiles and says, “I never died!” - Then in the turn of the lane I saw your thatch. - Summer not winter, else was all unchanged. - Still in the dream I left my horse to graze, - And let ten years slip from me at your gate. - - SHAKESPEARE. Is it ten years? - - HENSLOWE. The little garden lay - Enchanted in the Sunday sloth of noon: - In th’ aspen tree the wind hung, fast asleep, - Yet the air danced a foot above the flowers - And gnats danced in it. I saw a poppy-head - Spilling great petals, noiseless, one by one: - I heard the honeysuckle breathe--sweet, sweet: - The briar was sweeter--a long hedge, pink-starred-- - - SHAKESPEARE. I know. - - HENSLOWE. There was a bush of lavender, - And roses, and a bee in every rose, - Drowning the lark that fluted, fields away, - Up in the marvel blue. - - SHAKESPEARE. Did you go in? - - HENSLOWE. Why, scarce I dared, for as I latched the gate - The wind stirred drowsily, and “Hush!” it said, - And slept again; but all the garden waked - Upon the sound. I swear, as I play Prologue, - It watched me, waiting. Down the path I crept, - Tip-toe, and reached the window, and looked in. - - SHAKESPEARE. You saw--? - - HENSLOWE. I saw her; though the place was gloom - After the sunshine; but I saw her-- - - SHAKESPEARE. Changed? - - HENSLOWE. I knew her. - - SHAKESPEARE. Who was with her? - - HENSLOWE. She was alone, - Beside the hearth unkindled, sitting alone. - A child’s chair was beside her, but no child. - Her hands were sleepless, and beneath her breath - She tuned a thread of song--your song of ‘Willow.’ - But when I tapped upon the window-pane, - Oh, how she turned, and how leaped up! Her face - Glowed white as iron new lifted from the forge: - Her hair fled out behind her in one flame - As to the door she ran, with little cries - Scarce human, tearing at the bolt, the key, - And flung it crashing back: ran out, wide-armed, - Calling your name: then--saw me, and stood still, - So still you’d think she died there, standing up, - As a sapling will in frost, so desolate - She stood, with summer round her, staring-- - - SHAKESPEARE. Well? - - HENSLOWE. I asked her, did she know me? Yes, she said, - And would I rest and eat? So much she said - To the lawn behind me--oh, to the hollyhock - Stiff at my elbow--to a something--nothing-- - But not to me. I could not eat her food. - I told her so. She nodded. Oh, she knows - How thoughts run in a man. No fool, no fool! - I spoke of you. She listened. - - SHAKESPEARE. Questioned you? - - HENSLOWE. Never a question. - - SHAKESPEARE. She said nothing? - - HENSLOWE. Nothing. - - SHAKESPEARE. Not like her. - - HENSLOWE. But her eyes spoke, as I came - By way of London, Juliet, ‘The Rose,’ - And the Queen’s great favour (“And why not?” they said) - Again to silence; so, as I turned to go - I asked her--“Any greeting?” Then she said, - Lifting her chin as if she sped her words - Far, far, like pigeons flung upon the air, - And soft her voice as bird-wings--then she said, - “Tell him the woods are green at Shottery, - Fuller of flowers than any wood in the world.” - “What else?” said I. She said--“The wind still blows - Fresh between park and river. Tell him that!” - Said I--“No message, letter?” Then she said, - Twisting her hands--“Tell him the days are long. - Tell him--” and suddenly ceased. Then, with good-bye - Pleasantly spoken, and another look - At some wraith standing by me, not at me, - Went back into the house and shut the door. - - SHAKESPEARE. Ay, shut the door, Henslowe; for had she been this she - Ten years ago and I this other I-- - Well, I have friends to love! Heard Marlowe’s news? - He’s three-part through Leander! Oh, this Marlowe! - I mine for coal but he digs diamonds. - - HENSLOWE. Yet fill your scuttle lest the world grow chill! Is the - new play done? - - SHAKESPEARE. No. - - HENSLOWE. Much written? - - SHAKESPEARE. Not a line. - - HENSLOWE. Are you mad? We’re contracted. What shall I say to the - Queen? - - SHAKESPEARE. What you please. - - HENSLOWE. Are you well? - - SHAKESPEARE. Well enough. - - HENSLOWE. Ill enough, I think! - - SHAKESPEARE. Write your own plays--bid Marlowe, any man - That writes as nettles grow or rain comes down! - I am not born to it. I write not so. - Romeo and Juliet--I am dead of them! - The pay’s too small, good clappers! These ghosts - need blood - To make ’em plump and lively and they know it, - And seek their altar. Threads and floating wisps - Of being, how they fasten like a cloud - Of gnats upon me, not to be shoo’d off - Unsatisfied--and they drink deep, drink deep; - For like a pelican these motes I feed, - And with old griefs’ remembrance and old joys’ - Sharper remembrance daily scourge myself, - And still they crowd to suck my scars and live. - - HENSLOWE. Now, now, now--do I ask another ‘Juliet’ of you? God - forbid! A fine play, your ‘Juliet,’ but-- - - SHAKESPEARE. Now come the “buts.” - - HENSLOWE. Man, we must live! Can we fill the theatre on love and - longing, and high words? Ay, when Marlowe does it to the sound - of trumpets. But you--you’re not Marlowe. You know too much. - Your gods are too much men and women. Who’ll pay sixpence for a - heart-ache? and in advance too! Give us but two more ‘Romeo and - Juliet’'s and you may be a great poet, but we close down. Another - tragedy? No, no, no, we don’t ask that of you! We want light - stuff, easy stuff. Oh, who knows as well as you what’s wanted? - It’s a court play, my man! The French Embassy’s to be there and - the two Counts from Italy, and always Essex and his gang, and you - know _their_ fancy. Get down to it now, there’s a good lad! Oh, - you can do it in your sleep! Lovers and lasses, and quarrels and - kisses, like the two halves of a sandwich! But court lovers, you - know, that talk verse--and between them a green cress of country - folk and country song, daffodils and valentines, and brown - bowls of ale--season all with a pepper of wit--and there’s your - sandwich, there’s your play, as the Queen likes it, as we all - like it! - - SHAKESPEARE. Ay, as you like it! There’s your title pat! - But I’ll not serve you. I’m to live, not write. - Tell that to the Queen! - _A boy enters whistling and stops as he_ - _sees_ SHAKESPEARE. - Well, Hugh, what answer? - - BOY. None, sir! - - SHAKESPEARE. What? No answer? - - HENSLOWE. See here, Will! If you do not write me this play you - have thrice promised, I’ll to the Queen--sick or mad I’ll to the - Queen this very day for your physic--and so I warn you. - - SHAKESPEARE [_to the boy_]. Did you see--? - - BOY. The maid, sir! - - HENSLOWE. I’ll not see ‘The Rose’ in ruins for a mad-- - - SHAKESPEARE [_to the boy_]. But what did I bid you? - - BOY. Wait on the doorstep till Mistress Fitton came out, though - I waited all night. But indeed, sir, she’s gone; for I saw her, - though she did not see me. - - HENSLOWE. Oh, the Fitton! Now I see light through the wood! - - SHAKESPEARE. What’s that you say? - - HENSLOWE. I say that the Queen shall know where the blame lies. - - SHAKESPEARE. You lie. _I_ heard you. _I_ saw you twist your lips - round a white name. - - HENSLOWE. Will! Will! Will! - - SHAKESPEARE. Did you not? - - HENSLOWE. Why, Will, you have friends, though you fray ’em to the - parting of endurance. - - SHAKESPEARE. What’s this? - - HENSLOWE. I say you have friends that see what they see, and are - sorry. - - SHAKESPEARE. Yes, I am blessed in one man and woman who do not - use me as a beast to be milked dry. I have Marlowe and-- - - HENSLOWE. Marlowe? And I said, God forgive me, that you knew men - and women! Marlowe! - - SHAKESPEARE. You speak of my friend. - - HENSLOWE. Ay, Jonathan--of David, the singer, of him that took - Bathsheba, all men know how. [SHAKESPEARE _makes a threatening - movement._] No, no, Will! I am too old a man to give and take - with you--too old a man and too old a friend. - - SHAKESPEARE. So you’re to lie and I’m to listen because you’re an - old man! - - HENSLOWE. Lie? Ask any in the town. I’m but a day returned and - already I’ve heard the talk. Why, man, they make songs of it in - the street! - - SHAKESPEARE. It? It? It? - - HENSLOWE. Boy? - - BOY. Here, sir? - - HENSLOWE. What was that song you whistled as you came up the - stairs? - - BOY. ‘Weathercock,’ sir? - - HENSLOWE. That’s it! - - BOY. Lord, sir, I know but the one verse I heard a drayman sing. - - HENSLOWE. How does it go? - - BOY. It goes--[_singing._] - Two birds settle on a weathercock-- - How’s the wind to-day--O? - One shall nest and one shall knock-- - How’s the wind to-day--O? - Turn about and turn about, - Kit pops in as Will pops out! - Winds that whistle round the weathercock, - Who’s her love to-day--O? - - It’s a good tune, sir! - - HENSLOWE. Eh, Will? A good tune! A rousing tune! - - SHAKESPEARE [_softly_]. “For this prize, if I loved her, I would - pay all I had! I do what I choose though it damn me!” - - BOY. May I go, sir? - - SHAKESPEARE. Go, go! - - BOY. And my pay, sir? Indeed I’d have stopped the lady if I - could. But she made as if she were not herself, and rode out of - the yard. But I knew her, for all her riding-coat and breeches. - - HENSLOWE. What’s all this? - - SHAKESPEARE [_to the boy_]. You’re dreaming-- - - BOY. No, sir, there was your ring on her finger-- - - SHAKESPEARE. Be still! Take this and forget your dreams! - [_He gives him money._] Henslowe, farewell! If you’ve lied to me - I’ll pay you for it, and if you’ve spoken truth to me I’ll pay you - for it no less. - - HENSLOWE. Pay? I want no pay. I want the play that the Queen - ordered, and will have in the end, mark that! You have not yet - served the Queen. - - SHAKESPEARE. Boy! Hugh! - - BOY. Sir? - - SHAKESPEARE. Which way did she ride? - - BOY. Am I asleep or awake, sir? - - SHAKESPEARE. Which way did she ride? - - BOY. Across the bridge, sir, as I dreamt it, along the Deptford - road. - - SHAKESPEARE. Marlowe! The Deptford road! The Deptford road! - [_He rushes out._] - - BOY [_showing his money_]. Dreaming pays, sir! It’s gold. - - HENSLOWE. Boy, boy! Never trust a man! Never kiss a woman! Work - all day and sleep all night! Love yourself and never ask God for - the moon! So you may live to be old. This business grows beyond - me. I’ll to the Queen. - - _He trots out, shaking his head. The boy skips after him, - whistling his tune._ - - THE CURTAIN FALLS. - - -ACT III. - -SCENE II. - - _A private room at an inn late at night. Through - the door in the right wall is seen the outer - public room, with men sitting drinking. There - is a window at the back, set so low in the wall - that, above the window-sill, the heads of summer - flowers glisten in the moonlight. On the left - wall is the hearth and between it and the window - a low bed. In the centre is a table with candle, - glasses and mugs, and two or three men sitting - round it drinking_. MARLOWE _stands with his back - to the window, one foot on a chair, shouting out - a song as the curtain rises._ - - MARLOWE [_singing_]. - If Luck and I should meet - I’ll catch her to me crying, - ‘To trip with you were sweet, - Have done with your denying!’ - Hey, lass! Ho, lass! - Heel and toe, lass! - Who’ll have a dance with me? - - ALL TOGETHER. Hey, Luck! Ho, Luck! - Ne’er say no, Luck! - I’ll have a dance with thee! - - A MAN [_hammering the table_]. Again! Again! - - LANDLORD [_at the door_]. Sir, sir, there’s without a young - gentleman hot with riding-- - - MARLOWE. Does the hot young gentleman give no name? - - LANDLORD. Why yes, sir, Archer, Francis Archer! He said you would - know him. - - MARLOWE. I knew an Archer, but he died in Flanders. - - LANDLORD. He may well come from Flanders, sir, for he’s muddy. - - MARLOWE. Are Flanders’ graves so shallow? Tell him if he’s alive - I don’t know him, and if he’s dead I won’t know him, and so - either way let him go where he belongs. - - _The_ LANDLORD _goes out._ - - THE MAN. What, Kit! send him to hell with a dry throat? - - MARLOWE. And all impostors with him! - - THE MAN. But what if it were a true ghost? Have a heart! You’ll - be one yourself some day, and watch old friends run away from you - when you come to haunt them in pure good fellowship. - - LANDLORD [_at the door_]. Sir, he says indeed he knows you. His - business is private. - - MARLOWE. Well, let him come in. No, friends, sit still! If he’s - the death he pretends we’ll face him together as the song teaches. - [_Singing._] When Death at last arrives, - I’ll greet him with a chuckle, - I’ll ask him how he thrives - And press his bony knuckle, - With--Ho, boy! Hey, boy! - Come this way, boy! - Who’ll have a drink with me? - - MARY’S VOICE [_on the stairs_]. - Hey, Sir! Ho, Sir! - No, no, no, Sir! - Why should he drink with thee? - - ALL TOGETHER. Hey, Death! Ho, Death! - Let me go, Death! - I’ll never drink with thee! - - MARLOWE. What voice is that? - - MARY _stands in the doorway. She is dressed as a boy, with cloak, - riding boots, and slouch cap._ - - MARY [_singing_]. If Love should pass me by, - I’ll follow till I find him, - And when I hear him sigh, - I’ll tear the veils that blind him. - Up, man! Dance, man! - Take your chance, man! - Who’ll get a kiss from me? - - ALL TOGETHER. Hey, Love! Ho, Love! - None shall know, Love! - Keep but a kiss for me! [_They clap._] - - THE MAN [_to_ MARLOWE]. Ghost of a nightingale! D’you know him? - - MARLOWE. I think I do. [_To_ MARY, _aside_] What April freak is - this? - - THE MAN [_with a glass_]. Spirits to spirit, young sir! Have a - drink! - - MARY. I should choke, sir! We drink nectar in my country. - - THE MAN. Where’s that, ghost? - - MARY. Oh, somewhere on the soft side of heaven where the poppies - grow. - - THE MAN. He swore you were dead and buried. - - MARY. And so I was. But there’s a witch in London so sighs for - him and so cries for him, that in the end she whistled me out of - my gravity and sent me here to fetch him home to her. - - THE MAN. Her name, transparency, her name? - - MARY. Why, sir, I rode in such haste that my memory could not - keep up with me. It’ll not be here this half hour. - - MARLOWE. Landlord, pour ale for a dozen, and these friends will - drink to her, name or no name--in the next room. - - THE MAN. Kit, you’re a man of tact! I’m a man of tact. We’re all - men of tact! - - Ho, boys! Hey, boys! - Come this way, boys! - Who’ll have a drink with me? - - _The door closes on them._ - - MARY. Well, did you ever see a better boy? My hair was the only - trouble. - - MARLOWE. Madcap! What does this mean? - - MARY. What I said! [_singing_]. - Moth, where are you flown? - To burn in a flame! - Moth, I lie alone-- - You’ve not been near me these four days. - - MARLOWE. Uneasy days--I could not. - - MARY. Are you burned, moth? Are the poor wings a-frizzle? - - MARLOWE. Not mine, dear candle, but a king of moths, - But a great hawk-moth, velvet as the night - He beats with twilight wings, he, he is singed, - Fallen to earth and pitiful. - - MARY. Oh, Shakespeare! - My dear, I’ve run away because I hate - The smell of burning. - - He was to come to me to-night to tell me his tragedies and his - comedies and--oh, I yawn! And I played her so well too at the - first-- - - MARLOWE. Who? - - MARY. The cool nymph under Tiber stairs--what’s her - name?--Egeria. Am I your Egeria, Marlowe? - - MARLOWE. Something less slippery. - - MARY. Oh, she was fun to play--first to please the Queen and - then to please myself. For I was caught, you know. It’s something - to be hung among the stars, something to say--“I was his Juliet!” - - MARLOWE. What, you--you Comedy-Kate? - - MARY. Why, I’m a woman! that is--fifty women! - While he played Romeo to my Juliet - I could be anything he chose. O Kit! - I sucked his great soul out. You never lit the blaze - I was for half an hour: then--out I went! - - MARLOWE. He stoops o’er the embers yet. - - MARY. But ashes fanned - Fly from their centre, lighter than a kiss, - And settle--where they please! [_She kisses him._] - D’you love me? - - MARLOWE. More than I wish. - - MARY. Would you be cured? - - MARLOWE. Not possible. - - MARY [_singing_]. Go to church, sweetheart, - A flower in your coat! - Your wedding bells shall prove - The death of love! The death of love! - Ding-dong! Ding-dong! - The death of love! - Or so Will says. - - MARLOWE. He should know. - - MARY. What’s that? - - MARLOWE. Nothing. - - MARY. He’s married? - - MARLOWE. I do not tell you so. - - MARY. Married! He shall pay me. Married! I guessed it--but he - shall pay me. A country girl? - - MARLOWE. If you must know! He has not seen her these ten years. - She sent for him the night of ‘Juliet.’ - - MARY. Why now all’s plain. - So she’s the canker that hath drooped our rose! - If I had loved him--I do not love him, Marlowe-- - This would have fanned a flame. Well, we’re all cheats! - But now I cheat with better conscience. Married! - Lord, I could laugh! He must not know I know it. - - MARLOWE. I shan’t boast I told you. O Mary, when I first came to - you, it was he sent me. He came like a child and asked me to see - you, to say what good of him I could, - Because I was his friend. And now, see, see, - How I have friended him! - - MARY. I love you for it. - He shall not know. Why talk of him? Forget him! - - MARLOWE. Can you? - - MARY. Why, that I cannot makes me mad-- - - MARLOWE. Forget him? - As soon forget myself! I am his courage, - His worldly wisdom--Mary, I think I am - The youth he lost in Stratford. Yet we’re one age, - And now we write one play. If I died of a sudden, - It seems he’d breathe me as I left my body, - And I should live in him as sunshine lies - Forgotten in a forest, and be found - In slants and pools and patterns, golden still - In all he writes. - - MARY. O dull Kit! have I adventured here to hear you talk of - dying? - - MARLOWE. You borrowed Archer’s name. - - MARY. I wanted one that would startle you out to me, and you told - me the tale of him once, how young he died. - - MARLOWE. And how unwilling! You’ve set him running in my head - like a spider in a skull, - Spinning across the hollows of mine eyes - A web of dusty thought. Sweet, brush him off! - Death’s a vile dreg in this intoxicant, - This liquor of the gods, this seven-hued life. - Sometimes I pinch myself, say--“Can you die? - Is it possible? Will you be winter-nipped - One day like other flies?” I’m glad you came. - Stay with me, stay, till the last minute of life! - Let the court go, the world go, stay with me! - - MARY [_her arms round him_]. - So--quiet till the dawn comes, quiet! Hark! - Who called? Did you hear it? - - MARLOWE. Birds in the ivy. - - MARY. No. - Twice in the road I stopped and turned about - Because I heard my name called. There was nothing; - Yet I had heard it--Mary--Mary--Mary! - - MARLOWE. You heard your own heart pound from riding. - - MARY. Again! - Open the window! [MARLOWE _rises and goes to the window._] - Do you see anything? - - MARLOWE. All’s sinister. The moon fled out of the sky - Long since, and the black trees of midnight quake. - - MARY. And the wind! What a wind! It tugs at the window-frame - Like jealousy, mad to break in and part us. - Could you be jealous? - - MARLOWE. If I were a fool - I’d let you guess it. - - MARY. Wise, you’re wise, but--jealous? - Too many men in the world! I’d lift no finger - To beckon back the fool that tired of me, - Would you? But he, he glooms and says no word, - But follows with his eyes whene’er I stir. - I hate those asking eyes. Look thus at me - But once and--ended, Marlowe! I’ll not give - But when I choose. [_He sits beside her._] - - MARLOWE. But when _I_ choose. - - _Behind them the blur of the window is darkened._ - - MARY [_in his arms_]. Why yes! - Had he your key-word--! Sometimes I like him yet, - When anger comes in a white lightning flash, - Then he’s the man of men still, then with shut eyes - I think him you and shiver and I like him, - Held roughly in his arms, thinking of you. - The Warwick burr is like an afterwards - Of thunder when he’s angry, in his speech. - - MARLOWE. What does he say? - - MARY. He says he is not jealous! - He would not wrong me so, nor wrong himself. - Then the sky lightens and we kiss--or kiss not! - Who cares? - Then in come you. It’s well he thinks you his - In friendship-- - - MARLOWE. So I was. - - SHAKESPEARE _swings himself noiselessly over the sill._ - - MARY. And so you are, - And have all things in common as friends should. - Eh, friend? - Oh, stir not! Frowning? If you were a fool-- - (How did it run?) you’d let me guess you--jealous! - But you’re no fool. - - MARLOWE. Let’s have no more! You know - I loved--I love the man. - - MARY. Why, so do I. - - MARLOWE. You shall not! - - MARY. Then I will not. Not to-night. - - SHAKESPEARE [_standing by the window_]. - Why not to-night, my lover and my friend? - _He comes down into the room as they start up._ - Will you not give me wine and welcome me? - Sit down, sit down--we three have much to say! - But tell me first, what does that hand of yours - Upon her neck, as there were custom in it? - Part! Part, I say! Part! lest I couple you - Once and for all! - - MARY. He’s armed! - - MARLOWE. He shall not touch you! - - SHAKESPEARE. You, Marlowe! You! - - MARLOWE. Stand out of her way! - - SHAKESPEARE. You! You! - - MARLOWE. Why then-- - - MARLOWE _darts at_ SHAKESPEARE _and is thrown off. He staggers - against the table, knocking over the candle. As he strikes the - second time his arm is knocked up, striking his own forehead. - He falls across the bed. There is an instant’s pause, then_ - SHAKESPEARE _rushes to him, slipping an arm under his shoulder._ - - MARY. Dead? Is he dead? Oh, what an end! - I never saw a dead man. Will--to me! - - SHAKESPEARE. Get help! - - MARY. I dare not. - - MARLOWE. Oh! - - SHAKESPEARE. What is it? - - MARLOWE. Oh! - My life, my lovely life, and cast away - Untasted, wasted-- - Death, let me go! [_He dies._] - - MARY. What now? Rouse up! Delay - Is dangerous. Wake! Wake! What shall we do? - - SHAKESPEARE. O trumpet of the angels lent to a boy, - Could I not spare you for the golden blast, - For the great sound’s sake? What have I done? - - ANNE’S VOICE. Ah! Done - The thing you would not do-- - - MARY. Rouse! Rouse yourself! - What now? - - ANNE’S VOICE. Remember-- - - SHAKESPEARE. Hark! A sigh! - - MARY. The wind - Keening the night-- - - SHAKESPEARE. A sound of weeping-- - - MARY. Rain. - Is this a time for visions? White-cheeked day - Stares through the pane. Each minute is an eye - Opening upon us. What shall we do now? - - SHAKESPEARE. Weep, clamorous harlot! We have given him death, - And shall we dock his rights of death, his peace - Upon his bed, his sun of hair smoothed, hands - Crossed decently by me, his friend? Close you - His eyes with kisses, lest I kill you too! - Give him his due, I say! his woman’s tears! - You were his woman--oh, deny it not! - You were his woman. Pay him what you owe! - - MARY. What? Do you glove my clean hand with your stain, - Red fingers? Soft! This is your kill, not mine! - My free soul is not sticky with your sins. - _You_ pinch your lips? _You_ singe me with your tongue? - Your country lilac that you left for me - Taught you strange names for a woman. Harlot? I? - Sweep your own stable, trickster, married man! - Lie, cheat, break faith, until you end a man - That bettered you as roses better weeds-- - - SHAKESPEARE. That is well known. - - MARY. --and now you’ll stare and weep - Until the watch comes and the Queen hears all. - Then--ends all! - And I caught with you! She’s a devil of ice - Since Leicester died. No man or woman stirs her; - But she must have her toys! London’s her doll’s house, - Its marts, its theatres. This death was half her pride, - And you the other. Was I not set to mould you? - What will she do to me now her doll’s broken, - Broken in my hand? I fear her, oh, I fear her, - The green eyes of her justice and her smile. - Will, if you love me--you who have had my lips, - And more, and more, and shall have all again, - All that you choose, and gladly given--awake! - Fly while there’s time to save yourself and me! - Look not on him--he’s blind--he cannot speak, - Nor stretch a hand to stay you--he’s cold nothing! - But we, we live! Here on my throat, here, here, - (Give me your fingers!) feel the hot pulse live! - Yet I’ll die sooner than be pent. You know me! - Must I lie still for ever at his side - Because you will not rouse yourself? - - SHAKESPEARE. Who speaks? - O vanished dew, O summer sweetness gone, - O perfume staled in a night, that yesterday - Was fresh as morning roses--do you live? - Are you still Mary? O my shining lamp - Of love put out, how dark the world has grown! - Did you want him so? Did it come on you suddenly, - And shake you from your north-- - - MARY. The dawn! the dawn! - - SHAKESPEARE. Or did you never love me--where do you point? - - MARY. To save ourselves comes first! - - SHAKESPEARE. To answer me! - - MARY. Fool! Fool! Will you hang? Let go, fool! - - SHAKESPEARE. Answer me! - - MARY. Will, for the love of living-- - - SHAKESPEARE. Answer me! - - MARY. I never loved you. Are you answered? - - ANNE’S VOICE. Oh-- - For a month--in the spring-- - - SHAKESPEARE. Is it a month ago? - The trees are not yet metalled with the dust - Of summer, that were greening when we two-- - - MARY. Oh, peace! - - SHAKESPEARE. --in a night of spring-- - - MARY. Ah, was it love? - - SHAKESPEARE. Remember, Beauty, when you came to me, - As came the beggar to Cophetua, - As queens came conquered to the Macedon, - As Cressid came by night to Diomed, - As night comes queenly to the bed of day - Enmantled in her hair, so you to me, - Juliet, and all your night of hair was mine - To curtain me and you-- - - MARY. Forgotten, forgotten-- - - SHAKESPEARE. That night you loved me-- - - ANNE’S VOICE. I was drunk with dreams - That night. - - SHAKESPEARE. That night of victory you loved me! - I have my witnesses. O watching stars-- - - MARY. The eyes, the eyes, the arch of eyes! - - SHAKESPEARE. --speak for me! - Once was a taper that outshone you all, - It burned so bright. Oh, how you winked and pried! - I saw you through the tatters of the dark - And mocked you in my hour. Yet speak for me, - Eternal lights, for now my candle’s blown - Past envy! But she loved me then! - - MARY. I know not. - - SHAKESPEARE. Though god and devil deny--you loved me then! - - MARY. But was it love? - I could have loved if you had taught me loving. - Something I sought and found not; so I turned - From searching. I have clean forgotten now - That ever I sought--and so live merrily-- - And so will live! Why wreck myself for you? - - SHAKESPEARE. O heart’s desire, and eyes’, desire of hands, - Self of myself, have pity! - - MARY. What had you? - If I had borne you children (but I was wise, - Knowing my man, as men have taught me men) - What name had you to give them, to give me? - No, no, I wrong you, for you christened me - But now, first having slain him who had struck - The rankness from your mouth. - - SHAKESPEARE. What I have done-- - - MARY. Lied, lied to me! - --and if I did-- - - ANNE’S VOICE. To hold you! - I couldn’t lose you. I was mad with pain. - - MARY. Tricked me-- - - SHAKESPEARE. To hold--listen to me--to hold you! - Lest I should lose you. I was mad with pain. - - MARY. Are you so womanish that a breath of pain-- - - SHAKESPEARE. A breath! God, listen! A breath, a summer breath! - - MARY. --could blow away your honour? - - SHAKESPEARE. Once it was mine. - I laid it up with you. Where is it now? - I’m stripped of honour like an oak in June - Whose leaves a curse of caterpillars eat, - That stands a mockery to flowers and men, - With naked arms praying the lightning down. - - ANNE’S VOICE. At Shottery the woods are green-- - - SHAKESPEARE. My God! - - ANNE’S VOICE. And full of flowers-- - - SHAKESPEARE. Let be, let be! My honour? - I bought it with a woman--not like you, - A faithless-faithful woman--not like you; - But weak as I’m weak, loving as I love, - God help her! not like you--no black-eyed Spain - Whose cheeks hang out their red to match the red - When bull meets man--no luxury that wears - A lover like new clothes, and all the while - Eyes other women’s fashions; but a woman - That should have loved me less, poor fool, and less-- - - MARY. You should have loved me less, my fool, and less! - - SHAKESPEARE. Yet from this folly all the music springs - That is in the world, and all my hopes that ranged - Lark-high in heaven! Yet murder comes of it. - Look where he lies! He was true friend to me, - And I to him, until you came, you came. - - MARY. I came and I can go. - - SHAKESPEARE. Mary! [_There is a clatter of hoofs._] - - MARY. D’you hear? - Horses! What do they seek? You, Marlowe, me? - - SHAKESPEARE. This they call conscience. - - MARY. Take your hand away! - I’ll slip through yet; nor shall you follow me; - You had your chance. Listen! A boy was here; - One Francis Archer. Say it after me-- - No woman, but a boy, a stranger to you! - - SHAKESPEARE. Strange to me, Mary. - - _There is a sound of voices in the yard._ - - MARY. If you hold me now - I’ll scream and swear you stabbed him as he slept, - They’re drinking still. [_She opens the door._] - - VOICES [_in the outer room_]. - Hey, boy! Ho, boy! - Heel and toe, boy! - Who’ll have a drink with me? - - MARY. If you should get away. - Send me no message, come not near me! Now! - - _She slips into the room_. SHAKESPEARE _stands at - the half open door watching._ - - A MAN. Sing another verse! - - ANOTHER. There’s the boy back. Make him sing it! - - MARY. I’m to fetch more wine first. - - THE MAN. Sing another verse! - - ANOTHER. If Love and I should meet, - I’ll catch her to me-- - - ANOTHER. Luck, you fool, not love! - - ANOTHER. Where’s the difference? If you’re in love you’re in luck. - - ANOTHER. Here, stop the boy! - - MARY. Let me pass, gentlemen! - - THE MAN. Sing another verse! - - ANOTHER. If Love and I-- - - ANOTHER. Shut up now and let the kid sing it! - - MARY. Why yes, if you’ll let me pass afterwards, sir, like love - in the song. - - THE MAN. Sing another verse! Sing twenty other verses! - - MARY [_singing_]. If Love should pass me by, - I’ll follow till I find him, - And when I hear him cry, - I’ll tear the veils that blind him! - - THE MAN. Now then, chorus! - - ALL TOGETHER. Hey, Love! Ho, Love! - None shall know, Love! - Keep but a kiss for me! - - MARY _disappears in the crowd. The door swings to as_ - SHAKESPEARE _turns back into the room_. - - SHAKESPEARE. Marlowe! Marlowe! - She is gone, Marlowe, that was a fume of wine - Between us. Marlowe, Marlowe, speak to me! - Never a sound. We have seen many a dawn - Creep like a house-wife on the drunken night, - And tumble him from heaven with work-day hand - And bird-shrill railing; but such a waking up - As this we never knew. Sorry and cold - I look on you. Kit, Kit, this mark of the knife - Is the first blot I ever saw in you, - The first ill-writing. Kit, for your own sake, - You should have wronged a stranger, not your friend; - For like a looking-glass my heart still served you - To see yourself, and when you struck at me, - You struck yourself, and broke this mirror too. - _A knock._ - Mary? Is it Mary? Lie you quiet, Marlowe! - We will not let her in. - - HENSLOWE. Within, who’s within there? - - SHAKESPEARE. Two dead men. - - HENSLOWE. Is it Marlowe? - Is Shakespeare there? - - SHAKESPEARE. Come in, come in, come in! - - HENSLOWE _comes in hurriedly. He leaves the - door half open behind him._ - - VOICES [_singing_]. Ho, boy! Hey, boy! - Come this way, boy! - Who’ll have a drink with me? - - HENSLOWE. Why, here’s a bird of wisdom sitting in the dark! Shut - your eyes, man, and use candles or you’ll scorch out your own - sockets! What’s wrong now? But tell me that as we ride; for the - Queen wants you in a hurry, and what’s more an angry Queen. I’d - not be you! Here I’ve hunted London for you from tavern to lady’s - lodging till I ferreted out that Marlowe was here, and so I - followed him for news. - - SHAKESPEARE. Here’s news enough. Henslowe, look here! - - HENSLOWE. Who did it? - - SHAKESPEARE. We--he and I. There was another in it. - - HENSLOWE. Was it the youngster passed me in the yard, - Caught at his horse and rode like fear away? - - SHAKESPEARE. Was’t a pale horse? - - HENSLOWE. I saw not. In the dark - A voice cried “Hurry!” - - SHAKESPEARE. That was she. - - HENSLOWE. Who? Who? - - SHAKESPEARE. Death. She has fled and left her catch behind. - Can you do anything? - - HENSLOWE. For the living scarce-- - You must be got away. Are you known here? - - SHAKESPEARE. As men know Cain. All, all is finished, Henslowe! - - LANDLORD [_putting his head in at the door_]. - Is anything wrong sir? - - HENSLOWE. Wrong? What should be wrong? But we’re in haste. - Call the ostler! We want a second horse. - - _He slips his arm through_ SHAKESPEARE’S _and tries - to lead him to the door._ - - LANDLORD. Is the gentleman ill, sir? He sways. - - HENSLOWE. Your good wine, host. - - A MAN [_over the_ LANDLORD’S _shoulder_]. - The best on the Surrey side! - - HENSLOWE. He’ll tell the Queen so in an hour if you’ll make way. - - MEN [_crowding into the doorway_]. The Queen! - Did you hear? - He’s been sent by the Queen! - - HENSLOWE. Keep your people back, landlord! - - THE MAN [_staggering into the room_]. - I say, three cheers for the Queen! - - ANOTHER. The Queen! The Queen! Three cheers for Bess! - [_Singing_]. Hey, Bess! Ho, Bess! - Heel and toe, Bess! - Ladies and gentlemen, here’s a man on the bed. - - HENSLOWE. Ay! My friend! Let him be! - - THE MAN. Is he drunk too? - - THE OTHER. If I were a judge I’d say “Very drunk”! He’s spilled - his wine on his clothes. What I say is “Waste not, want not!” - - LANDLORD. Come now, come away! You hear what the gentleman says. - - THE MAN [_throwing him off_]. - Hey, Death! Ho, Death! - Let me go, Death! - Shall I wake him? - - SHAKESPEARE [_turning in the doorway_]. Ay, wake him, wake him, - old trump of judgment! Wake him if you can, - And if you cannot let him sleep his sleep - And envy him that he can sleep so sound! - - THE MAN. Ay sir, he shall sleep till he wakes. But we, sir, we’ll - sing you off the premises, for the love of Bess. - Hey, Bess? Ho, Bess! - - ANOTHER [_hammering the table_]. Death, not Bess! Death! Death! - Death! Come along chorus! - - TWO OR THREE [_as they lurch out of the room_]. - Ho, boy! Hey, boy! - Come this way, boy! - Who’ll have a drink with me? - - ALL [_following_]. Hey, Death! Ho, Death! - Out you go, Death! - We’ll never drink with thee! - - _The door swings to and quiet settles on the lightening room. - The first ray of sunlight touches the bed. Outside the birds - are beginning to sing._ - - THE CURTAIN FALLS. - - - - -ACT IV. - - - _A room in the palace, hung with tapestries. On the - right wall is a heavy, studded door: on the left, - a great raised seat on a low platform. On the - back wall is a small curtained door and a large - window. A girl in a primrose-coloured gown stands - at it holding back its curtain. Set slantwise in - front of it, nearer the centre of the stage, is a - writing table with scattered papers. At it sits_ - ELIZABETH, _a secretary beside her. The Queen’s - dress is of dull grey brocade with transparent - lawn and jewels of aquamarine; but as the evening - deepens its colour becomes one with the dusk and - only her white face and hands are clearly seen._ - - A HAWKER [_chanting in the street far away_]. - Cress! Buy cress! - Who’ll buy my cress-es? - - ELIZABETH _lays down her pen._ - - ELIZABETH. These three are signed. Take them to Burleigh. This - I’ll not grant. Tell him so! [_The man bows and goes out._] - - HAWKER [_nearer_]. Cress! Buy cress! - - ELIZABETH. There! Put the papers by! - - _The girl at the window comes down to the table and - begins to sort them._ - - ANOTHER HAWKER. Strawberries! Ripe strawberries! - - THE GIRL. I wonder, Madam, that you choose this room - Here on the noisy street. - - ELIZABETH. Child, when you marry - Who’ll rule your nursery, you or your maids? - - GIRL. Why, that I will! - - ELIZABETH. Then you must sit in it daily. Where’s Mary Fitton? - - GIRL. In waiting, Madam, and half asleep. She was up early - to-day. I saw her from my window by the little garden door and - called to her. She had been out to pick roses, as you bade her, - ere the dew dried on them. - - ELIZABETH. As I bade her? - - GIRL. Yes, Madam, she said so. - - HAWKER [_close at hand_]. Cress! Buy cress! - Fit for Queen Bess! - - ELIZABETH. Open the window! [_The girl opens it._] - - HAWKER. Cress! Buy cress! - Who’ll buy my cress-es? - - ELIZABETH. Fetch me my purse! - - _The girl goes out by the little door. As she does so_, - ELIZABETH _takes her purse from a drawer and going to - the window, throws out a coin._ - - HAWKER. Cress! Buy cress! - Are you there, lady? [ELIZABETH _throws out another coin._] - I plucked my riches - From Deptford ditches, - I came by a Deptford Inn; - Where a young man lies, - With pennies on his eyes-- - Murdered, lady, and none saw who did it! - Cress! Buy cress! - - ELIZABETH _flings out another coin._ - - There was a boy that ran away, and Henslowe the Queen’s man, - and a third-- Cress! Buy cress! - A supper for Queen Bess! - - ELIZABETH _lays down the purse on the table as the - girl comes back._ - - GIRL [_distressed_]. Madam-- - - ELIZABETH. It was here. That cress seller has a sweet voice. - Fling her a coin and ask her where she lives! - - GIRL [_going to the window_]. Hey, beggar! - - HAWKER. Bless you, lady! - - GIRL. Where do you come from with your green stuff? - - HAWKER. Marlow, lady, Marlow! - Down by the river where the cresses grow, - And buttercups like guineas. - Cress! Buy cress! - Who’ll buy my cress-es? - - _Her voice dies away in the distance._ - - GIRL. She has come a long way. - Marlow’s across the river, far from us. - - ELIZABETH. Marlowe’s across the river, far from us. - If any ask to speak with me, let me know it! - - GIRL. Why, Madam, Henslowe, the old player, has been waiting - since noon, and Mr. Shakespeare with him. - - ELIZABETH. The name’s not written here. Whose duty? - - GIRL. Mary Fitton’s. - - ELIZABETH. Send Henslowe! And when I ring let Mary Fitton answer! - - GIRL. I’ll tell her, Madam. - - _She goes out_. ELIZABETH _rises and goes slowly - across the room to the dais and seats herself. - There is a pause. Then a page throws open the big - door facing the dais and_ HENSLOWE _enters._ - - ELIZABETH. Henslowe, you’re not welcome - For the news you bring. - - HENSLOWE. Madam, that Marlowe’s dead - I know because I found him--I am new come from Deptford-- - But how you know I know not. - - ELIZABETH. Why, not a keel - Grounds on the Cornish pebbles, but the jar - Thrills through all English earth home to my feet. - No riderless horse snuffs blood and gallops home - To a girl widowed, but I the sparking hoofs - Hear pound as her heart pounds, waiting; for my spies - Are everywhere. Do not my English swifts - Report to me at dusk, eavesdropping low, - The number of my English primroses - In English woods all spring? The gulls on Thames - Scream past the Tower “Storm in Channel! Storm!” - And if I hear not, sudden my drinking glass - Rings out “Send help, lest English sailors drown!” - The lantern moon swings o’er unvisited towns - Signalling “Peace!” or a star shoots out of the west - Across my window, flashing “Danger here!” - And is it Ireland rising, or a child - On chalk-pit roof after the blackberries, - I’m warned, and bid my human servants haste. - The flat-worn stones, the echoes of the streets - At night when drunkards tumble, citizens - In the half silence and half light trot home, - Reveal the well, the ill in my own land. - I am its eyes, its pulse, its finger-tips, - The wakeful partner of its married soul. - I know what darkness does, what dawn discovers - In all the English country. I am the Queen. - You have done my errand? Shakespeare the player is with you? - - HENSLOWE. He waits without. - - ELIZABETH. Then he too was at Deptford last night. - - HENSLOWE. None knows it. - - ELIZABETH. That’s well! But was it he, Henslowe--he? - - HENSLOWE. No, no, no! I’ll swear it. - - ELIZABETH. But will he swear it? - - HENSLOWE. He’s dazed, he will say anything--yes--no-- - Just as you prompt him, as if one blow had struck - His soul and Marlowe’s body. Madam, he’s not his witness! - Yet, if t’were true, if he has lost us Marlowe, - Must we lose him? Then has the English stage - Lost both her hands and cannot feed herself, - Starves, Madam! - - ELIZABETH. You’re honest, Henslowe! Your son’s son one day - May help a king to thread a needle’s eye. - But do you think he did it? - - HENSLOWE. No, though he says it, - For he loved him. - - ELIZABETH. Loved him, but a woman better. - - HENSLOWE. There was no woman with them. - - ELIZABETH. So I hear; but a boy! - - HENSLOWE. Unknown. - - ELIZABETH. Did you see him? - - HENSLOWE. Not his face. He was past me in a flash, crying “Hurry!” - - ELIZABETH. Well, I’ll see Shakespeare. - - HENSLOWE. Madam-- - - ELIZABETH. I thread my own needles, Henslowe, being a woman. - [MARY FITTON _enters._] Send Mr. Shakespeare to me! - [_Then, as_ MARY _turns to go_--] Mary! - - MARY. Madam? - - ELIZABETH. Bid him hurry! [MARY _turns to the door._] Mary! - - MARY. Madam? - - ELIZABETH. What did I tell you but now? - - MARY. Madam, to bid him hurry. - - HENSLOWE [_recognising the voice_]. “Hurry!” - - ELIZABETH. Wait. Daylight, Henslowe? Girl, you’re slow. You go - heavily. Have you not slept? Let Henslowe do your errand! - [_To_ HENSLOWE.] Let him wait at hand! - - MARY. Madam, I can well go. - - ELIZABETH. No hurry now. [HENSLOWE _goes out._] D’you guess why I - send for your teller of tales? - - MARY. No, Madam. - - ELIZABETH. He has told a tale, it seems, that I’d hear told again. - - MARY. Told? - - ELIZABETH. Why are you not in black, Mary? - - MARY. I, Madam? - - ELIZABETH. Marlowe is dead. - - MARY. I grieve to hear it. - - ELIZABETH. When did you hear? - - MARY. Why, Madam, now--you tell me! - - ELIZABETH. Then I tell you wrong. He is alive and has told all. - - MARY. Alive? They lie to you, Madam! What has he told? - Who says it? - - ELIZABETH. You, Mary Fitton! For by your dark-ringed eyes - Your dreaming service and those blind hands of yours - Seeking a hold, I think you saw him die, - Ere you passed Henslowe in the dark, crying “Hurry!” - - MARY. Madam, it was your errand. For this Shakespeare, - This quill you thrust on me to sharpen up, - Jealous of Marlowe, though he had no cause - (What! must I live his nun, his stay-at-home? - Your servant and a lady of the court!), - Sent me a letter-- - - ELIZABETH. Let me read! - - MARY. I tore it! - --so inked in threat that I post-haste for Deptford-- - - ELIZABETH. Ill judged! - - MARY. I know! I followed my first fear. - --rode to warn Marlowe. Shakespeare following, - Spying upon us, spying upon us, Madam! - Found us in counsel. Then, with a hail of words - That Marlowe would not bear, with “stale” and “harlot,” - He beat me down, till Marlowe flung ’em back; - Then like two dogs they struggled. Marlowe fell. - - ELIZABETH. Struck down? - - MARY. Struck down, but blindly, not to kill-- - I will not think to kill--and as he fell - His own knife caught him, here. - - ELIZABETH. What did you then? - - MARY. I, Madam? - - ELIZABETH. You, Madam? Did you fold your hands - And watch this business as you’d watch a play, - And clap them on? Or, as a short month since - You played a part I think, did you strike in - And play a part? Why did you call for help? - - MARY. I did not, Madam! - - ELIZABETH. Why did not Mary Fitton - Cry help against--which lover? - - MARY. Lover, Madam? - - ELIZABETH. There’s tinker, tailor, soldier--the old rhyme-- - There’s Pembroke, Marlowe, Shakespeare-- - - MARY. Madam! Madam! - I’ll not bear this! - - ELIZABETH. Ay, you have fierce black eyes-- - What will you do then if you will not bear it? - You have leave to show. - - MARY. I say I did cry out - To both that they should cease. - - ELIZABETH. So you cried out! - Bring up your witnesses that heard you cry! - - MARY. I did not stand and watch. I ran upon them. - I was flung off and bruised. - - ELIZABETH. Show me the bruise! - - MARY. High on my arm-- - - ELIZABETH. Rip up your sleeve and show me! - You stand, you stare, you’re white. I think you shake. - - MARY. Anger not fear, though you were ten times Queen - Of twenty Englands! - - ELIZABETH. Quiet, and quiet, my girl! - This ill-spent night has left you feverish. - You are too free for court, - Too bruised and touzled for my gentlemen. - You shall go home, I think, to heal this bruise, - To cleanse your body and soul in country air - And banished quiet till I send for you. - - MARY. Upon what count? - - ELIZABETH. On none. But I’ve no time, - No room for butter-fingers. Here’s a man slain - Upon your lap that England needed. Go! - Go, blunted tool! [_She touches a bell._] - - MARY. Madam! Madam! You wrong me! - - ELIZABETH. I’ve wronged your betters, Mary, Mary Fitton, - As tide wrongs pebble, or as wind wrongs chaff - At threshing time. - _A page enters at the great door on the right._ - Send Mr. Shakespeare to me! - - MARY. This is the justice of the Queen of England! - - ELIZABETH. My justice. - - MARY. Have I not served you? - - ELIZABETH. All things serve me. - They choose their path. I use them in their path. - - MARY. As once you used, they say-- - - ELIZABETH. Do not dare! Do not dare! - - MARY. Dare, Madam? May I not wonder, like another. - Why you have used me thus? - - ELIZABETH. I used you, dirt, - To show a man how foul the dirt can be; - But now I brush you from him. - _The main door opens and_ HENSLOWE _enters followed - by_ SHAKESPEARE. _She beckons to_ HENSLOWE. - Henslowe! - - HENSLOWE. Madam? - - _They speak privately for a moment, then_ - HENSLOWE _goes out by the small door._ - - MARY [_to_ SHAKESPEARE]. - You come to cue! - - SHAKESPEARE. What has fallen? - - MARY. Sent away - Because of you, because my name is Mary! - - SHAKESPEARE. Go to my lodging! Wait for me! I’ll follow, - For where you go I go. - - MARY. Ay, bring your wife! - This act is over! There are other men! - - _She goes out._ - - SHAKESPEARE. Mary! Love, life, the breath I breathe, come back! - Mary, you have not heard me! Mary! Mary - Come back! [_The door shuts with a clang._] - - ANNE’S VOICE. Come back! - - ELIZABETH. Never in any world! - Fasten the door there! - - SHAKESPEARE [_struggling to open it_]. Open! Open, I say! - - ELIZABETH. Beat, beat your heart out! Let me watch you beat - Those servants of your soul until they bleed, - Mash, agonise, against a senseless door! - Beat, beat your weaker hands than that dead tree, - Tear, tear your nails upon its nails in vain. - Beat, beat your heart out--you’ll not pass the door! - Can you not come at her? She goes--beat, beat! - The distance widens, like a ship she goes - Utterly from you. Follow! Beat your hands! - What? Are you held, you who bow men with words - Windily down like corn-fields? Is she gone? - Call up the clouds to carry you who walk - Sky-high, star-level, eyeing the naked sun. - Where are your wings? Beat, beat your heart out! Beat! - Where is your strength? Will not the wood be moved? - Cannot your love-call reach her, you who know - The heart of the lark and how the warm throat thrills - At mating-time? Is there a living thing - You do not dwell in, cannot stir, and yet - You cannot move this door? - - SHAKESPEARE. I am not so bound-- - - ELIZABETH. Why, yes, there’s the window! You may cast down and be - done with it all--done with it all! I’ll not stop you. Who am I - to keep a man from his sweet rest? And yet--what of me, my son, - before you do it? What of me and this England that I am? - - SHAKESPEARE. Madam, I have not slept these five nights. I do not - know what you say. - - ELIZABETH. Or care? - - SHAKESPEARE. Or care, Madam, forgive me! God’s pity, Madam, open - the door! - - ELIZABETH. It shall not serve you. - - SHAKESPEARE. I know it. - - ELIZABETH. She has sold you, man. - - SHAKESPEARE. I know it. Open the door! - - ELIZABETH. Come here, my son! Why do I hold you here, think you? - - SHAKESPEARE. Marlowe-- - - ELIZABETH. Tell me nothing! I’ll know nothing! Mr. Shakespeare, - where is the work I should have from you? Where is the new play? - You sold and I bought. Give me my goods! Then go! - - SHAKESPEARE. A play? You are Queen, Madam, you do not live our - lives; so I call you not pure devilish to keep me here for so - little a thing. - - ELIZABETH. Yet I will have it from you! There’s paper, pen-- - I’ll have your roughed-out scene ere Henslowe leaves - To-night. And ere the ended month this play, - This English laughter, ringing all her bells, - Before the pick of Europe at my court - Performed, shall link our hands with Italy, - With old immortal Athens. This you’ll do, - For this you can. - - SHAKESPEARE [_crying out_]. I am to live, not write, - To love, not write of love, to live my life - As others do, to live a summer life - As all the others do! - - ELIZABETH. I thought so too - When I was young. Then, ’mid my state affairs - And droning voices of my ministers, - The people’s acclamation and the hiss - Of treacheries to England and to me, - Ever I heard the momentary clock - Ticking away my girlhood as I reigned; - While she--while she-- - Mary of Scotland, Mary of delight, - (I know her sweetheart names) Maybird, Mayflower, - The three times married honeysuckle queen, - She had her youth. Think you I’d not have changed, - Sat out her twenty years a prisoner, - Ridden her road from France to Fotheringay, - To have her story? Am I less woman, I, - That I’d not change with her? For the high way - Is flowerless, and thin the mountain air - And rends the lungs that breathe it; and the light - Spreading from hill to everlasting hill, - Welling across the sky as from a wound, - A heart of blood between the breasts of the world, - Is not much nearer, no, nor half as warm - As the kissing sun of the valleys: and we climb - (You’ll climb as I do) not because we will, - Because we must. There is no virtue in it; - But some pride. Fate can force but not befool me! - I am not drunken with religious dream - Like the poor blissful fools of kingdom come: - I know the flesh is sweetest, when all’s said, - And summer’s heyday and the love of men: - I know well what I lose. I’m head of the Church - And stoop my neck on Sunday--to what Christ? - The God of little children? I have none. - The God of love? What love has come to me? - The God upon His ass? I am not meek, - Nor is he meek, the stallion that I ride, - The great white horse of England. I’ll not bow - To the gentle Jesus of the women, I-- - But to the man who hung ’twixt earth and heaven - Six mortal hours, and knew the end (as strength - And custom was) three days away, yet ruled - His soul and body so, that when the sponge - Blessed his cracked lips with promise of relief - And quick oblivion, he would not drink: - He turned his head away and would not drink: - Spat out the anodyne and would not drink. - This was a god for kings and queens of pride, - And him I follow. - - SHAKESPEARE. Whither? - - ELIZABETH. The alley’s blind. - For the cross rules us or we rule the cross, - Yet the cross wins in the end. - For night is older than the daylight is: - The slack string will not quiver for the hand - Of cunningest musician. - Does the cross care, a chafer on a pin, - Whether Barabbas writhe, or very God? - All’s one to the dead wood! Dead wood, dead wood, - It coffins us in the end. God, you and me - And everyone--the dead wood baffles all. - And why I care I know not, but I know - That I’ll die fighting--and the fight goes on. - Yet not uncaptained shall the assault go on - Against dead wood fencing the hearts of men. - For this I chose you. - I am a barren woman. Mary’s child - Reigns after me in England. Yet, to-night, - I crown my heir. I, England, crown my son. - - SHAKESPEARE. There was a better man but yesterday-- - To him the crown! King was he of all song. - - ELIZABETH. He’s king now of the silence after song, - When the last bell-note hovers, like a high - And starry rocket that dissolves in stars, - Lost ere they reach us. He is lord of that - For ever. - - SHAKESPEARE. He--he had the luck; but I, - But England was not lucky. - - ELIZABETH. Be assured - Had England chosen Marlowe, here to-night - England had crowned him, and you in Surrey ditch - Had lain where he lies, dead, my dead son, dead. - Take you the kingship on you! - - SHAKESPEARE. A player-king-- - - ELIZABETH. As I a player-queen! I play my part - Not ill, not ill. Judge me, my English peer, - And witness for me, that I play not ill - My part! And if by night, unseen, I weep, - Scourging my spirit down the track of the years, - Hating the name of Mary, as she said; - Yet comes and goes my hour, and comes again, - My hour, when I bear England in my breast - As God Almighty bears His universe, - England moves in me, I for England speak, - As I speak now. It is not the shut door, - But I, but England, holds you prisoner. - - SHAKESPEARE. But to what service, England, and what end? - - ELIZABETH. I send my ships where never ships have sailed, - To break the barriers and make wide the ways - For the after world. - Send you your ships to the hidden lands of the soul, - To break the barriers and make plain the ways - Between man and man. Why else were we two born? - - SHAKESPEARE. What’s the worth of a play? - - ELIZABETH. My ships are not so great - And ride not like firm islands of dry land - As Philip’s do; yet these my cockle-boats - Have used the vast world as a village pound, - And fished for treasure above the planets’ bed - In the drowned palaces where, water-bleached, - Atlantis gleams as gleams the skull-white moon, - Rolled in the overwhelming tides of time - Hither and down the beaches of the sky. - Send out your thoughts as I send out my men, - To earn a world for England!--paying first - The toll of the pioneer. I do not cheat. - Here is the bill--reckon it ere you pay! - - SHAKESPEARE. Have I not paid? - - ELIZABETH. Nay, hourly, till you die. - I tell you, you shall toss upon your bed - Crying “Let me sleep!” as men cry “Let me live!” - And sleeping you shall still cry “Mary! Mary!” - This will not pass. Think not the sun that wakes - The birds in England and the daisy-lawns, - Draws up the meadow fog like prayer to heaven, - And curls the smoke in cottage chimney stacks, - Shall once forget to wake you with a warm - And kissing breath! The four walls shall repeat - The name upon your lips, and in your heart - The name, the one name, like a knife shall turn. - These are your dawns. _I_ tell you, I who know. - Nor shall day spare you. All your prospering years, - The tasteless honours for yourself--not her-- - The envy in men’s voices, (if they knew - The beggar that they envied!) all this shall stab, - Stab, stab, and stab again. And little things - Shall hurt you so: stray words in books you read, - And jests of strangers never meant to hurt you: - The lovers in the shadow of your fence, - Their faces hid, shall thrust a spare hand out, - The other held, to stab you as you pass: - And oh, the cry of children when they play! - You shall put grief in irons and lock it up, - And at the door set laughter for a guard, - Yet dance through life on knives and never rest, - While England knows you for a lucky man. - These are your days. I tell you, I, a queen, - Ruling myself and half a world. I know - What fate is laid upon you. Carry it! - Or, if you choose, flinch, weaken, and fall down, - Lie flat and howl, and let the ones that love you - (Not burdened less) half carry it and you! - Will you do that? Proud man, will you do that? - - SHAKESPEARE. Because you are all woman-- - - ELIZABETH. Have you seen it? - None other sees. - - SHAKESPEARE. --and not as you’re the Queen, - I’ll let you be the tongue to my own soul, - Yet not for long I’ll bear it. - - ELIZABETH. To each his angel - For good or ill. - Women to a man, the man to a woman ever - Mated or fated. I am this fate to you, - As to me once a fallen star you knew not. - It’s long ago. You should have known the man. - He was the glory of the English night, - Its red star in decline. For see what came-- - His fires were earthy and he choked himself - In his own ash. Not good but goodly was he, - A natural prince of the world: and he had been one - Had he been other, or I blind, or--Mary. - Lucifer! Lucifer! He loved me not, - But would have used me. Well--he used me not. - He died. I loved him. This between us two. - Bury it deep! - - SHAKESPEARE. Deep as my sorrow lies. - But Queen, what cometh after? - - ELIZABETH. Work. - - SHAKESPEARE. And after? - - ELIZABETH. Sleep comes for me. - - SHAKESPEARE. And after? - - ELIZABETH. Sleep for you. - - SHAKESPEARE. And after? - - ELIZABETH. Nothing. Only the blessed sleep. - - SHAKESPEARE. And so ends all? - - ELIZABETH. And so all ends. - - SHAKESPEARE. Love ends? - - ELIZABETH. And so love ends. - - SHAKESPEARE. I have a word to say. - Give me this crown and reach the sceptre here! - The end’s not yet, but yet the end is mine; - For I know what I am and what I do - At last! Give me my pen, ere the spark dies - That lights me! And now leave me! - - _He turns to the table and his work._ - - ELIZABETH [_loudly_]. Open the door! - - SHAKESPEARE. Sesame, sesame! A word to say-- - - _The door is flung open and the long passage is seen._ - - O darkness, did she pass between your walls, - And left no picture on the empty air, - No echo of her step that waits for mine - To wake it in a message? What do I here? - “A word to say”! There’s nothing left but words. - - ELIZABETH _has descended from her throne and - crossing the room, pauses a moment beside him._ - - ELIZABETH. Is the harness heavy--heavy? - - SHAKESPEARE. Heavy as lead. - Heavy as a heart. - - ELIZABETH. It will not lighten. - - SHAKESPEARE. Go! [_She goes out._] - I had a word to say. - Oh, spark that burned but now--! - - ANNE’S VOICE. It dips, it dies-- - - SHAKESPEARE. A night-light, fool, and not a star. I grope - Giddily in the dark. I shall grow old. - What is my sum? I have made seven plays, - Two poems and some sonnets. I have friends - So long as I write poems, sonnets, plays. - Earn then your loves, and as you like it--write! - Come, what’s your will? - Three sets of lovers and a duke or two, - Courtiers and fool--We’ll set it in a wood, - Half park, half orchard, like the woods at home. - See the house rustle, pit gape, boxes thrill, - As through the trees, boyishly, hand on hip, - Knee-deep in grass, zone-deep in margarets, - Comes to us--Mary! - - ANNE’S VOICE. Under the apple-trees, - In the spring, in the long grass--Will! - - SHAKESPEARE. Still the old shame - Hangs round my neck with withered arms and chokes - Endeavour. - - ANNE’S VOICE. Will! - - SHAKESPEARE. At right wing enter ghost! - It should be Marlowe with his parted mouth - And sweep of arm. Why should he wake for me? - That would be friendship, and what a friend was I! - Well--to the work! - - ANNE’S VOICE. Will! Will! - - SHAKESPEARE. What, ghost? still there? - Must I speak first? That’s manners with the dead; - But this haunt lives--at Stratford, by the river. - Maggot, come out of my brain! Girl! Echo! Wraith! - You’ve had free lodging, like a rat, too long. - I need my room. Come, show yourself and go! - “Changed?” “But I knew her!”--Say your say and go! - You’d a tongue once. - - ANNE’S VOICE. You’re to be great-- - - SHAKESPEARE. Stale! Stale! - That’s the Queen’s catch-word. - - ANNE’S VOICE. But I know, I know, - I’m your poor village woman, but I know - What you must learn and learn, and shriek to God - To spare you learning-- - - SHAKESPEARE. Ay, like wheels that shriek, - Carting the grain, their dragged unwilling way - Over the stones, uphill, at even, thus, - Shrieking, I learn-- - - ANNE’S VOICE. When harvest comes-- - - SHAKESPEARE. Is come! - Sown, sprouted, scythed and garnered-- - - ANNE’S VOICE. I alone - Can give you comfort, for you reap my pain, - As I your loss--loss--loss-- - - SHAKESPEARE. Anne, was it thus? - - ANNE’S VOICE. No other way-- - - SHAKESPEARE. Such pain? - - ANNE’S VOICE. Such pain, such pain! - - SHAKESPEARE. I did not know. O tortured thing, remember, - I did not know--I did not know! Forgive-- - - ANNE’S VOICE. Forgiving is forgetting--no, come back! - I love you. Oh, come back to me, come back! - - SHAKESPEARE. I cannot. - - ANNE’S VOICE. Oh, come back! I love you so. - - SHAKESPEARE. Be still, poor voice, be still! - - ANNE’S VOICE. I love you so. - - SHAKESPEARE. What is this love? - What is this awful spirit and unknown, - That mates the suns and gives a bird his tune? - What is this stirring at the roots of the world? - What is this secret child that leaps in the womb - Of life? What is this wind, whence does it blow, - And why? And falls upon us like the flame - Of Pentecost, haphazard. What is this dire - And holy ghost that will not let us two - For no prayers’ sake nor good deeds’ sake nor pain - Nor pity, have peace, and live at ease, and die - As the leaves die? - - ANNE’S VOICE. I know not. All I know, - Is that I love you. - - SHAKESPEARE. But I know, having learned-- - This I believe because I know, I know, - Being in hell, paying the price, alone, - Licked in the flame unspeakable and torn - By devils, as in the old tales that are true-- - All true, the fires, the red hot branding irons, - The thirst, the laughter, and the filth of shame, - All true, O fellow men! all true, all true-- - Down through the circles, like a mangled rat - A hawk lets fall from the far towers of the sky, - Down through the wakeful æons of the night, - Into the Pit of misery they call - Bottomless, falling--I believe and know - That the Pit’s bottom is the lap of God, - And God is love. - - ANNE’S VOICE. Is love, is love-- - - SHAKESPEARE. I know. - And knowing I will live my dark days out - And wait for His own evening to give light. - And though I may not fill the mouth I love, - Yet will I sow and reap and bind my sheaves, - Glean, garner, mill my corn, and bake, and cast - My bread upon the waters of the age. - This will I do for love’s sake, lest God’s eyes, - That are the Judgment, ask her man of her - One day, and she be shamed--as I am shamed - Ever, in my heart, by a voice witnessing - Against me that I knew not love. - - PAGE [_entering with lights_]. The Queen, sir, - Has sent you candles, now the sun is down, - That you may see to work. - - SHAKESPEARE. I thank the Queen. - Tell her the work goes well! - - _He sits down at the table._ - - Act one, scene one, - Oliver’s house. It _shall_ go well. I have - A strength that comes I know not whence. It _shall_ - Go well. And then I’ll give the Roman tale - I heard at school--a tale of men, not women: - That easies all. But Antony goes on - To Egypt and a gipsy: leaves his pale wife - At home to scald her eyes out. Mary--Mary-- - Will you not let me be? It _shall_ go well. - And after Antony some Twelfth Night trick - To please our gods and give my pregnancy - Its needed peace. How many months for Denmark? - And then? A whole man laughs, and so will I. - Oh, Smile behind the thunder, teach me laughter, - And save my soul!-- - The knock-about fat man, try him again! - He’ll take a month or less--candles are cheap, - Cheaper than sleep these dreaming nights. That done, - I’ll sink another shaft in Holinshed-- - Marlowe, your diamonds! your diamonds! - The king and his three daughters--he’s been shaped - Already. True! But rough-cut only. Wait! - Give me that giant cluster in my hand - To cut anew, in its own midnight set, - It shall outshine Orion! Afterwards, - A fairy tale maybe, and after that-- - And after that--and after--after? God! - The years before me! And no Mary! Mary-- - - ANNE’S VOICE. When her lost face-- - - SHAKESPEARE. It shall, it shall go well. - - ANNE’S VOICE. --stares from the page you toil upon, thus, thus, - In a glass of tears-- - - SHAKESPEARE. They scald, they blind my view, - No comfort anywhere. - - ANNE’S VOICE. I love you so. - - SHAKESPEARE. The work, the work remains. - - ANNE’S VOICE. But when you’re old, - For work too old, or pity, love or hate, - For anything but peace, and in your hand - Lies the crowned life victorious at last-- - - SHAKESPEARE. Like the crowned Indian fruit, the voyage home - Rots while it gilds, not worth the tasting-- - - ANNE’S VOICE. Then, - Remember me! Then, then, when all your need - Is hands to serve you and a breast to die on, - Come back to me! - - SHAKESPEARE. God knows--some day? - - ANNE’S VOICE. I wait. - - _As he stoops over his work again_ - - THE CURTAIN FALLS. - - _January, 1920--April, 1921._ - - PRINTED IN GREAT BRITAIN BY WOODS AND SONS, LTD., LONDON, N.1. - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Will Shakespeare, by Clemence Dane - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WILL SHAKESPEARE *** - -***** This file should be named 50712-0.txt or 50712-0.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/0/7/1/50712/ - -Produced by Andrew Sly, Paul Marshall, Al Haines and the -Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm -concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, -and may not be used if you charge for the eBooks, unless you receive -specific permission. If you do not charge anything for copies of this -eBook, complying with the rules is very easy. You may use this eBook -for nearly any purpose such as creation of derivative works, reports, -performances and research. They may be modified and printed and given -away--you may do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks -not protected by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the -trademark license, especially commercial redistribution. - -START: FULL LICENSE - -THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE -PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK - -To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free -distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work -(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full -Project Gutenberg-tm License available with this file or online at -www.gutenberg.org/license. - -Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works - -1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to -and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property -(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all -the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or -destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your -possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a -Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound -by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the -person or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph -1.E.8. - -1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be -used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who -agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few -things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See -paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this -agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below. - -1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the -Foundation" or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection -of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual -works in the collection are in the public domain in the United -States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the -United States and you are located in the United States, we do not -claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing, -displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as -all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope -that you will support the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting -free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm -works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the -Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with the work. You can easily -comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the -same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg-tm License when -you share it without charge with others. - -1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern -what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are -in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, -check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this -agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, -distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any -other Project Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no -representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any -country outside the United States. - -1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: - -1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other -immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear -prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work -on which the phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the -phrase "Project Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, -performed, viewed, copied or distributed: - - This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and - most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no - restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it - under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this - eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the - United States, you'll have to check the laws of the country where you - are located before using this ebook. - -1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is -derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not -contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the -copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in -the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are -redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply -either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or -obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg-tm -trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted -with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution -must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any -additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms -will be linked to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works -posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the -beginning of this work. - -1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm -License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this -work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. - -1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this -electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without -prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with -active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project -Gutenberg-tm License. - -1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, -compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including -any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access -to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format -other than "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official -version posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site -(www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense -to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means -of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original "Plain -Vanilla ASCII" or other form. Any alternate format must include the -full Project Gutenberg-tm License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. - -1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, -performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works -unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing -access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -provided that - -* You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from - the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method - you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed - to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he has - agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid - within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are - legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty - payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in - Section 4, "Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg - Literary Archive Foundation." - -* You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies - you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he - does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm - License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all - copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue - all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg-tm - works. - -* You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of - any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the - electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of - receipt of the work. - -* You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free - distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. - -1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work or group of works on different terms than -are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing -from both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and The -Project Gutenberg Trademark LLC, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm -trademark. Contact the Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. - -1.F. - -1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable -effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread -works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project -Gutenberg-tm collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may -contain "Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate -or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other -intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or -other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or -cannot be read by your equipment. - -1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right -of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project -Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all -liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal -fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT -LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE -PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE -TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE -LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR -INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH -DAMAGE. - -1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a -defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can -receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a -written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you -received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium -with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you -with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in -lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person -or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second -opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If -the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing -without further opportunities to fix the problem. - -1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth -in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO -OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT -LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. - -1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied -warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of -damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement -violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the -agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or -limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or -unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the -remaining provisions. - -1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the -trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone -providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in -accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the -production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, -including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of -the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this -or any Project Gutenberg-tm work, (b) alteration, modification, or -additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any -Defect you cause. - -Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm - -Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of -electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of -computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It -exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations -from people in all walks of life. - -Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the -assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's -goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will -remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure -and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future -generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see -Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at -www.gutenberg.org - - - -Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation - -The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit -501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the -state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal -Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification -number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by -U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. - -The Foundation's principal office is in Fairbanks, Alaska, with the -mailing address: PO Box 750175, Fairbanks, AK 99775, but its -volunteers and employees are scattered throughout numerous -locations. Its business office is located at 809 North 1500 West, Salt -Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up to -date contact information can be found at the Foundation's web site and -official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact - -For additional contact information: - - Dr. Gregory B. Newby - Chief Executive and Director - gbnewby@pglaf.org - -Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation - -Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide -spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of -increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be -freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest -array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations -($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt -status with the IRS. - -The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating -charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United -States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a -considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up -with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations -where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND -DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular -state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate - -While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we -have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition -against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who -approach us with offers to donate. - -International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make -any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from -outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. - -Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation -methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other -ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To -donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate - -Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. - -Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project -Gutenberg-tm concept of a library of electronic works that could be -freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and -distributed Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of -volunteer support. - -Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed -editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in -the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not -necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper -edition. - -Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search -facility: www.gutenberg.org - -This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. - diff --git a/old/50712-0.zip b/old/50712-0.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index d333117..0000000 --- a/old/50712-0.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/50712-h.zip b/old/50712-h.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 47f311e..0000000 --- a/old/50712-h.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/50712-h/50712-h.htm b/old/50712-h/50712-h.htm deleted file mode 100644 index f117585..0000000 --- a/old/50712-h/50712-h.htm +++ /dev/null @@ -1,6282 +0,0 @@ -<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" - "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> -<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> - <head> - <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=utf-8" /> - <meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> - <title> - The Project Gutenberg eBook of Will Shakespeare (An Invention), by Clemence Dane. - </title> - <link rel="coverpage" href="images/cover.jpg" /> - <style type="text/css"> - -body { - margin-left: 2%; - margin-right: 10%; -} - - h1,h2,h3 { text-align: center; - clear: both; } - -h1 {page-break-before: always; } -h2 {page-break-before: avoid;} - -.break1 {page-break-after: always; } - -p { margin-top: .51em; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0em; margin-bottom: .49em; } -p.f90_wide { font-size: 90%; text-align: left; text-indent: 0em; margin-left: 25%;} -p.f110 { font-size: 110%; text-align: center; text-indent: 0em; } -p.f120 { font-size: 120%; text-align: center; text-indent: 0em; } -p.f150 { font-size: 150%; text-align: center; text-indent: 0em; } -p.f200 { font-size: 200%; text-align: center; text-indent: 0em; } - -hr.r5 {width: 5%; margin-top: 1em; margin-bottom: 1em; - margin-left: 47.5%; margin-right: 47.5%; } -hr.r25 {width: 25%; margin-top: 3em; margin-bottom: 3em; - margin-left: 37.5%; margin-right: 37.5%; } -hr.chap {width: 65%; margin-left: 17.5%; margin-right: 17.5%; } -hr.full {width: 95%; margin-left: 2.5%; margin-right: 2.5%; } - -.space-above1 { margin-top: 1em; } -.space-above2 { margin-top: 2em; } -.space-above3 { margin-top: 3em; } - -.space-below3 { margin-bottom: 3em; } - -table { - margin-left: auto; - margin-right: auto; -} - - .tdl {text-align: left;} - .tdr {text-align: right;} - .tdc {text-align: center;} - -.pagenum { /* visibility: hidden; */ - position: absolute; - right: 5%; - font-size: 0.7em; - text-align: left; - text-indent: 0em; } - -.blockquot { - margin-left: 5%; - margin-right: 10%; } - -.blockquot_intro { - margin-left: 5%; - margin-right: 10%; - text-indent: -2em; } - -.chapter {page-break-before: always;} -.center {text-align: center; - text-indent: 0; } -.smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} - -.figcenter { - margin: auto; - text-align: center; -} - -.poem { - margin-left:0%; - margin-right:10%; - text-align: left; -} - -.poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} - - .poem span.i0 {display: block; margin-left: 0em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} - .poem span.i5 {display: block; margin-left: 2.5em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} - .poem span.i6 {display: block; margin-left: 3em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} - .poem span.i7 {display: block; margin-left: 3.5em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} - .poem span.i8 {display: block; margin-left: 4em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} - .poem span.i9 {display: block; margin-left: 4.5em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} - .poem span.i10 {display: block; margin-left: 5em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} - .poem span.i11 {display: block; margin-left: 5.5em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} - .poem span.i12 {display: block; margin-left: 6em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} - .poem span.i13 {display: block; margin-left: 6.5em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} - .poem span.i14 {display: block; margin-left: 7em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} - .poem span.i15 {display: block; margin-left: 7.5em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} - .poem span.i16 {display: block; margin-left: 8em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} - .poem span.i17 {display: block; margin-left: 8.5em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} - .poem span.i18 {display: block; margin-left: 9em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} - .poem span.i19 {display: block; margin-left: 9.5em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} - .poem span.i20 {display: block; margin-left: 10em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} - .poem span.i21 {display: block; margin-left: 10.5em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} - .poem span.i22 {display: block; margin-left: 11em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} - .poem span.i23 {display: block; margin-left: 11.5em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} - .poem span.i24 {display: block; margin-left: 12em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} - .poem span.i25 {display: block; margin-left: 12.5em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} - .poem span.i26 {display: block; margin-left: 13em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} - .poem span.i27 {display: block; margin-left: 13.5em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} - .poem span.i28 {display: block; margin-left: 14em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} - .poem span.i29 {display: block; margin-left: 14.5em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} - .poem span.i30 {display: block; margin-left: 15em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} - .poem span.i35 {display: block; margin-left: 17.5em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} - .poem span.i37 {display: block; margin-left: 18.5em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} - .poem span.i48 {display: block; margin-left: 24em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} - -span.m4 {display: block; margin-left: 2em;} -span.m6 {display: block; margin-left: 3em;} -span.m12 {display: block; margin-left: 6em;} -span.m14 {display: block; margin-left: 7em;} - -span.ws2 { padding-left: 2em;} -span.ws2_5 { padding-left: 2.5em;} -span.ws3 { padding-left: 3em;} -span.ws3_5 { padding-left: 3.5em;} -span.ws4 { padding-left: 4em;} -span.ws9 { padding-left: 9em;} - -.transnote {background-color: #E6E6FA; - color: black; - font-size:smaller; - padding:0.5em; - margin-bottom:5em; - font-family:sans-serif, serif; } - </style> - </head> -<body> - - -<pre> - -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Will Shakespeare, by Clemence Dane - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: Will Shakespeare - An Invention in Four Acts - -Author: Clemence Dane - -Release Date: December 17, 2015 [EBook #50712] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WILL SHAKESPEARE *** - - - - -Produced by Andrew Sly, Paul Marshall, Al Haines and the -Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - - - - - - -</pre> - -<p class="f90_wide space-above1"><i>BY THE SAME AUTHOR</i><br /><br /> -<i>NOVELS</i>:<br /> -<span class="m6"><i>REGIMENT OF WOMEN</i></span> -<span class="m6"><i>FIRST THE BLADE</i></span> -<span class="m6"><i>LEGEND</i></span><br /> -<i>PLAY</i>:<br /> -<span class="m6"><i>A BILL OF DIVORCEMENT</i></span><br /> - <i>LONDON: WILLIAM HEINEMANN</i></p> - -<hr class="full" /> -<h1>WILL SHAKESPEARE<br /><small>AN INVENTION IN FOUR ACTS</small></h1> - -<p class="f120 space-above3"><b>BY</b></p> -<p class="f200 space-below3"><b>CLEMENCE DANE</b></p> - -<div class="figcenter break1"> - <img src="images/i_002.jpg" alt="1921" width="600" height="182" /> -</div> - -<p class="f120">‘<i>There’s a divinity that shapes our ends,<br /> - Rough-hew them how we will.</i>’</p> -<p class="f120 break1"><span class="smcap m12">Shakespeare.</span></p> -<hr class="r5" /> -<table border="0" cellspacing="2" summary="_" cellpadding="0"> - <tbody><tr><td class="tdc"><big>THE PEOPLE OF THE PLAY</big></td> - </tr><tr><td class="tdc"><i>As they appear.</i></td> - </tr><tr><td class="tdl"><br /><span class="smcap m4">Anne Hathaway.</span></td> - </tr><tr><td class="tdl"><span class="smcap m4">Will Shakespeare.</span></td> - </tr><tr><td class="tdl"><span class="smcap m4">Mrs. Hathaway.</span></td> - </tr><tr><td class="tdl"><span class="smcap m4">Henslowe.</span></td> - </tr><tr><td class="tdl"><span class="smcap m4">A Child.</span></td> - </tr><tr><td class="tdl"><span class="smcap m4">Players.</span></td> - </tr><tr><td class="tdl"><span class="smcap m4">Queen Elizabeth.</span></td> - </tr><tr><td class="tdl"><span class="smcap m4">Mary Fitton.</span></td> - </tr><tr><td class="tdl"><span class="smcap m4">Kit Marlowe.</span></td> - </tr><tr><td class="tdl"><span class="smcap m4">Stage Hands.</span></td> - </tr><tr><td class="tdl"><span class="smcap m4">A Boy.</span></td> - </tr><tr><td class="tdl"><span class="smcap m4">A Landlord.</span></td> - </tr><tr><td class="tdl"><span class="smcap m4">A Man.</span></td> - </tr><tr><td class="tdl"><span class="smcap m4">Another Man.</span></td> - </tr><tr><td class="tdl"><span class="smcap m4">A Girl.</span></td> - </tr><tr><td class="tdl"><span class="smcap m4">A Street Hawker.</span></td> - </tr><tr><td class="tdl"><span class="smcap m4">A Page.</span></td> - </tr><tr><td class="tdl"><span class="smcap m4">Soldiers, Attendants, etc.</span></td> - </tr> - </tbody> -</table> - -<div class="blockquot"> - -<p><a href="#ACT_I">ACT I.</a> —<span class="smcap">A Cottage in Stratford.</span></p> - -<p><a href="#ACT_II">ACT II.</a> —<span class="smcap">Ten Years Later</span>—<br /> -<span class="m6"><i>Scene 1</i>. <span class="smcap">A Room in the Palace.</span></span> -<span class="m6"><a href="#ACT_II_2"><i>Scene 2</i></a>. <span class="smcap">Three Months Later—</span></span> -<span class="m14"><span class="smcap">the First Night of “Romeo and Juliet.”</span></span></p> - -<p><a href="#ACT_III">ACT III.</a> —<br /> -<span class="m6"><i>Scene 1</i>. <span class="smcap">A Month Later—Shakespeare’s Lodging.</span></span> -<span class="m6"><a href="#ACT_III_2"><i>Scene 2</i></a>. <span class="smcap">The Same Night—A Room at an Inn.</span></span></p> - -<p><a href="#ACT_IV">ACT IV.</a> —<span class="smcap">The Next Day—A State Room in the Palace.</span></p></div> - -<p class="space-above2">The Play was first acted at the Shaftesbury Theatre, London, -on November 17th, 1921, by the Reandean Company, with the following cast:—</p> - -<table border="0" cellspacing="2" summary="_" cellpadding="0"> - <tbody><tr> - <td class="tdl">WILL SHAKESPEARE</td> - <td class="tdr">Mr. Philip Merivale</td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdl">ANNE</td> - <td class="tdr">  Miss Moyna Macgill</td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdl">Mrs. HATHAWAY</td> - <td class="tdr">Miss Mary Rorke</td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdl">HENSLOWE</td> - <td class="tdr">Mr. Arthur Whitby</td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdl">QUEEN ELIZABETH</td> - <td class="tdr">Miss Haidee Wright</td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdl">MARY FITTON</td> - <td class="tdr">Miss Mary Clare</td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdl">KIT MARLOWE</td> - <td class="tdr">Mr. Claude Rains</td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdl"><br />A CHILD ACTOR</td> - <td class="tdr"><br />Master Eric Spear</td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdl">A SECRETARY</td> - <td class="tdr">Mr. Arthur Bawtree</td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdl">A STAGE HAND</td> - <td class="tdr">Mr. Gilbert Ritchie</td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdl">A BOY</td> - <td class="tdr">Master Spear</td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdl">A LANDLORD</td> - <td class="tdr">Mr. Ivor Barnard</td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdl">A LADY-IN-WAITING</td> - <td class="tdr">Miss Joan Maclean</td> - </tr> - </tbody> -</table> - -<table border="0" cellspacing="2" summary="_" cellpadding="0"> - <tbody><tr> - <td colspan="4" class="tdc"><br /><i>Shadows in Act I.</i></td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdl">Ophelia</td> - <td class="tdr">Miss Lennie Pride</td> - <td class="tdl"><span class="ws2">Shylock</span></td> - <td class="tdr">Mr. Gilbert Ritchie</td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdl">Desdemona</td> - <td class="tdr">Miss Gladys Jessel</td> - <td class="tdl"><span class="ws2">Clown</span></td> - <td class="tdr">Mr. Ivor Barnard</td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdl">Othello</td> - <td class="tdr">Mr. Herbert Young</td> - <td class="tdl"><span class="ws2">Hamlet</span></td> - <td class="tdr">Mr. Neil Curtis</td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdl">Queen Margaret</td> - <td class="tdr">Miss Flora Robson</td> - <td class="tdl"><span class="ws2">Caesar</span></td> - <td class="tdr">Mr. Arthur Bawtree</td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdl">Prince Arthur</td> - <td class="tdr">Mr. Eric Crosbie</td> - <td class="tdl"><span class="ws2">Cleopatra</span></td> - <td class="tdr">Miss Mai Ashley</td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdl">Rosalind</td> - <td class="tdr">Miss Phyllis Fabian</td> - <td class="tdl"><span class="ws2">King Lear</span></td> - <td class="tdr">Mr. Fred Morgan</td> - </tr><tr> - <td colspan="2" rowspan="3" class="tdr"><br />The Three Fates</td> - <td colspan="2" class="tdl"><br /> { Miss Nora Robinson</td> - </tr><tr> - <td colspan="2" class="tdl"> { Miss Gladys Gray</td> - </tr><tr> - <td colspan="2" class="tdl"> { Miss Beatrice Smith</td> - </tr> - </tbody> -</table> -<hr class="r25" /> -<p class="f110"><i>Strolling Players, Beefeaters, Stage Hands,<br />Drinkers, -Court Attendants, etc.</i></p> -<hr class="r25" /> -<p class="center"> -The Production by BASIL DEAN.<br /> -The Music by THOMAS WOOD.<br /> -Designs for the Scenery and Dresses by GEORGE HARRIS. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[Pg 1]</a></span> -</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="ACT_I">ACT I.</h2> -</div> - -<p class="blockquot_intro"><i>The curtain rises on the living -room of a sixteenth century cottage. The walls and ceiling are of -black beams and white-washed plaster. On the left is a large oven -fireplace with logs burning. Beyond it is a door. At the back is -another door and a mullioned window half open giving a glimpse of -bare garden hedge and winter sky. On the right wall is a staircase -running down from the ceiling into the room, a dresser and a light -shelf holding a book or two. Under the shelf is a small table piled -with papers, ink-stand, sand box and so on. At it sits</i> <span -class="smcap">Shakespeare</span>, <i>his elbows on his papers, his head -in his hands, absorbed. He is a boy of twenty but looks older. He -is dark and slight. His voice is low, but, he speaks very clearly. -Behind him</i> <span class="smcap">Anne Hathaway</span> <i>moves to and -fro from dresser to the central table, laying a meal. She is a -slender, pale woman with reddish hair. Her movements are quick and -furtive and she has a high sweet voice that shrills too easily.</i></p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne</span> [<i>hesitating, with little pauses between the sentences</i>].</span> -<span class="i13">Supper is ready, Will! Will, did you hear?</span> -<span class="i13">A farm-bird—Mother brought it. Won’t you come?</span> -<span class="i13">She’s crying in for the basket presently.</span> -<span class="i13">First primroses! Here, smell! Sweet, aren’t they? Bread?</span> -<span class="i13">Are the snow wreaths gone from the fields? Did you go far?</span> -<span class="i13">Are you wet? Was it cold? There’s black frost in the air,</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[Pg 2]</a></span> -<span class="i13">My mother says, and spring hangs dead on the boughs—</span> -<span class="i13">Oh, you might answer when I speak to you!</span> -<span class="i23"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare</span> <i>gets up quickly.</i></span> -<span class="i13">Where are you going?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Out!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws4">Where?</span></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Anywhere—</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws4">—away from me!  Yes!  Say it!</span></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare</span> [<i>under his breath</i>].  Patience!   Patience!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">Come back! Come back! I’m sorry. Oh, come back!</span></span> -<span class="i13">I talk too much. I crossed you. You must eat.</span> -<span class="i13">Oh! Oh! I meant no harm—I meant no harm I—</span> -<span class="i13">You know?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> I know.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">Why then, come back and eat,</span></span> -<span class="i13">And talk to me. Aren’t you a boy to lose</span> -<span class="i13">All day in the woods?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> The town!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">Ah! In the town?</span></span> -<span class="i13">Ah then, you’ve talked and eaten. Yes, you can talk</span> -<span class="i13">In the town!</span> -<span class="i20"><i>He goes back to his desk.</i></span> -<span class="i13">More writing? What’s the dream to-day?</span> -<span class="i20"><i>He winces.</i></span> -<span class="i13">Oh, tell me, tell me!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> No!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">I want your dreams.</span></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</a></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> A dream’s a bubble, Anne, and yet a world,</span> -<span class="i13">Unsailed, uncharted, mine. But stretch your hand</span> -<span class="i13">To touch it—gone! And you have wet your fingers,</span> -<span class="i13">Whilst I, like Alexander, want my world—</span> -<span class="i13">And so I scold my wife.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">Oh, let me sail</span></span> -<span class="i13">Your world with you.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> One day, when all is mapped</span> -<span class="i13">On paper—</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">Now!</span></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Not yet.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">Now, now!</span></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> I cannot!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">Because you will not. Ever you shut me out.</span></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> How many are there in the listening room?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">We two.</span></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> We three.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">Will!</span></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Are there not three? Yet swift,</span> -<span class="i13">Because it is too soon, you shrink from me,</span> -<span class="i13">Guarding your mystery still; so must I guard</span> -<span class="i13">My dreams from any touch till they are born.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">What! Do you make our bond our barrier now?</span></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> See, you’re a child that clamours—“Let me taste!”</span> -<span class="i13">But laugh and let it sip your wine, it cries—</span> -<span class="i13">“I like it not. It is not sweet!”—and blames you.</span> -<span class="i13">See! even when I give you cannot take.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">Try me!</span></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Too late.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">I will not think I know</span></span> -<span class="i13">What cruelty you mean. What is’t you mean?</span> -<span class="i13">What is’t?</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</a></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> How long since we two married?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">Why,</span></span> -<span class="i13">Four months.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> And are you happy?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">Will, aren’t you?</span></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> I asked my wife.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">I am! I am! I am!</span></span> -<span class="i13">Oh, how can I be happy when I read</span> -<span class="i13">Your eyes, and read—what is it that I read?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> God knows!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">Yes, God He knows, but He’s so far away—</span></span> -<span class="i13">Tell Anne!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Touch not these cellar thoughts, half worm, half weed:</span> -<span class="i13">Give them no light, no air: be warned in time:</span> -<span class="i13">Break not the seal nor roll away the stone,</span> -<span class="i13">Lest the blind evil writhe itself heart-high</span> -<span class="i13">And its breath stale us!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">Oh, what evil?</span></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Know you not?</span> -<span class="i13">Why then I’ll say “Thank God!” and never tell you—</span> -<span class="i13">And yet I think you know?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">Am I your wife,</span></span> -<span class="i13">Wiser than your own mother in your ways</span> -<span class="i13">(For she was wise for many, I’ve but you)</span> -<span class="i13">Ways in my heart stored, and with them the unborn</span> -<span class="i13">I feed, that he may grow a second you—</span> -<span class="i13">Am I your wife, so close to you all day,</span> -<span class="i13">So close to you all night, that oft I lie</span> -<span class="i13">Counting your heart-beats—do I watch you stir</span> -<span class="i13">And cry out suddenly and clench your hand</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span> -<span class="i13">Till the bone shows white, and then you sigh and turn,</span> -<span class="i13">And sometimes smile, but never ope your eyes,</span> -<span class="i13">Nor know me with a seeking touch of hands</span> -<span class="i13">That bids me share the dream—am I your wife,</span> -<span class="i13">Can I be woman and your very wife</span> -<span class="i13">And know not you are burdened? You lock me out,</span> -<span class="i13">Yet at the door I wait, wringing my hands</span> -<span class="i13">To help you.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> You could help me; but—I know you!</span> -<span class="i13">You’d help me, in your way, to go—your way!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">The right way.</span></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Said I not, sweetheart—your way?</span> -<span class="i13">So—leave it!</span> -<span class="i17"><i>He begins to write</i>. <span class="smcap">Anne</span> <i>goes to the window</i></span> -<span class="i15"><i>and leans against it looking out.</i></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne</span> [<i>softly</i>]. Give me words! God, give me words.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Sweetheart, you stay the light.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">The pane is cool.</span></span> -<span class="i20"><i>She moves to one side.</i></span> -<span class="i13">Can you see now?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> That’s better.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i20"><i>The twang of a lute is heard.</i></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">The road dances.</span></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">A Voice</span> [<i>singing</i>]. <span class="ws3_5">Come with me to London,</span></span> -<span class="i26">Folly, come away!</span> -<span class="i24">I’ll make your fortune</span> -<span class="i26">On a fine day—</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">A stranger with my mother at the gate!</span></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i7"><i>She opens the door to</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs. Hathaway</span>, <i>who enters.</i></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">The Voice</span> [<i>nearer</i>]. <span class="ws3_5">Daisy leave and buttercup!</span></span> -<span class="i25">Pick your gold and silver up,</span> -<span class="i27">In London, in London,</span> -<span class="i27">Oh, London Town!</span> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">What have you brought us, Mother, unawares?</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Hathaway.</span> Why, I met the man in the lane and he asked -his way here. He wants Will.</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">Does he, and does he?</span></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare</span> [<i>at the window</i>].</span> -<span class="i13">One of the players. In the town I met him</span> -<span class="i13">And had some talk, and told him of my play.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">You told a stranger and a player? But I—</span></span> -<span class="i13">I am not told!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">The Voice</span> [<i>close at hand</i>].</span> -<span class="i26">For sheep can feed</span> -<span class="i26">And robins breed</span> -<span class="i26">Without you, without you,</span> -<span class="i23">And the world get on without you—</span> -<span class="i26">Oh, London Town!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i13"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare</span> <i>goes to the door.</i></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne</span> [<i>stopping him</i>]. <span class="ws3_5">What brings him here?</span></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> I bring him!</span> -<span class="i13">To my own house.  [<i>He goes out.</i>]</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Mrs. Hathaway.</span> Trouble?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">Why no! No trouble!</span></span> -<span class="i13">I am not beaten, starved, nor put on the street.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Mrs. Hathaway.</span> Be wise, be wise, for the child’s sake, be wiser!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">What shall I do? Out of your fifty years,</span></span> -<span class="i13">What shall I do to hold him?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Mrs. Hathaway.</span> <span class="ws3_5">A low voice</span></span> -<span class="i15">And a light heart is best—and not to judge.</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">Light, Mother, light? Oh, Mother, Mother, Mother!</span></span> -<span class="i13">I’m battling on the crumble-edge of loss</span> -<span class="i13">Against a seaward wind, that drives his ship</span> -<span class="i13">To fortunate isles, but carries me cliff over,</span> -<span class="i13">Clutching at flint and thistle-hold, to braise me</span> -<span class="i13">Upon the barren benches he has left</span> -<span class="i13">For ever.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i5"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare</span> <i>and the player</i>, - <span class="smcap">Henslowe</span>, <i>come in talking.</i></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Mrs. Hathaway</span> [<i>at the inner door</i>].</span> -<span class="i15">Come, find my basket for me. Let them be!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">Look at him, how his face lights up!</span></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Mrs. Hathaway.</span> Come now,</span> -<span class="i15">And leave them to it!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">I dare not, Mother, I dare not.</span></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Mrs. Hathaway.</span>  It’s not the way—a little trust—</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">I dare not.</span></span> -<span class="i16"><span class="smcap">Mrs. Hathaway</span> <i>goes out at the door by the fire.</i></span> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Henslowe</span> [<i>in talk. He is a stout, good-humoured, elderly -man, with bright eyes and a dancing step. He wears ear-rings, is -dressed shabby-handsome, and is splashed with mud. A lute is slung at -his shoulder</i>].<br /><span class="ws9">Played? It shall be played. That’s why I’m here.</span></p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne</span> [<i>behind them</i>].   Will!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare</span> [<i>turning</i>]. This is my wife.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne</span> [<i>curtseys. Then, half aside</i>]. Who is the man?</span> -<span class="i29">Where from? What is his name?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Henslowe</span> [<i>overhearing</i>]. Proteus, Madonna! A poor son of the god.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i20"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare</span> <i>laughs.</i></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">A foreigner?</span></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span> Why, yes and no! I’m from -Spain at the moment—I have castles there; but my bed-sitting -room (a green room, Madonna) is in Blackfriars. As to my means, for -I see your eye on my travel stains, I have a bank account, also in -Spain, a box-office, and the best of references. The world and his -wife employ me, the Queen comes to see me, and all the men of genius -run to be my servants. But as to who I am—O Madonna, who am I -not? I’ve played every card in the pack, beginning as the least in -the company, the mere unit, the innocent ace, running up my number -with each change of hand to Jack, Queen, King, and so to myself -again, the same mere One, but grown to my hopes. For Queen may blow -kisses, King of Hearts command all hands at court, but Ace in his -shirt-sleeves is manager and trumps them off the board at will. You -may learn from this Ace; for I think, sir, you will end as he does, -the master of your suit.</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">A fortune-teller too!</span></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span>  Will you cross my palm with a sixpence, Madonna?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">With nothing.</span></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span>  Beware lest I tell you for nothing that you—fear your fortune!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare</span> [<i>spreading his hand</i>]. Is mine worth fearing?</span> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span>  Here’s an actor’s hand, and a bad one. You’ll lose -your words, King o’ Hearts. Your great scenes will break down.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Then I’ll be ’prenticed direct to the Ace.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span>  Too fast. You must come to cues like the rest of us, -and play out your part, before you can be God Almighty in the -wings—as God himself found out when the world was youngish.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">We’re plain people, sir, and my husband works his farm.</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span>  And sings songs? I’ve been trying out a new play -in the provinces before we risk London and Gloriana—</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">What! the Queen! the Queen?</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span>  Oh, she keeps her eye on poor players as well as on -Burleigh and the fleet. <i>There’s</i> God Almighty in the wings if you like! But as I say—</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i15">Whatever barn we storm, here in the west,</span> -<span class="i15">We’re marching to the echo of new songs,</span> -<span class="i15">Jigged out in taverns, trolled along the street,</span> -<span class="i15">Loosed under sweetheart windows, whistled and sighed</span> -<span class="i15">Wherever a farmer’s boy in Lover’s Lane</span> -<span class="i15">Shifts from the right foot to the left and waits—</span> -<span class="i15">“Where did you hear it?” say I, beating time:</span> -<span class="i15">And always comes the answer—“Stratford way!”</span> -<span class="i15">A green parish, Stratford!</span> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Too flat, though I love it. -Give me hills to climb!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span> Flat? You should see Norfolk, -where I was a boy. From sky to sky there’s no break in the levels -but shock-head willows and reed tussocks where a singing bird may -nest. But in which? Oh, for that you must sit unstirring in your -boat, between still water and still sky, while the drips run off your -blade until, a yard away, uprises the song. Then, flash! part the -rushes—the nest is bare and the bird your own! Oh, I know the -ways of the water birds! And so, hearing of a cygnet on the banks of -Avon—</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">Ah!</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span>  You’re right, Madonna, the poetical vein runs dry. -So I’ll end with a plain question—“Is not Thames broader than Avon?”</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Muddier—</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span>  But a magical water to hasten the moult, to wash -white a young swan’s feathers.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Or black, Mephisto!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span>  Black swans are rarest. I saw one when I was last -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span> -in London. London’s a great city! Madonna, you should send your -husband to market in London, and in a twelvemonth he’ll bring you -home the world in his pocket as it might be a russet apple.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">What should we do with the world, sir, here in Stratford?</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span>  Why, seed it and sow it, and plant it in your garden, -and it’ll grow into the tree of knowledge.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Anne</span> [<i>turning away</i>].  My garden is planted already.</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Henslowe</span> [<i>in a low voice</i>],</span> -<span class="i15">The black swan seeks a mate, black swan.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> A woman?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne</span> [<i>turning sharply</i>].  What did he say to you?</span> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span>  Why, that a woman can -make her fortune in London as well as a man. There’s one came lately -to court, but sixteen and a mere knight’s daughter, without a penny -piece, and you should see her now! The men at her feet—</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">And the women—?</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span>  Under her heel.</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">What does the Queen say?</span></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span> <span class="ws3_5">Winks and lets her be,</span></span> -<span class="i13">A fashion out of fashion—gipsy-black</span> -<span class="i13">Among the ladies with their bracken hair,</span> -<span class="i13">(The Queen, you know, is red!)</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> A vixen, eh?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span>  Treason, my son!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">God made us anyway and coloured us!</span></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> And is he less the artist if at will</span> -<span class="i13">He strings a black pearl, hangs between the camps</span> -<span class="i13">Of day and day the banner of His dark?</span> -<span class="i13">Or that He leaves, when with His autumn breath</span> -<span class="i13">He fans the bonfire of the woods, a pine</span> -<span class="i13">Unkindled?</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span> <span class="ws3_5">True; and such a black is she</span></span> -<span class="i13">Among the golden women.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> I see your pine,</span> -<span class="i13">Your branching solitude, your evening tree,</span> -<span class="i13">With high, untroubled head, that meets the eye</span> -<span class="i13">As lips meet unseen kisses in the night—</span> -<span class="i13">A perfumed dusk, a canopy of dreams</span> -<span class="i13">And chapel of ease, a harp for summer airs</span> -<span class="i13">To tremble in—</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">Barren the ground beneath,</span></span> -<span class="i13">No flowers, no grass, the needles lying thick,</span> -<span class="i13">Spent arrows—</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Yes, she knows—we know how women</span> -<span class="i13">Can prick a man to death with needle stabs.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">O God!</span></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span>  Your wife! She’s ill!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Anne?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">Let me be!</span></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Come to your mother—take my arm—</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">I’ll sit.</span></span> -<span class="i13">I have no strength.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> I’ll call her to you.  [<i>He goes out.</i>]</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">Quick!</span></span> -<span class="i13">Before he comes, what is her name? her name?</span> -<span class="i13">Her mood? her mind? In all the town of Stratford</span> -<span class="i13">Was there no door but this to pound at? Quick!</span> -<span class="i13">You know her? Did you see his look? O God!</span> -<span class="i13">The last rope parts. He’s like a boat that strains,</span> -<span class="i13">Strains at her moorings. Why did you praise her so?</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span> -<span class="i13">And talk of London? What’s it all to you?</span> -<span class="i13">Tall, is she? Yes, like a tree—a block of wood—</span> -<span class="i13">You said so! (Is he coming?) Tell me quick!</span> -<span class="i13">I’ve never seen a London lady close.</span> -<span class="i13">She’s lovely? So are many! How?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span>  She’s new!</span> -<span class="i13">She’s gallant, like a tall ship setting sail,</span> -<span class="i13">And boasts she fears no man. Say “woman” though—</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">What woman does this woman fear?</span></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span>  The Queen.</span> -<span class="i13">I’ve seen it in her eye.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">I should not fear.</span></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span>  You never saw the Queen of England smile</span> -<span class="i13">And crook her finger, once—and the fate falls.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">I’ve seen her picture. She’s eaten of a worm</span></span> -<span class="i13">As I am eaten. I’d not fear the Queen.</span> -<span class="i13">Her snake would know its fellow in my heart</span> -<span class="i13">And pass me. But this woman—what’s her name?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span>  Mary—</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">That’s “bitter.” I shall find her so.</span></span> -<span class="i20"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare</span> <i>comes in with</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs. Hathaway</span>.</span> -<span class="i13">Look at him! Fear the Queen? Did not the Queen,</span> -<span class="i13">My sister, meet a Mary long ago</span> -<span class="i13">That bruised her in the heel?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span>  Man, your wife’s mad!</span> -<span class="i13">She says the Queen’s her sister.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">Mad, noble Festus?</span></span> -<span class="i13">Not I! But tell him so—he’ll kiss you for it.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span>  I’ll meet you, friend, some other time or place—</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> What’s this? You’re leaving us?</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span>  Your wife’s too ill—</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Too ill to stand, yet not too ill to— [<i>Aside</i>] Anne!</span> -<span class="i13">Why does he stare? What have you told my friend?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">Your friend!</span></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> My friend!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">This once-met Londoner!</span></span> -<span class="i13">What does he want of you, in spite of me?</span> -<span class="i13">This bribing tramp, this palpable decoy—</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Be silent in my house before my friends!</span> -<span class="i13">Be silent!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">This your friend!</span></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Silent, I say!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">I <i>will</i> not! Blows? Would you do that to me,</span></span> -<span class="i13">Husband?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> I never touched you!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">What! No blow?</span></span> -<span class="i13">Here, where I felt it—here? Is there no wound,</span> -<span class="i13">No black mark?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Mrs. Hathaway.</span> Oh, she’s wild! I’ll take her. Come!</span> -<span class="i15">Come, Anne! It’s naught! I know the signs.</span> -<span class="i28">[<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Shakespeare</span>].</span> -<span class="i48">Stay you!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">O Mother, there befell me a strange pang</span></span> -<span class="i13">Here at my heart—[<i>The two go out together.</i>]</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> O women! women! women!</span> -<span class="i13">They slink about you, noiseless as a cat,</span> -<span class="i13">With ready smiles and ready silences.</span> -<span class="i13">These women are too humble and too wise</span> -<span class="i13">In pricking needle-ways: they drive you mad</span> -<span class="i13">With fibs and slips and kisses out of time:</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span> -<span class="i13">And if you do not trip and feign as they</span> -<span class="i13">And cover all with kisses, do but wince</span> -<span class="i13">Once in your soul (the soul they shall not touch,</span> -<span class="i13">Never, I tell you, never! Sooner the smeared,</span> -<span class="i13">The old-time honey death from a thousand stings,</span> -<span class="i13">Than let their tongue prick patterns on your soul!)</span> -<span class="i13">Then, then all’s cat-like clamour and annoy!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span>  Cry, “Shoo!” and clap your hands; for so are all</span> -<span class="i13">Familiar women. These are but interludes</span> -<span class="i13">In the march of the play, and should be taken so,</span> -<span class="i13">Lightly, as food for laughter, not for rage.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> My mother—</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Henslowe</span> [<i>shrugging</i>].  Ah, your mother!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> She’s not thus,</span> -<span class="i13">But selfless; and I’ve dreamed of others—tall,</span> -<span class="i13">Warm-flushed like pine-woods with their clear red stems,</span> -<span class="i13">With massy hair and voices like the wind</span> -<span class="i13">Stirring the cool dark silence of the pines.</span> -<span class="i13">Know you such women?—beckoning hill-top women,</span> -<span class="i13">That sway to you with lovely gifts of shade</span> -<span class="i13">And slumber, and deep peace, and when at dawn</span> -<span class="i13">You go from them on pilgrimage again,</span> -<span class="i13">They follow not nor weep, but rooted stand</span> -<span class="i13">In their own pride for ever—demi-gods.</span> -<span class="i13">Are there such women? Did you say you knew</span> -<span class="i13">Such women? such a woman?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span>  Come to London</span> -<span class="i13">And use your eyes!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> How can I come to London?</span> -<span class="i13">You see me what I am, a man tied down.</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span> -<span class="i13">My wife—you saw! How can I come to London?</span> -<span class="i13">Say to a sick man “Take your bed and walk!”</span> -<span class="i13">Say to a prisoner “Release your chain!”</span> -<span class="i13">Say to a tongue-slit blackbird “Pipe again</span> -<span class="i13">As in the free, the spring-time!” You maybe</span> -<span class="i13">Have spells to help them, but for me no help.</span> -<span class="i13">London!</span> -<span class="i13">I think sometimes that I shall never see</span> -<span class="i13">This lady in whose lap the weed-hung ships</span> -<span class="i13">From ocean-end returning pour their gold,</span> -<span class="i13">Myrrh, frankincense. What colour’s frankincense?</span> -<span class="i13">And how will a man’s eye move and how his hand,</span> -<span class="i13">Who sailed the flat world round and home again</span> -<span class="i13">To London, London of the mazy streets,</span> -<span class="i13">Where ever the shifting people flash and fade</span> -<span class="i13">Like my own thoughts? You’re smiling—why?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span>  I live there.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Oh, to be you!</span> -<span class="i13">To read the faces and to write the dreams,</span> -<span class="i13">To hear the voices and record the songs,</span> -<span class="i13">To grave upon the metal of my mind</span> -<span class="i13">All great men, lordlier than they know themselves,</span> -<span class="i13">And fowler-like to fling my net o’er London,</span> -<span class="i13">And some let fly, and clip the wings of some</span> -<span class="i13">Fit for my notes; till one fine day I catch</span> -<span class="i13">The Governess of England as she goes</span> -<span class="i13">To solemn service with her gentlemen:</span> -<span class="i13">(What thoughts behind the mask, beneath the crown?)</span> -<span class="i13">Queen! The crowd’s eyes are yours, but not my eyes!</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span> -<span class="i13">Queen! To my piping you shall unawares</span> -<span class="i13">Strut on my stage for me! You laugh? I swear</span> -<span class="i13">I’ll make that thrice-wrapped, politic, vain heart</span> -<span class="i13">My horn-book (as you all are) whence I’ll learn</span> -<span class="i13">How Julius frowned, and Elinor rode her way</span> -<span class="i13">Rough-shod, and Egypt met ill-news. I’ll do it,</span> -<span class="i13">Though I hold horses in the streets for hire,</span> -<span class="i13">Once I am come to London.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span>   Come with us</span> -<span class="i13">And there’s no holding horses! Part and pay</span> -<span class="i13">Are ready, and we start to-night.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> I cannot.</span> -<span class="i13">I’m Whittington at cross-roads, but the bells</span> -<span class="i13">Ring “Turn again to Stratford!” not to London.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span>  Well—as you choose!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> As I choose? <i>I! I</i> choose?</span> -<span class="i13">I’m married to a woman near her time</span> -<span class="i13">That needs me! Choose? I am not twenty, sir!</span> -<span class="i13">What devil sped you here to bid me choose?</span> -<span class="i13">I knew a boy went wandering in a wood,</span> -<span class="i13">Drunken with common dew and beauty-mad</span> -<span class="i13">And moonstruck. Then there came a nightshade witch,</span> -<span class="i13">Locked hands with him, small hands, hot hands, down drew him,</span> -<span class="i13">Sighing—“Love me, love me!” as a ring-dove sighs,</span> -<span class="i13">(How white a woman is, under the moon!)</span> -<span class="i13">She was scarce human. Yet he took her home,</span> -<span class="i13">And now she’s turned in the gross light of day</span> -<span class="i13">To a haggard scold, and he handfasted sits</span> -<span class="i13">Breaking his heart—and yet the spell constrains him.</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span> -<span class="i13">This is not I, not I, for I am bound</span> -<span class="i13">To a good wife and true, that loves me; but—</span> -<span class="i13">I tell you I could write of such a man,</span> -<span class="i13">And make you laugh and weep at such a man,</span> -<span class="i13">For your own manhood’s sake, so bound, so bound.</span> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span>  Laugh? Weep? No, I’d be a friend to such a man! -Go to him now and tell him from me—or no! Go rather to this -wife of his that loves him well, you say—?</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Too well!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span>  Why, man, it’s common! Or too light, too low,</span> -<span class="i13">Not once in a golden age love’s scale trims level.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> I read of lovers once in Italy—</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span>  You’ll write of lovers too, not once nor twice.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Their scales were level ere they died of love,</span> -<span class="i13">In Italy—</span> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span>  But if instead they had lived—in Stratford—there’d -have been such a see-saw in six months as—</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> As what?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span>  As there has been, eh?</span> -<span class="i23">“See-saw! Margery Daw!</span> -<span class="i24">She sold her bed to lie upon straw.”</span> -<span class="i0">And so—poor Margery! Though she counts me an enemy—poor Margery!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> What help for Margery—and her Jack?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span>  None, friend, in Stratford.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Do I not know it?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span>  Then—tell Margery!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Deaf, deaf!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span>  Not if you tell her how all heels in London</span> -<span class="i13">(And the Queen dances!)</span> -<span class="i13">So trip to the Stratford tune that I hot-haste</span> -<span class="i13">Am sent to fetch the fiddler—</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Man, is it true?</span> -<span class="i13">True that the Queen—?</span> -</div></div> -<p><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span> <span class="ws4">I say—tell Margery!<br /> -What! is she a woman, a wife, and will not further her man? I say to -you—tell Margery, as I tell you—</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> You do?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span>  I do. I do tell you -that if you can come away with us now with your ‘Dream’ in your -pocket, and teach it to us and learn of us while you teach, and -strike London in time for the Queen’s birthday—I tell you and I -tell her, Jack’s a made man. See what Margery says to that, and give -me the answer, stay or come, as I pass here to-night! And now let me -go; for if I do not soon whip my company clear of apple-juice and -apple-bloom, clear, that is to say, of Stratford wine and Stratford -women, we shall not pass here to-night. [<i>He goes out.</i>]</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> To-night! [<i>Calling</i>] -Anne! Anne! [<i>He walks up and down.</i>] Oh, to be one of them -to-night on the silver road—to smell the steaming frost and -listen to men’s voices and the ring of iron on the London road! -[<i>Calling</i>] Anne!</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne</span> [<i>entering</i>]. You called? He’s gone? You’re angry? Oh, not now,</span> -<span class="i15">No anger now; for, Will, to-night in the sky,</span> -<span class="i15">Our sky, a new star shines.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> What’s that? You know?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">I know, and oh, my heart sings.</span></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Anne, dear Anne,</span> -<span class="i13">You know? No frets? You wish it? Oh, dear Anne,</span> -<span class="i13">How did you guess and know?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">My mother told me.</span></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> She heard us? Did she hear—they’ve read the play,</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span> -<span class="i13">And the Queen’s asked for me! London, Anne! London!</span> -<span class="i13">I’ll send you London home, my lass, by the post—</span> -<span class="i13">Such frocks and fancies! London! London, Anne!</span> -<span class="i13">And you, you know? and speed me hence? By God,</span> -<span class="i13">That’s my own wife at last, all gold to me</span> -<span class="i13">And goodness! Anne, be better to me still</span> -<span class="i13">And help me hence to-night!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">It dips, it dies,</span></span> -<span class="i13">A night-light, Mother, and no star. I grope</span> -<span class="i13">Giddily in the dark.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> What did she tell you?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">No matter. Oh, it earns not that black look.</span></span> -<span class="i13">London? the Queen? I’ll help you, oh, be sure!</span> -<span class="i13">Too glad to see you glad.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Anne, it’s good-bye</span> -<span class="i13">To Stratford till the game’s won.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">What care I</span></span> -<span class="i13">So you are satisfied? The farm must go—</span> -<span class="i13">That’s little—</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Must it go?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">Dreamer, how else</span></span> -<span class="i13">Shall we two live in London?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> <i>We</i>, do you say?</span> -<span class="i13">They’d have me travel with them—a rough life—</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">I care not!</span></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> —and you’re ailing.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">Better soon.</span></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> You’ll miss your mother.</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">Mothers everywhere</span></span> -<span class="i13">Will help a girl. I’m strong.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> It will not do!</span> -<span class="i13">I have my world to learn, and learn alone.</span> -<span class="i13">I will not dangle at your apron-strings.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">I’ll be no tie. I’ll be your follower</span></span> -<span class="i13">And scarce your wife; but let me go with you!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> If you could see but once, once, with my eyes!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">Will! let me go with you!</span></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> I tell you—no!</span> -<span class="i13">Leave me to go my way and rule my life</span> -<span class="i13">After my fashion! I’ll not lean on you</span> -<span class="i13">Because you’re seven years wiser.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">That too, O God!</span></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> And if I hurt you—for I know I do,</span> -<span class="i13">I’m not so rapt—think of me, if you can,</span> -<span class="i13">As a man stifled that wildly throws his arms,</span> -<span class="i13">Raking the air for room—for room to breathe,</span> -<span class="i13">And so strikes unaware, unwillingly,</span> -<span class="i13">His lover!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">I could sooner think of you</span></span> -<span class="i13">Asleep, and I beside you with the child,</span> -<span class="i13">And all this passion ended, as it must,</span> -<span class="i13">In quiet graves; for we have been such lovers</span> -<span class="i13">As there’s no room for in the human air</span> -<span class="i13">And daylight side of the grass. What shall I do?</span> -<span class="i13">And how live on? Why did you marry me?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> You know the why of that.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">Too well we know it,</span></span> -<span class="i13">I and the child. You have well taught this fool</span> -<span class="i13">That thought a heart of dreams, a loving heart,</span> -<span class="i13">A soul, a self resigned, could better please</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span> -<span class="i13">Than the blind flesh of a woman; for God knows</span> -<span class="i13">Your self drew me, the folded man in you,</span> -<span class="i13">Not, not the boy-husk.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Yet the same God knows</span> -<span class="i13">When folly was, you willed it first, not I.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">Old! Old as Adam! and untrue, untrue!</span></span> -<span class="i13">Why did you come to me at Shottery,</span> -<span class="i13">Out of your way, so often? laugh with me</span> -<span class="i13">Apart, and answer for me as of right,</span> -<span class="i13">As if you knew me better (ah, it was sweet!)</span> -<span class="i13">Than my own brothers? And on Sunday eves</span> -<span class="i13">You’d wait and walk with me the long way home</span> -<span class="i13">From church, with me alone, the foot-path way,</span> -<span class="i13">Across the fields where wild convolvulus</span> -<span class="i13">Strangles the corn—</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Strangles the corn indeed!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne.</span><span class="ws3_5">—and still delay me talking at the stile,</span></span> -<span class="i13">Long after curfew, under the risen moon.</span> -<span class="i13">Why did you come? Why did you stay with me,</span> -<span class="i13">To make me love, to make me think you loved me?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Oh, you were easy, cheap, you flattered me.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne</span> [<i>crying out</i>]. I did not.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Why, did you not look at me</span> -<span class="i13">As I were God? And for a while I liked it.</span> -<span class="i13">It fed some weed in me that since has withered;</span> -<span class="i13">For now I like it not, nor like you for it!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne.</span><span class="ws3_5"> That is your fate, you change, you must ever be changing,</span></span> -<span class="i13">You climb from a boy to a man, from a man to a god,</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span> -<span class="i13">And the god looks back on the man with a smile, and the man on the boy with wonder;</span> -<span class="i13">But I, I am woman for ever: I change not at all.</span> -<span class="i13">You hold out your hands to me—heaven: you turn from me—hell;</span> -<span class="i13">But neither the hell nor the heaven can change me: I love you: I change not at all.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> All this leads not to London, and for London</span> -<span class="i13">I am resolved: if not to-night—</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">To-night?</span></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> As soon as maybe. When the child is born—</span> -<span class="i13">When will the child be born?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">Soon, soon—</span></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> How soon?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">I think—I do not know—</span></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> In March?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">Who knows?</span></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Did you not tell me March?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">Easter—</span></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> That’s May!</span> -<span class="i13">It should be March.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">It—should be—March—</span></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Why, Anne?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">Stay with me longer! Wait till Whitsuntide,</span></span> -<span class="i13">Till June, till summer comes, and if, when you see</span> -<span class="i13">Your own son, still you’ll leave us, why, go then!</span> -<span class="i13">But sure, you will not go.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Summer? Why summer?</span> -<span class="i13">It should be spring, not summer—</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">I’ll not bear</span></span> -<span class="i13">These questions, like coarse fingers, prying out</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span> -<span class="i13">My secrets.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Secrets?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">Secrets? I? I’ve none—</span></span> -<span class="i13">I never meant—I know not why the word</span> -<span class="i13">Came to me, “secret.” Yet you’re all secret thoughts</span> -<span class="i13">And plans you do not share. Why should not I</span> -<span class="i13">Be secret, if I choose? But see, I’ll tell you</span> -<span class="i13">All, all—some other time—were there indeed</span> -<span class="i13">A thing to tell—</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> When will the child be born?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">If it were—June? My mother said to-day</span></span> -<span class="i13">It might be June—July—This woman’s talk</span> -<span class="i13">Is not for you—</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> July?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">Oh, I must laugh</span></span> -<span class="i13">Because you look and look—don’t look at me!</span> -<span class="i13">June! May! I swear it’s May! I said the spring,</span> -<span class="i13">And May is still the girlhood of the year.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> July! A round year since you came to me!</span> -<span class="i13">Then—when you came to me, in haste, afraid,</span> -<span class="i13">All tears, and clung to me, and white-lipped swore</span> -<span class="i13">You had no friend but Avon if I failed you,</span> -<span class="i13">It was a lie?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">Don’t look at me!</span></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> No need?</span> -<span class="i13">You forced me with a lie?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">Now there is—now!</span></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> You locked me in this prison with a lie?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">I loved you.</span></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> And you lied to me—</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">To hold you.</span></span> -<span class="i15">I couldn’t lose you. I was mad with pain.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Are you so weak,</span> -<span class="i13">So candle-wavering, that a gust of pain</span> -<span class="i13">Could snuff out honour?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">’Ware this hurricane</span></span> -<span class="i13">Of pain! The deserts heed it not, nor rocks,</span> -<span class="i13">Nor the perpetual sea; but oh, the fields</span> -<span class="i13">Where barley grows and small beasts hide, they fear—</span> -<span class="i13">And haggard woods that feel its violent hand</span> -<span class="i13">Entangled in their hair and wrestling, shriek</span> -<span class="i13">Crashing to ruin. What shall their pensioners</span> -<span class="i13">Do now, the rustling mice, the anemones,</span> -<span class="i13">The whisking squirrels, ivies, nightingales,</span> -<span class="i13">The hermit bee whose summer goods were stored</span> -<span class="i13">In a south bank? How shall the small things stand</span> -<span class="i13">Against the tempest, against the cruel sun</span> -<span class="i13">That stares them, homeless, out of countenance,</span> -<span class="i13">Through the day’s heats?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Coward! They see the sun</span> -<span class="i13">Though they die seeing, and the wider view,</span> -<span class="i13">The vast horizons, the amazing skies</span> -<span class="i13">Undreamed before.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> I cannot see so far.</span> -<span class="i13">I want my little loves, I want my home.</span> -<span class="i13">My life is rooted up, my prop is gone,</span> -<span class="i13">And like a vine I lie upon the ground,</span> -<span class="i13">Muddied and broken.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> I could be sorry for you</span> -<span class="i13">Under the heavy hand of God or man</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span> -<span class="i13">But your own hand has slain yourself and me.</span> -<span class="i13">Woman, the shame of it, to trap me thus,</span> -<span class="i13">Knowing I never loved you!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">Oh, for a month—</span></span> -<span class="i13">In the spring, in the long grass, under the apple-trees—</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> I never loved you.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">Think, when I hurt my hand</span></span> -<span class="i13">With the wild rose, it was then you said “Dear Anne!”</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> I have forgotten.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">On Midsummer Eve—</span></span> -<span class="i13">There was a dream about a wood you told me,</span> -<span class="i13">Me—not another—</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> I was drunk with dreams</span> -<span class="i13">That night.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">That night, that night you loved me, Will!</span></span> -<span class="i13">Oh, never look at me and say—that night,</span> -<span class="i13">Under the holy moon, there was no love!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> You knew it was not love.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">O God, I knew,</span></span> -<span class="i13">And would not know! You never came again.</span> -<span class="i13">I hoped, I prayed. I hoped. I loved you so.</span> -<span class="i13">You never came.</span> -<span class="i13">And must I go to you? I was ashamed.</span> -<span class="i13">Yet in the wood I waited, waited, Will,</span> -<span class="i13">Night after night I waited, waited, Will,</span> -<span class="i13">Till shame itself was swallowed up in pain,</span> -<span class="i13">In pain of waiting, and—I went to you.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> That lie upon those loving lips?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">That lie.</span></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> There was no child?</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">The hope, the hope of children,</span></span> -<span class="i13">To bind you to me—a true hope to hold you—</span> -<span class="i13">No lie—a little lie—I loved you so—</span> -<span class="i13">Scarcely a lie—a promise to come true</span> -<span class="i13">Of gifts between us and a love to come.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> You’re mad! You’re mad!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">I was mad. I am sane.</span></span> -<span class="i13">I am blind Samson, shaking down the house</span> -<span class="i13">Of torment on myself as well as you.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> What gain was there? What gain?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">What gain but you?</span></span> -<span class="i13">The sight of your face and the sound of your foot on the stair,</span> -<span class="i13">And your casual word to a stranger—“This is my wife!”</span> -<span class="i13">For the touch of my hand on your arm, as a right, when we walked with the neighbours:</span> -<span class="i13">For the son, for the son on my heart, with your smile and your frown:</span> -<span class="i13">For the loss of my name in the name that you gave when you said to him—“Mother! your mother!”</span> -<span class="i13">For your glance at me over his head when he brought us his toys or his tears:</span> -<span class="i13">Have pity! Have pity! Have pity! for these things I did it.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Words! Words! You lied to me. Go your own road!</span> -<span class="i13">I know you not.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">But I, but I know you.</span></span> -<span class="i13">Have I not learned my god’s face? Have I not seen</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span> -<span class="i13">The great dreams cloud it, as the ships of the sky</span> -<span class="i13">Darken the river? Has not the wind struck home,</span> -<span class="i13">The following chill wind that stirs all straws</span> -<span class="i13">Of omen? You’re to be great, God pity you!</span> -<span class="i13">I’m your poor village woman; but I know</span> -<span class="i13">What you must learn and learn, and shriek to God</span> -<span class="i13">To spare you learning, if you will be great,</span> -<span class="i13">Singing to men and women across fields</span> -<span class="i13">Of years, and hearing answer as they reap,</span> -<span class="i13">Afar, the centuried fields, “He knew, he knew!”</span> -<span class="i13">How will they listen to you—voice that cries</span> -<span class="i13">“Right’s right! Wrong’s wrong! For every sin a stone!</span> -<span class="i13">“Ye shall not plead to any god or man—</span> -<span class="i13">“‘I flinched because the pain was very great,’</span> -<span class="i13">“‘I fell because the burden bore me down,’</span> -<span class="i13">“‘Hungry, I stole.’” O boy, ungrown, at judgment,</span> -<span class="i13">How will they listen? What? I lied? Oh, blind!</span> -<span class="i13">When I, your own, show you my heart of hearts,</span> -<span class="i13">A book for you to read all women by,</span> -<span class="i13">Blindly you turn my page with—“Here are lies!”</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Subtle enough—and glitter may be gold</span> -<span class="i13">In women’s eyes—you say so—though to a man,</span> -<span class="i13">Boy rather (boy, you called me) lies are lies,</span> -<span class="i13">Base money, though you rub ’em till they shine,</span> -<span class="i13">Ill money to buy love with; but—I care not!</span> -<span class="i13">So be at ease! My love’s not confiscate,</span> -<span class="i13">For none was yours to forfeit. Faith indeed,</span> -<span class="i13">A weakling trust is gone, for though you irked me</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span> -<span class="i13">I thought you honest and so bore much from you—</span> -<span class="i13">Your jealous-glancing eye, officious hand</span> -<span class="i13">Meddling my papers, fool’s opinion given</span> -<span class="i13">Unasked when strangers spoke with me, and laughter</span> -<span class="i13">Suddenly checked as if you feared a blow</span> -<span class="i13">As a dog does—it made me mad!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">Go on!</span></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> For when did I use you ill?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">Go on!</span></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> What need?</span> -<span class="i13">All’s in a word—your ever-presence here</span> -<span class="i13">As if you’d naught in life to do but watch me—</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">Go on!</span></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> All this, I say, I bore, because at heart</span> -<span class="i13">I did believe you loved me. Well—it’s gone!</span> -<span class="i13">And I go with it—free, a free man, free!</span> -<span class="i13">Anne! for that word I could forgive you all</span> -<span class="i13">And go from you in peace.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">ANNE [<i>catching at his arm</i>].   You shall not go!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Shall not? This burr—how impudent it clings!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">You have not heard me—</span></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Let me go, I say!</span> -<span class="i13">My purse, my papers—</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">Will!</span></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Talk to the walls,</span> -<span class="i13">For I hear nothing!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">Why, a murderess</span></span> -<span class="i13">Has respite in my case—and I—and I—</span> -<span class="i13">What have I done but love you, when all’s said?</span> -<span class="i13">You will not leave me now, now when that lie</span> -<span class="i13">Is certain truth at last, and in me sleeps</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span> -<span class="i13">Like God’s forgiveness? For I felt it stir</span> -<span class="i13">When you were angry—I was angry too,</span> -<span class="i13">My fault, all mine—but I was sick and faint</span> -<span class="i13">And frightened, so I railed, because no word</span> -<span class="i13">Matched with the strong need in me suddenly</span> -<span class="i13">For gentlest looks and your beloved arms</span> -<span class="i13">About this body changed and shaking so;</span> -<span class="i13">But why I knew not. But my mother knew</span> -<span class="i13">And told me.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> O wise mother!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">Will, it’s true!</span></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Practice makes perfect, as we wrote at school!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">I swear to you—</span></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> As then you swore to me.</span> -<span class="i13">Not twice, not twice, my girl!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">O God, God Son!</span></span> -<span class="i13">Pitiful God! If there be other lives,</span> -<span class="i13">As I have heard him say, as his books say,</span> -<span class="i13">In other bodies, for Your Mother’s sake</span> -<span class="i13">And all she knows (God, ask her what she knows!)</span> -<span class="i13">Let me not be a woman! Let me be</span> -<span class="i13">Some twisting worm on a hook, or fish they catch</span> -<span class="i13">And fling again to catch another year,</span> -<span class="i13">Or otter trapped and broiled in the sun three days,</span> -<span class="i13">Or lovely bird whose living wing men tear</span> -<span class="i13">From its live body, or of Italy</span> -<span class="i13">Some peasant’s drudge-horse whipped upon its eyes,</span> -<span class="i13">Or let me as a heart-burst, screaming hare</span> -<span class="i13">Be wrenched in two by slavering deaths for sport;</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span> -<span class="i13">But let me not again be cursed a woman</span> -<span class="i13">Surrendered to the mercy of her man!</span> -</div></div> - -<p><i>She sinks down in a crouching heap by the hearth. There has been a -sound of many voices drawing nearer, and as she ceases speaking, the -words of a song become clear.</i></p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">The Players</span> [<i>singing</i>]. Come with us to London,</span> -<span class="i23">Folly, come away!</span> -<span class="i21">We’ll make your fortune</span> -<span class="i23">On a summer day.</span> -<span class="i19">Leave your sloes and mulberries!</span> -<span class="i19">There are riper fruits than these,</span> -<span class="i23">In London, in London,</span> -<span class="i23">Oh, London Town!</span> -<span class="i23">For winds will blow</span> -<span class="i23">And barley grow</span> -<span class="i23">Without you, without you,</span> -<span class="i19">And the world get on without you—</span> -<span class="i23">Oh, London Town!</span> -</div></div> - -<p><i>The voices drop to a low hum</i>. <span class="smcap">Henslowe</span> -<i>thrusts his head in at the window.</i></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span> The sun’s down. The sky’s as yellow as a London -fog. Well, what’s it to be?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> London! The future in a golden fog!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span>  Come then!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> I’ll fetch my bundle. Wait for me! What voices?</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span>  The rest of us, the people of the plays.</span> -<span class="i13">We’re all here waiting for you.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Come in, all! all!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span>  Does your wife say to us—“Come in!”?</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> What wife?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i23"><i>He hurries up the stairs and disappears.</i></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Henslowe</span> [<i>opening the outer door</i>].  May we come in?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">You heard him.</span></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span>  We ask you.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">It’s his house.</span></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Henslowe</span> [<i>humming</i>]. While fortune waits</span> -<span class="i20">Within the gates</span> -<span class="i20">Of London, of London—</span> -<span class="i20">He must be quick!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">Am <i>I</i> to tell him so?</span></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span>  The new moon’s up and reaping in a sky</span> -<span class="i13">Like corn—that’s frost! A bitter travelling night</span> -<span class="i13">Before us—</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne</span> [<i>going to the window</i>].</span> -<span class="i15">So it is.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span>  Not through the glass!</span> -<span class="i13">You’ll buy ill luck of the moon.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">I bought ill fortune</span></span> -<span class="i13">Long months ago under the shifty moon,</span> -<span class="i13">I saw her through the midnight glass of the air,</span> -<span class="i13">Milky with light, when trees my casement were,</span> -<span class="i13">And little twigs the leads that held my pane.</span> -<span class="i13">I’m out of luck for ever.</span> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span> Did I not tell you you feared your fortune? But -there are some in the company can tell you a better, if you’ll let -’em in.</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Three Players in Masks</span> [<i>tapping at the window</i>].</span> -<span class="i16">Let us in! Let us in! Let us in!</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">I will not let you in. Wait for your fellow</span></span> -<span class="i13">On the high road! He’ll come to you soon enough.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i16"><i>She turns from them and seats herself by the fire.</i></span> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">A Player</span> [<i>dressed as a king, over</i> <span class="smcap">Henslowe’s</span> -<i>shoulder</i>]. Are we never to come in? It’s as cold as charity since -the sun set.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">It’s no warmer here.</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A Child</span> [<i>poking his head under the</i> <span class="smcap">Player’s</span> -<i>arm</i>]. I can’t feel my fingers. [<span class="smcap">Anne</span> <i>looks at him. -Her face changes.</i>]</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> If the fire warms you, you may warm yourselves.</span> -<span class="i18"><span class="smcap">The Players</span> <i>stream in.</i></span> -<span class="i13">It does not warm me. Look! It cannot warm me.</span> -<span class="i18"><i>She thrusts her hand into the flame.</i></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span>  God’s sake!</span> -<span class="i16"><i>He pulls her back.</i> <span class="smcap">The Players</span> <i>stare and whisper together.</i></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">Eyes! Needle eyes! Why do you stare and point?</span></span> -<span class="i13">Like you I would have warmed myself. Vain, vain!</span> -<span class="i13">It’s a strange hearth. You players are the first</span> -<span class="i13">It ever warmed or welcomed. Charity?</span> -<span class="i13">Who said it—“Cold as charity”? That’s love!</span> -<span class="i13">But there’s no love here. Baby, stay away!</span> -<span class="i13">You’ll freeze less out in churchyard night than here,</span> -<span class="i13">For here’s not even charity.</span> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">The Child</span> [<i>warming his hands</i>]. I’m not a baby. I’m nearly -eleven. I’ve played children’s parts for years. I’m getting warmer. Are you? -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">No.</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Child.</span> <span class="ws3">I like this house. I’d like to stay here. -I suppose there are things in that cupboard?</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">The King</span> [<i>overhearing</i>].  Now, now!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Child.</span> <span class="ws3">That’s my father. He’s a king this week. He’s only a -duke as a rule. Are there apples in that cupboard? Will you give me one?</span></p> - -<p><span class="ws4"><span class="smcap">Anne</span> <i>goes to the cupboard and takes out an apple.</i></span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">Will you give me a kiss?</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Child.</span> <span class="ws3_5">For my apple?</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">No, for love.</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Child.</span> <span class="ws3_5">I don’t love you.</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">For luck, then.</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Child.</span> <span class="ws3">You told him you’d got no luck.</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">Won’t you give me a kiss?</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Child.</span> <span class="ws3">If you like. Don’t hold me so tight. -Is it true you’ve no luck? Shall I tell your fortune?</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">Can you?</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Child.</span> <span class="ws3">O yes! I’ve watched the Fates do it in the new play. -It’s Orpheus and—it’s a long name. But she’s his lost wife. Give -me a handkerchief! That’s for a grey veil. [<i>Posing.</i>] Now say to -me—“Who are you?”</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">Who are you?</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Child</span> [<i>posing</i>].  Fate! Now you must say—“Whose fate?”</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">Whose?</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Child.</span> <span class="ws3_5">Oh, then I lift the veil and you scream. -[<i>Stamping his foot.</i>] Scream!</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">Why, baby?</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Child</span> [<i>frowning</i>]. At my dreadful face. -[<i>But he begins to laugh in spite of himself.</i>]</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Anne</span> [<i>her face hidden</i>].  Oh, child! Oh, child! -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Child.</span> <span class="ws3_5">That’s right! That’s the way she cries in the play. -You see the man goes down to hell to find his wife, and the Fates -show her what’s going to happen while she’s waiting for him. She’s in -hell already, waiting and waiting. It takes years to travel through -hell. That’s her talking to the old man in rags and a crown.</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">Who’s he?</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Child.</span> <span class="ws3">Oh, he’s a poor old king whose daughters beat him. -He isn’t in this play. Well, when Orpheus gets to hell—I lead him -there, you know—</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">A babe in hell—a babe in hell—</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Child.</span> <span class="ws3">I’m the little -god of love. I wear a crown of roses and wings. They do tickle. Soon -I’ll be too big. So he and I go to the three Fates to get back his -wife. She isn’t pretty in that act. She’s all white and dead round -her eyes—like you.</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">Does he find her?</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Child.</span> <span class="ws3">After he sings -his beautiful song he does. Everybody has to listen when he sings. -Even the big dog lies down. Your husband made us a nice catch about -it yesterday. I like your husband. I’m glad he’s coming with us. Are -you coming with us?</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">No.</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Child.</span> <span class="ws3">It’s a pity. -If you were a man you could act in the company. But women can’t act. -Even Orpheus’ wife is a boy really. So are the three Fates. They’re -friends of mine. Would you like to talk to them, the way we do in the -play? Come on! I go first, you see. You must say just what I tell -you.</span></p> - -<p><i>He takes her hands and pulls her to her feet. She -stares, bewildered, for the room has grown dim. The dying -fire shines upon the shifting, shadowy figures of the</i> -<span class="smcap">Players</span>. <i>The crowd grows larger every -moment and is thickest at the foot of the stairs</i>. -<span class="smcap">Shakespeare</span> <i>is seen coming down them</i>.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> The room’s so full. I’m frightened. -Who are all these people? -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Child.</span> <span class="ws3_5">Hush! We’re in -hell. These are all the dead people. We bring ’em to life.</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">Who? We?</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Child.</span> <span class="ws3_5">I and the -singer. Look, there’s your husband coming down the stairs! That’s -just the way Orpheus comes down into hell.</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">Will! Will!</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Child.</span> <span class="ws3_5">Hush! You mustn’t talk.</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">But it’s all dreams—it’s all dreams.</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Child.</span> <span class="ws3_5">It’s the players.</span></p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare</span> [<i>among the shadows</i>].</span> -<span class="i17">Let me pass!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">The Shadows.</span>  Pay toll!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span>   How, pay it?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">A Shadow.</span> <span class="ws3"> Tell my story?</span></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Another.</span>  And mine!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Another.</span>   And mine!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Another.</span> <span class="ws3">And mine!</span></span> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">A Roman Woman.</span> Pluck back my dagger first and tell my story!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A Drowned Girl.</span> Oh, listen, listen, listen, I’ve forgotten -my own story. It’s a very sad one. Remember for me!</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> I will remember. Let me pass!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">A Trojan Woman</span> [<i>kissing him</i>]. Here’s pay!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">A Venetian.</span> I died of love.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">The Trojan Woman.</span> Kiss me and tell my story!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">A Moor.</span>   Dead lips, dead lips!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">A Young Man.</span> This is how Judas kissed.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">A Queen.</span> My son was taken from me. Tell my story!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Another.</span>  And mine!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Another.</span>   And mine!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">A Young Man.</span> <span class="ws3">That son am I!</span></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Two Children.</span> <span class="ws4">I—I—</span></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">A Soldier.</span> I killed a king.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">A Crowned Shadow.</span> He killed me while I slept.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">The Shadows.</span> You shall not pass until you tell our story!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">A Girl dressed as a Boy.</span> I lived in a wood and laughed.</span> -<span class="i24">Sing you my laughter</span> -<span class="i24">When the sun shone!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> I’ll sing it. Singing I go,</span> -<span class="i13">What shall I find after the song is over?</span> -<span class="i13">What shall I find after the way is clear?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">An Old Man, a Jew.</span>  Gold and gold and gold—</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">A Clown.</span>   And a grave untended—</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">A Man in Black.</span>  Heartbreak—</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Two Cousins.</span>   A friend or two—</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">A Roman with Laurels.</span> Oh, sing my story</span> -<span class="i23">Before I had half-way climbed to the nearest star</span> -<span class="i23">My ladder broke.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> I’ll tell all time that story.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">The Roman.</span>  The stars are dark, seen close.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> I’ll say it.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">The Roman.</span>  Pass!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">An Egyptian</span> [<i>holding a goblet</i>].</span> -<span class="i16">He shall not pass. Drink! There are pearls in the cup.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">A Girl, a Veronese</span> [<i>taking it from her</i>].</span> -<span class="i27">No—sleep!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">A Man</span> [<i>with a wand</i>].  Dreams!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">The King in Rags.</span>  Frenzy!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">A Nun.</span> <span class="ws3">Sacrament!</span></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">A Drunkard.</span>  A jest!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">A Roman Wife.</span> Here’s coals for bread.</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">The Egyptian</span> [<i>A man in armour has flung his arm about her neck</i>]. </span> -<span class="i21">Eat, drink and pass again</span> -<span class="i21">To the lost sunshine and the passionate nights,</span> -<span class="i21">And tell the world our story!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Let me go!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">All the Shadows.</span> Never, never, never! To the end of time we follow,</span> -<span class="i17">Follow, follow, follow!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Threads and floating wisps</span> -<span class="i13">Of being, how they fasten like a cloud</span> -<span class="i13">Of gnats upon me, not to be shaken off</span> -<span class="i13">Unsatisfied—</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">The Shadows.</span>   Sing! Sing!</span> -</div></div> - -<p><i>There is a strain of music: the crowd hides</i> <span class="smcap">Shakespeare</span>: -<i>the three masked players have drifted free of the turmoil.</i></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Child</span> [<i>delighted</i>]. He does it quite as well as Orpheus.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">Who are these dreams?</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Child.</span> <span class="ws3">The people of the plays. And there are the Fates at -last! That’s the end of my part. Now you must talk to them till your -husband comes. He comes when you scream.</span></p> - -<p class="center"><i>He picks up his bow and runs away.</i></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">Come back! Stay by me!</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Child</span> [<i>laughing</i>]. Play your part alone.</p> - -<p class="blockquot"><i>He is lost in the crowd</i>. <span -class="smcap">The Masks</span> <i>have drawn near. The first is small -and closely veiled and carries the distaff. The second is tall: part -of her face shows white: her hands are empty. The third is bowed and -crowned: she carries the shears.</i> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">These are all dreams -or I am mad. Who are you?</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">First Mask.</span>  His fate. I hold the thread.</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">I’ll see you!</span></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">First Mask.</span>  No!</span> -</div></div> - -<p class="center"><i>As she retreats the</i> <span class="smcap">Second Mask</span> <i>takes -the distaff from her.</i></p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Second Mask.</span> I tangle it.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">Who are you?</span></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Second Mask.</span> Fate! his fate!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">Drop the bright mask and let me see!</span></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i12"><i>The</i> <span class="smcap">Second Mask</span> <i>drops her veil and</i></span> -<span class="i13"><i>shows the face of a dark lady.</i></span> -<span class="i37">It needs not!</span> -<span class="i15">I knew, I knew! Barren the ground beneath,</span> -<span class="i15">No flowers, no fruit, spent arrows—</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i10"><i>The</i> <span class="smcap">Second Mask</span> <i>makes way for the</i></span> -<span class="i9"><span class="smcap">Third</span> <i>who takes the tangle from her. The</i></span> -<span class="i9"><span class="smcap">Second Mask</span> <i>glides away.</i></span> -<span class="i37">Not the shears!</span> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Third Mask</span> [<i>winding the thread</i>].</span> -<span class="i18">Not yet!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">Who are you?</span></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Third Mask.</span> Fate! his fate!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">A crown!</span></span> -<span class="i13">My snake should know its fellow—is it so?</span> -<span class="i20"><i>The mask is lifted and reveals the face of</i> <span class="smcap">Elizabeth.</span></span> -<span class="i13">I do not fear the Queen—</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Third Mask.</span> Take back the thread!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i5"><i>She gives the distaff to the</i> <span class="smcap">First Mask</span> <i>who</i></span> -<span class="i10"><i>has reappeared beside her and glides away.</i></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">But you I fear, O shrinking fate! what fate?</span></span> -<span class="i13">What first and last fate? Show me your face, I say!</span> -<span class="i19"><i>She tears off the mask. The face revealed</i> <i>is the face of</i> <span class="smcap">Anne</span>. <i>She screams.</i></span> -<span class="i13">Myself! I saw myself! Will! Will!</span> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">The Child.</span>  <i>kneeling at the -hearth stirs the fire and a bright flame shoots up that lights the -whole room. It is empty save for the few players gathering together -their bundles and</i> <span class="smcap">Shakespeare</span> <i>who has -hurried to</i> <span class="smcap">Anne</span>. <i>His hand, gripping her -shoulder, steadies her as she sways.</i></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Still railing?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Child</span> [<i>to his father</i>]. She’s a poor frightened lady and -she cried. I like her.</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">Gone! Gone! Where are they? Call them back! I saw—</span></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> What folly! These are players and my friends;</span> -<span class="i13">You could have given them food at least and served them.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">I saw—I saw—</span></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Henslowe</span> [<i>coming up to them</i>].</span> -<span class="i13"> So, are you ready? The moon is high: we must be going.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> I’ll follow instantly.</span> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">The Players</span> <i>trail out by twos and -threes. They pass the window and repass it on the further side of the -hedge. They are a black, fantastic frieze, upon the yellow, winter -sky.</i> <span class="smcap">Henslowe</span> <i>goes first: the king’s -crown is crooked, and the child is riding on his back: the masks come last.</i> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span></p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">The Players</span> [<i>singing</i>].</span> -<span class="i12">Come away to London,</span> -<span class="i14">Folly, come away!</span> -<span class="i12">You’ll make your fortune</span> -<span class="i14">Thrice in a day.</span> -<span class="i10">Paddocks leave and winter byres,</span> -<span class="i10">London has a thousand spires,</span> -<span class="i14">A-chiming, a-rhyming,</span> -<span class="i14">Oh, London Town!</span> -<span class="i14">The snow will fall</span> -<span class="i14">And cover all</span> -<span class="i14">Without you, without you,</span> -<span class="i10">And the world get on without you—</span> -<span class="i14">Oh, London Town!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i8"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare</span> <i>goes hurriedly to the table and picks up his books.</i></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">Will!</span></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> For your needs</span> -<span class="i13">You have the farm. Farewell!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne</span> [<i>catching at his arm</i>]   For pity’s sake!</span> -<span class="i13">I’m so beset with terrors not my own—</span> -<span class="i13">What have you loosed upon me? I’ll not be left</span> -<span class="i13">In this black house, this kennel of chained grief,</span> -<span class="i13">This ghost-run. Take me with you! No, stay by me!</span> -<span class="i13">These are but dreams of evil. Shall we not wake</span> -<span class="i13">Drowsily in a minute? Oh, bless’d waking</span> -<span class="i13">To peace and sunshine and no evil done!</span> -<span class="i13">Count out the minute—</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> If ever I forget</span> -<span class="i13">The evil done me, I’ll forget the spring,</span> -<span class="i13">And Avon, and the blue ways of the sky,</span> -<span class="i13">And my own mother’s face.</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">Do I say “forget”?</span></span> -<span class="i13">I say “remember”! When you’ve staked all, all,</span> -<span class="i13">Upon your one throw—when you’ve lost—remember!</span> -<span class="i13">And done the evilest thing you would not do,</span> -<span class="i13">Self-forced to the vile wrong you would not do,</span> -<span class="i13">Me in that hour remember!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Let me go!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne</span> [<i>she is on the ground, clinging to him</i>].</span> -<span class="i13">Remember! See, I do not pray “forgive”!</span> -<span class="i13">Forgive? Forgiving is forgetting—no,</span> -<span class="i13">Remember me! Remember, when your sun</span> -<span class="i13">Blazes the noon down, that my sun is set,</span> -<span class="i13">Extinct and cindered in a bitter sea,</span> -<span class="i13">And warm me with a thought. For we are bound</span> -<span class="i13">Closer than love or chains or marriage binds:</span> -<span class="i13">We went by night and each in other’s heart</span> -<span class="i13">Sowed tares, sowed tears. Husband, when harvest comes,</span> -<span class="i13">Of all your men and women I alone</span> -<span class="i13">Can give you comfort, for you’ll reap my pain</span> -<span class="i13">As I your loss. What other knows our need?</span> -<span class="i13">Dear hands, remember, when you hold her, thus,</span> -<span class="i13">Close, close—</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Let go my hands!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne.</span><span class="ws3_5">—and when she turns</span></span> -<span class="i13">To stone, to a stone, to an unvouchsafing stone</span> -<span class="i13">Under your clutch—</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> You rave!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne.</span><span class="ws3_5">—loved hands, remember</span></span> -<span class="i13">Me unloved then, and how my hands held you!</span> -<span class="i13">And when her face—for I am prophecy—</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span> -<span class="i13">When her lost face, the woman I am not,</span> -<span class="i13">Stares from the page you toil upon, thus, thus,</span> -<span class="i13">In a glass of tears, remember then that thus,</span> -<span class="i13">No other way,</span> -<span class="i13">I see your face between my work and me,</span> -<span class="i13">Always!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Make end and let me go!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne</span> [<i>she has risen</i>]. <span class="ws3">Why, go!</span></span> -<span class="i13">But mock me not with any “Let me go”!</span> -<span class="i13">I do not hold you. Ah, but when you’re old</span> -<span class="i13">(You will be old one day, as I am old</span> -<span class="i13">Already in my heart), too weary-old</span> -<span class="i13">For love, hate, pity, anything but peace,</span> -<span class="i13">When the long race, O straining breast! is won,</span> -<span class="i13">And the bright victory drops to your outstretched hand,</span> -<span class="i13">A windfall apple, not worth eating, then</span> -<span class="i13">Come back to me—</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare</span> [<i>at the door</i>]. Farewell!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne.</span><span class="ws3_5">—when all your need</span></span> -<span class="i13">Is hands to serve you and a breast to die on,</span> -<span class="i13">Come back to me—</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Never in any world!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i17"><i>He goes out as the last figure passes the window, and disappears.</i></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">The Players’ Voices</span> [<i>dying away</i>].</span> -<span class="i22">For snow will fall</span> -<span class="i22">And cover all</span> -<span class="i22">Without you, without you—</span> -<span class="i26"><i>The words are lost.</i></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare</span> [<i>joyfully.</i>] Ah! London Town</span> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span> -<i>He is seen an instant, a silhouette with outstretched arms. Then he, -too, disappears and there is a long silence. A cold wind blows in -through the open door. The room is quite dark and the fire has fallen -to ashes.</i></p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne</span> [<i>crying out suddenly</i>].</span> -<span class="i16">The years—the years before me!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Mrs. Hathaway</span> [<i>calling</i>]. Anne! Where’s Anne?</span> -<span class="i28"><i>She comes in at the side door.</i></span> -<span class="i24">Anne! Anne! Where are you? Why, what do you here,</span> -<span class="i24">In the cold, in the dark, and all alone?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> <span class="ws3_5">I wait.</span></span> -</div></div> -<p class="center">THE CURTAIN FALLS.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span></p> -<hr class="chap" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span></p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="ACT_II">ACT II.</h2> -<h3><span class="smcap">Scene I.</span></h3> -</div> - -<p class="blockquot_intro"> <i>A room at the Palace</i>. <span -class="smcap">Elizabeth</span> <i>sits at a working table. She is -upright, vigorous, with an ivory white skin and piercing eyes. Her -hair is dark red and stiffly dressed. She is old, as an oak or a -cliff or a cathedral is old—there is no frailty of age in -her. Her gestures are measured, she moves very little, and frowns -oftener than she smiles, but her smile, when it does come, is -kindly. Her voice is strong, rather harsh, but clear. She speaks -her words like a scholar, but her manner is that of a woman of the -world, shrewd and easy. Her dress is a black-green brocade, stiff -with gold and embroidered with coloured stones. Beside her stands</i> -<span class="smcap">Henslowe</span>, <i>ten years older, stouter -and more prosperous. In the background</i> <span class="smcap">Mary Fitton</span>, -<i>a woman of twenty-six, sits at the virginals, -fingering out a tune very faintly and lightly. She is taller than</i> -<span class="smcap">Elizabeth</span>, <i>pale, with black hair, a -smiling mouth and brilliant eyes. She is quick and graceful as a -cat, and her voice is the voice of a singer, low and full. She wears -a magnificent black and white dress with many pearls. A red rose is -tucked behind her ear.</i></p> - -<p class="space-above1"><span class="smcap">Elizabeth.</span> Money, -money! Always more money! Henslowe, you’re a leech! And I’m a Gammer -Gurton to let myself be bled. Let the public pay!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span> Madam, they’ll do that fast -enough if we may call ourselves Your Majesty’s Players. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Elizabeth.</span> No, no, you’re not yet -proven. What do you give me? Good plays enough, but what great play? -What has England, what have I, to match against them when they talk -to me of their Tasso, their Petrarch, their Rabelais—of Divine -Comedies and the plays of Spain? Are we to climb no higher than the -Germans with their ‘Ship of Fools’?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span> ‘The Faery Queen’?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Elizabeth.</span> Unfinished.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span> Green—Peele—Kyd—Webster—</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Elizabeth.</span> Stout English -names—not names for all the world. I will pay you no more good -English pounds a year and fib to my treasurer to account for them. -You head a deputation, do you? You would call yourselves the Queen’s -Players, and mount a crown on your curtains? Give me a great play -then—a royal play—a play to set against France and Italy -and Spain, and you can have your patent.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span> There’s ‘Tamburlaine’!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Elizabeth.</span> A boy’s glory, not a man’s.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span> ‘Faust’ and ‘The Jew of Malta’!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Elizabeth.</span> I know them.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span> He’ll do greater things yet.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Elizabeth.</span> Do you believe that, Henslowe?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span> No, Madam.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Elizabeth.</span> Then why do you lie to me?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span> Madam, I mark time. I have my man; -but he is not yet ripe.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Elizabeth.</span> How long have you served me, Henslowe?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span> Twelve years.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Elizabeth.</span> How often have you come to me in those -twelve years?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span> Four times, Madam!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Elizabeth.</span> Have I helped or hindered? -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span> I confess it, Madam, I have lived on your wits.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Elizabeth.</span> Then who’s your man?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span> You’ll not trust me. He has done little -before the world.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Elizabeth.</span> Shakespeare?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span> Madam, you know everything. Will you see him? -He and Marlowe are among our petitioners.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Elizabeth.</span> H’m! the Stratford boy! I have not forgotten.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span> Who could have promised better? He came to town -like a conqueror. He took us all with his laughter. You yourself, -Madam—</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Elizabeth.</span> Yes, make us laugh and you may pick all pockets! -He helped you to pick mine.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span> So far good. But he aims no -higher. Yet what he could do if he would! I have a sort of love of -him, Madam. I found him: I taught him: I have daughters enough but -no son. I have wrestled with him like Jacob at Peniel, but when I -think to conquer he tickles my rib and I laugh. That’s his weapon, -Madam! With his laughter he locks the door of his heart against every man.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Elizabeth.</span> And every woman?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span> They say—no, Madam!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Elizabeth.</span> Then we must find her.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Henslowe</span> [<i>with a glance at</i> <span class="smcap">Mary Fitton</span>]. -They say she is found already. But a court lady—and a player! It’s -folly, Madam! Now Marlowe would shrug his shoulder and go elsewhere; -but Shakespeare—there is about him in little and great a certain -dogged and damnable constancy that wrecks all. If he cannot have the -moon for his supper, he will starve, Madam, whatever an old fool says -to him.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Elizabeth.</span> Then, Henslowe, we must serve him up the moon. -Mary!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mary</span> [<i>rising and coming down to them</i>]. Madam? -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Elizabeth.</span> Could you hear us?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mary.</span>   I was playing the new song that the Earl set for you.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Elizabeth.</span> For me? But you heard?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mary.</span>   Something of the talk, Madam!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Elizabeth.</span> You go to all the plays, do you not? Which is the -coming man, Mary, Shakespeare or Marlowe.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mary.</span>   If you ask me, Madam, I’m all for the cobbler’s son.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span> Mistress Fitton should give us a sound reason if -she have it, but she has none.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mary.</span>   Only that I don’t know Mr. Marlowe, and I know my -little Shakespeare by heart. I’m an Athenian—I’m always asking for -new tunes.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Elizabeth.</span> Which is Shakespeare? The youngster like a smoking -lamp, all aflare?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mary.</span>   No, Madam! That’s Marlowe. Shakespeare’s a lesser man.</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span>  A lesser man? Marlowe the lamp, say you?</span> -<span class="i13">He’s conflagration, he’s “Armada!” flashed</span> -<span class="i13">From Kent to Cornwall! But this lesser man,</span> -<span class="i13">He’s the far world the beacons can out flare</span> -<span class="i13">One little hour, but, when their flame dies down,</span> -<span class="i13">High o’er the embers in the deep of night</span> -<span class="i13">Behold the star!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Elizabeth.</span>  I forget if ever I saw him.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span>  Madam, if ever you saw him, you would not forget—</span> -<span class="i13">A small, a proud head, like an Arab Christ,</span> -<span class="i13">And noble, madman’s fingers, never still—</span> -<span class="i13">The face still though, mouth hid, the nostril wide,</span> -<span class="i13">And eyes like voices calling, shrill and sad,</span> -<span class="i13">Borne on hot winds from fairyland or hell;</span> -<span class="i13">Yet round the heavy lids a score of lines</span> -<span class="i13">All criss-cross crinkle like a score of laughs</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span> -<span class="i13">That he has scribbled hastily down himself</span> -<span class="i13">With his quick fingers. No, not tall—</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Elizabeth.</span>  But a man!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> <span class="ws3">Like other men.</span></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Elizabeth.</span>  Ah?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> <span class="ws3">It was easy.</span></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Elizabeth.</span>  Tell!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> <span class="ws3">He came like a boy to apples. Marlowe now—</span></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Elizabeth.</span>  More than a man, less than a man, but not</span> -<span class="i13">As yet a man then? Well, I’ll see your Shakespeare:</span> -<span class="i13">Marlowe—some other time.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span>  I’ll fetch him to you.</span> -<span class="i15"><span class="smcap">Henslowe</span> <i>goes out.</i></span> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Elizabeth.</span>  To you, Mary—to you!</span> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> <span class="ws3">O Madam, spare me! -It’s a stiff instrument and once, I think, has been ill-tuned.</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Elizabeth.</span>  Tune it afresh!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> <span class="ws3">You wish that, Madam?</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Elizabeth.</span>  I wish it. Marlowe can wait—and Pembroke.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> <span class="ws3">Madam?</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Elizabeth.</span>  I am blind, deaf, dumb, so long as you practise -your new tune. But the Earl of Pembroke goes to Ireland.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> <span class="ws3">He’s an old glove, Madam.</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Elizabeth.</span>  Young or old, not for your wearing. Strip your -hand and finger your new tune!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> <span class="ws3">Now, Madam?</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Elizabeth.</span>  Why not? Why do I dress you -and keep you at court? Here’s Spain in the ante-room and France on -the stairs—am I to keep them waiting while I humour a parcel of -players?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> <span class="ws3">Indeed, Madam, I wonder -that you have spared half an hour.</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Elizabeth.</span>  Wonder, Mary! Wonder! And when you know why -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span> -I do what I do you shall be Queen instead of me. In the meantime you -may learn the trade, if you choose. I give you a kingdom to rule -in the likeness of a poor player. Let me see how you do it! Yet -mark this—though with fair cheeks and black hair you may come by a -coronet (but the Earl goes to Ireland) yet if you rule your kingdom -by the glance of your eyes, you will lose it as other Maries have done.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> <span class="ws3">I must reign in my own -way—forgive me, Madam!—not yours.</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Elizabeth.</span> Girl, do you think you could ever rule in mine? -Well, try your way! But—between queens, Mary—one kingdom at a time!</p> - -<p><span class="ws3"><span class="smcap">Elizabeth</span> <i>goes out.</i></span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mary</span> [<i>she sits on the table edge, swinging her pretty -foot</i>]. So Pembroke goes to Ireland! Ay, and comes back, old winter! -I can wait. And while I wait—Shakespeare! Will Shakespeare! O -charity—I wish it were Marlowe! What did the old woman say? A -kingdom in the likeness of a player. I wonder. Well, we’ll explore. -Yet I wish it were Marlowe. [<span class="smcap">Shakespeare</span> <i>enters.</i>] Ah! here -comes poor Mr. Shakespeare looking for the Queen and finding—</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> The Queen!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> <span class="ws3"> Hush! Palace walls! Well, Mr. Shakespeare, -what’s the news?</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Good, bad and indifferent.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> <span class="ws3"> Take the bad first.</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> The bad?—that I have not seen you some five -weeks! The good—that I have now seen you some five seconds! The -indifferent—that you do not care one pin whether I see you or not -for the next five years!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> <span class="ws3"> Who told you that, Solomon?</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> I have had no answer to—</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> <span class="ws3"> Five letters, seven sonnets, -two catches and a roundelay!</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Love’s Labour Lost! -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> <span class="ws3"> Ah, Mr. Shakespeare, you were not a Solomon then! -There was too much Rosaline and too little Queen in that labour.</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> You’re right! Solomon would have drawn all -Rosaline and no Queen at all. I’ll write another play!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> <span class="ws3"> It might pay you better than your sonnets.</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Do you read them—Rosaline?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> <span class="ws3"> Most -carefully, Mr. Shakespeare—on Saturday nights! Then I make -up my accounts and empty my purse, and wonder—must I pawn my -jewels? Then I cry. And then I read your latest sonnet and laugh again.</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> You should not laugh.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> <span class="ws3"> Why, is it not meant to move me?</span></p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> You should not laugh. I tell you such a thought,</span> -<span class="i13">Such fiery lava welling from a heart,</span> -<span class="i13">So crystalled in the wonder-working brain,</span> -<span class="i13">Mined by the soul and rough-cut into words</span> -<span class="i13">Fit for a poet’s faceting and, last,</span> -<span class="i13">Strung on a string of gold by a golden tongue—</span> -<span class="i13">Why, such a thought is an immortal jewel</span> -<span class="i13">To gild you, living, in men’s eyes, and after</span> -<span class="i13">To make you queen of all the unjewelled dead</span> -<span class="i13">Who bear not their least bracelet hence. For I,</span> -<span class="i13">Eternally I’d deck you, were you my own,</span> -<span class="i13">Would you but wear my necklaces divine,</span> -<span class="i13">My rings of sorcery, my crowns of song.</span> -<span class="i13">What chains of emeralds—did you but know!</span> -<span class="i13">My rubies, O my rubies—could you but see!</span> -<span class="i13">And this one gem of wonder, pearl of pearls,</span> -<span class="i13">Hid in my heart for you, could you but take,</span> -<span class="i13">Would you but take—</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> <span class="ws3"> Open your heart!</span></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Not so.</span> -<span class="i13">The god who made it hath forgot the key,</span> -<span class="i13">Or lost or lent it.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> <span class="ws3"> Heartless god! Poor heart!</span></span> -<span class="i13">Yet if this key—(is there indeed a key?)</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> No lock without a key, nor heart, nor heart.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Mary.</span><span class="ws3"> —were found one day and strung with other keys</span></span> -<span class="i15">Upon my ring?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> With other—?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> <span class="ws3"> Keys of hearts!</span></span> -<span class="i13">What else?</span> -<span class="i13">Tucked in the casket where my mortals lie—</span> -<span class="i13">Sick pearl, flawed emerald, brooch or coronet—</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> God!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> <span class="ws3"> Why, Jeweller?</span></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Then what they say—</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> <span class="ws3"> They say? What do they say? And what care I?</span></span> -<span class="i13">They say Pembroke?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> They lie! You shall not speak. They lie!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> <span class="ws3"> So little doubt—and you a man! It’s new.</span></span> -<span class="i13">It’s sweet. It will not last. We spoke of keys—</span> -<span class="i13">This heart-key, had I found it, would you buy?</span> -<span class="i13">Come, tempt me with immortal necklaces!</span> -<span class="i13">Come, purchase me with ornaments divine!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> I love you—</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> <span class="ws3"> Well?</span></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> I love you—</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> <span class="ws3_5">Is that all?</span></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> I love you so.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> <span class="ws3"> Why, that’s a common cry,</span></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span> -<span class="i13">I hear it daily, like the London cries,</span> -<span class="i13">“Old chairs to mend!” or “Sweet, sweet lavender!”</span> -<span class="i13">Is this your string of pearls, sixteen a penny?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> D’you laugh at me? I mean it.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> <span class="ws3"> So do they all.</span></span> -<span class="i13">Buy! Buy my lavender! Lady, it’s cheap—</span> -<span class="i13">It’s sweet—new cut—I starve—for Christ’s sake, buy!</span> -<span class="i13">They mean it, all the hoarse-throat, hungry men</span> -<span class="i13">That sell me lavender, that sell me love.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> I put my wares away. I do not sell.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> <span class="ws3"> O pedlar! I had half a mind to buy.</span></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Too late.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> <span class="ws3"> Open your pack again! What haste!</span></span> -<span class="i13">What—not a trinket left me, not a pin</span> -<span class="i13">For a poor lady? Does not the offer hold?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> You did not close.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> <span class="ws3"> I will.</span></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Withdrawn! Withdrawn!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> <span class="ws3"> Renew!</span></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Too late.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> <span class="ws3"> You know your business best;</span></span> -<span class="i13">Yet—what care I?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Or I? Yet—never again</span> -<span class="i22">To buy and sell with you!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> <span class="ws3"> Never again.</span></span> -<span class="i13">Heigh-ho! I sighed, sir.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Yes, I heard you sigh.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> <span class="ws3"> And smiled. At court, sir—</span></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Yes, they buy and sell</span> -<span class="i13">At court. But I know better—give and take!</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Mary</span> [<i>evading him</i>].</span> -<span class="i20">What will you give me if I let you take?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> If you will come with me into my mind—</span> -<span class="i13">How shall I say it? Still you’ll laugh at me!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> <span class="ws3"> Maybe!</span></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> My mind’s not one room stored, but many,</span> -<span class="i13">A house of windows that o’erlook far gardens,</span> -<span class="i13">The hanging gardens of more Babylons</span> -<span class="i13">Than there are bees in a linden tree in June.</span> -<span class="i13">I’m the king-prisoner in his capital,</span> -<span class="i13">Ruling strange peoples of a world unknown,</span> -<span class="i13">Yet there come envoys from the untravelled lands</span> -<span class="i13">That fill my corridors with miracles</span> -<span class="i13">As it were tribute, secretly, by night;</span> -<span class="i13">And I wake in the dawn like Solomon,</span> -<span class="i13">To stare at peacocks, apes and ivory,</span> -<span class="i13">And a closed door.</span> -<span class="i13">And all these stores I give you for your own,</span> -<span class="i13">You shall be mistress of my fairy-lands,</span> -<span class="i13">I’ll ride you round the world on the back of a dream,</span> -<span class="i13">I’ll give you all the stars that ever danced</span> -<span class="i13">In the sea o’ nights,</span> -<span class="i13">If you will come into my mind with me,</span> -<span class="i13">If you will learn me—know me.</span> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> <span class="ws3"> I do know you.<br /> -You are the quizzical Mr. Shakespeare of the ‘Rose,’ who never -means a word he says. I’ve heard of you. All trades hate you -because you are not of their union, and yet know the tricks of each -trade; but your own trade loves you, because you are content with a -crook in the lower branches when you might be top of the tree. -You write comedies, all wit and no wisdom, like a flower-bed raked -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span> -but not dug; but the high stuff of the others, their tragedies and -lamentable ends, these you will not essay. Why not, Mr. Shakespeare -of the fairy-lands?</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Queen Wasp, I do not know.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> <span class="ws3"> King Drone, -then I will tell you. You are the little boy at Christmas who would -not play snap-dragon till the flames died down, and so was left at -the end with a cold raisin in an empty dish. That’s you, that’s you, -with the careful fingers and no good word in your plays for any -woman. Run home, run home, there’s no more to you!</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> D’you think so?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> <span class="ws3"> I think that I think so.</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> I’ll show you.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> <span class="ws3"> What will you show me, Will?</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Fairyland, and you and me in it. -Will you believe in me then?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> <span class="ws3"> Not I, not I! -I’m a woman of this world. Give me flesh and blood, not gossamer,</span></p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i25">Honey and heart-ache, and a lovers’ moon.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> I read of lovers once in Italy—</span> -<span class="i13">She was like you, such eyes of night, such hair.</span> -<span class="i13">God took a week to make his world, but these</span> -<span class="i13">In four short days made heaven to burn on earth</span> -<span class="i13">Like a great torch; and when they died—</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> <span class="ws3"> They died?</span></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Like torches quenched in water, suddenly,</span> -<span class="i13">Because they loved too well.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> <span class="ws3"> Oh, write it down!</span></span> -<span class="i13">Ah, could you, Will? I think you could not write it.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> I can write Romeo. Teach me Juliet!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> <span class="ws3"> I could if I would. Was that her name—Juliet?</span></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Poor Juliet!</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> <span class="ws3"> Not so poor -if I know her. Oh, make that plain—she was not poor! And tell -them, Will, tell all men and women—</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> What, my heart?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> <span class="ws3"> I will whisper -it to you one day when I know you better. Oh, it’ll be a play! Will -you do it for me, Will? Will you write it for you and for me? Where -do they live?</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Verona. Italy.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> <span class="ws3"> Come to me -daily! Read it to me scene by scene, line by line! How many acts?</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> The old five-branched candlestick.</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> <span class="ws3"> But a new flame! Will it take long to write?</span></span> -<span class="i13">It must not.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Shall not.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> <span class="ws3"> What shall we call it, Will?</span></span> -<span class="i13">The Tragical Discourse? The Famous End?</span> -<span class="i13">The Lovers of Verona?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> No, no! Plain.</span> -<span class="i13">Their two names married—Romeo and Juliet.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i14"><i>As they lean towards each other still talking</i></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i20">THE CURTAIN FALLS.</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span> -</div></div> - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> -<p class="f150" id="ACT_II_2"><b>ACT II</b>.</p> -<h3><span class="smcap">Scene II.</span></h3> -</div> - -<p class="blockquot_intro"> -<i>The first performance of Romeo and Juliet: the end of the fourth -act. The curtain rises on a small bare dusty office, littered -with stage properties and dresses. When the door at the back of -the stage is open there is a glimpse of passage and curtains, and -moving figures, with now and then a flare of torchlight. There is a -continuous far-away murmur of voices and, once in a while, applause. -As the curtain goes up</i> <span class="smcap">Mary Fitton</span> <i>is -opening the door to go out</i>. <span class="smcap">Shakespeare</span> -<i>holds her back</i>. </p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> <span class="ws3"> Let go! Let me -go! I must be in front at the end of that act. I must hear what the -Queen will say to it.</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> But you’ll come back?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> <span class="ws3"> That depends -on what the Queen says. I’ve promised you nothing if she damns it.</span></p> - -<p class="center"><i>The applause breaks out again.</i></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Listen! Is it damned?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> <span class="ws3"> Sugar-sweet, -isn’t it? But that’s nothing. That’s the mob. That’s your friends. -They’ll clap you. But the Queen, if she claps, claps your play.</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Your play!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> <span class="ws3"> Is it mine? Earnest?</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> My earnest, but your play.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> <span class="ws3"> Well, good luck to my play!</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Give me—</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> <span class="ws3"> Oh, so it’s not a free gift? -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span></span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Give me a finger-tip of thanks!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> <span class="ws3"> In advance? -Not I! But if the Queen likes it—I’m her obedient servant. -If the Queen opens her hand I shan’t shut mine. Where she claps -once I’ll clap twice. Where she gives you a hand to kiss, I’ll give -you—There! Curtain’s down! I must go.</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Mary!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> <span class="ws3"> Listen to it! -Listen! Listen! This is better than any poor Mary.</span></p> - -<p class="center"><i>She goes out. The door is left open. -The applause breaks out again.</i></p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Is this the golden apple in my hand</span> -<span class="i13">At last?</span> -<span class="i13">How tastes it, heart, and is it sweet, is it sweet?</span> -<span class="i13">Sweeter than common apples? So many years</span> -<span class="i13">Of days I watched it grow and propped and pruned,</span> -<span class="i13">Besought the sun and watered. O my tree</span> -<span class="i13">When the green broke! That was a morning hour.</span> -<span class="i13">Fool, so to long for fruit! Now the fruit’s ripe.</span> -<span class="i13">The tree in spring was fairest, when it flowered,</span> -<span class="i13">And every petal held a drink of dew.</span> -<span class="i13">The bloom went long ago. Well, the fruit’s here!</span> -<span class="i13">Hark!</span> -<span class="i19"><i>The applause breaks out again.</i></span> -<span class="i13">It goes well. Eat up your apple, man!</span> -<span class="i13">This is the hour, the hour! I’m the same man—</span> -<span class="i13">No better for it. When Marlowe praised me so</span> -<span class="i13">He meant it—meant it. I thought he laughed at me</span> -<span class="i13">In his sleeve. Will Shakespeare! Romeo and Juliet!</span> -<span class="i13">I made it—I! Indeed, indeed, at heart—</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span> -<span class="i13">(I would not for the world they read my heart:</span> -<span class="i13">I’d scarce tell Mary) but indeed, at heart,</span> -<span class="i13">I know no song was ever sung before</span> -<span class="i13">Like this my lovely song. <i>I</i> made it—I!</span> -<span class="i13">It has not changed me. I’m the same small man,</span> -<span class="i13">And yet I made it! Strange! [<i>A knock.</i>]</span> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Stage Hand</span> [<i>putting in his head at the door</i>]. -You’ll not see anyone, sir, will you?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> I told you already I’ll come to the green-room -when the show’s over. I can see no stranger before.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Stage Hand.</span> So I’ve told her, sir, many times. But she says -you will know her when you see her and she can’t wait.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> A lady?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Stage Hand.</span> No, no, sir, just a woman. I’ll tell her to -go away again.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Wait! Did she give no name?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Stage Hand.</span> Name of Hathaway, sir, from Stratford.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Anne! Bring her here! -Bring her here quickly, privately! You should have told me sooner. -Where does she wait? Did any see her? Did any speak with her? If -anyone asks for me save Henslowe or Mr. Marlowe, I am gone, I am not -in the theatre. What are you staring at? What are you waiting for? -Bring her here!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Stage Hand.</span> Glad to be rid of -her, sir! She has sat in the passage this hour to be tripped over, -and nothing budges her. [<i>Calling</i>] Will you come this way—this -way! [<i>He disappears.</i>]</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Anne? Anne in London? What does Anne in London?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Stage Hand</span> [<i>returning</i>]. -This way, this way! It’s a dark passage. This way!</p> - -<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Mrs. Hathaway</span> <i>comes in.</i></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span>   Not Anne! -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Hathaway.</span> Is Mr. Shakespeare—? Will! Is it Will? -Oh, how you’re changed!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span>   Ten years change a young man.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Hathaway.</span> But not an old woman. I’m Anne’s mother still.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span>   I’m not so -changed that I forget it. What do you want of me, Mrs. Hathaway?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Hathaway.</span> I bring you news.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span>   Good news?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Hathaway.</span> It’s as you take it.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span>   Dead?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Hathaway.</span> Is that good news, my half son? -She is not so blessed.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span>   I did not say it so. Is she with you?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Hathaway.</span> No.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span>   Did she send -you? Oh, so she has heard of this business! It’s like her to send you -now. She is to take her toll of it, is she?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Hathaway.</span> You are bitter, you are -bitter! You are the east wind of your own spring sunshine. She has -heard nothing of this business or of that—dark lady.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span>   Take care!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Hathaway.</span> I saw her come from this -room—off her guard. I know how a woman looks when a man has -pleased her. Oh, please her if you must! I am old. I do not judge. -And I think you will not always. But that’s not my news.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span>   I can’t -hear it now. I am pressed. This is not every night. I’ll see you -to-morrow, not now.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Hathaway.</span> My news may be dead to-morrow.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span>   So much the better. I needn’t hear it.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Hathaway.</span> Son, son, son! You don’t know what you say.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span>   That is not my -name. And I know well what I say. You are my wife’s mother and -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span> -I’ll not share anything of hers. But if she needs money, I’ll send -it. To-night makes me a rich man.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Hathaway.</span> Richer than you -think—and to-morrow poorer, if you do not listen to me.</p> - -<p class="center"><i>There is a roar of applause.</i></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span>   Listen to -you? Why should I listen to you? Can you give me anything to better -that?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Hathaway.</span> But if she can? Sixty -years I have learned lessons in the world; but I never learned that a -city was better than green fields, friends better than a house-mate, -or the works of a man’s hand more to him than the child of his own flesh.</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span>   And have I learned it, I? Do I not know</span> -<span class="i16">That when I left her I left all behind</span> -<span class="i16">That was my right? See how I live my life—</span> -<span class="i16">Married nor single, neither bond nor free,</span> -<span class="i16">My future mortgaged for a roofless home!</span> -<span class="i16">For though I love I must not say “I love you,</span> -<span class="i16">Come to my hearth!” A child? I have no child:</span> -<span class="i16">I hear no voice crying to me o’ nights</span> -<span class="i16">Out of the frost-bound dark. How can it cry</span> -<span class="i16">Or smile at me until I give it lips?</span> -<span class="i16">How can it clutch me till I give it hands?</span> -<span class="i16">How can it be, until I give it leave?</span> -<span class="i16">Small sparrow at the window-pane, a’cold,</span> -<span class="i16">Begging your crumb of life from me, indeed</span> -<span class="i16">I cannot let you in. Small love, small sweet,</span> -<span class="i16">Look not so trustfully! You are not mine,</span> -<span class="i16">Not mine, not anyone’s. Away, unborn!</span> -<span class="i16">Back to the womb of dreams, and never stir,</span> -<span class="i16">Never again! How meek the small ghost fades,</span> -<span class="i16">Reject and fatherless, that might have been</span> -<span class="i16">My son!</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Mrs. Hathaway.</span> Is it possible? Anne knew you best.</span> -<span class="i16">She said you did not know. Dear son, too soon</span> -<span class="i16">By two last months, yet by these months too late.</span> -<span class="i16">After you left her, Hamnet, the boy, was born.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span>   It is not true!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Mrs. Hathaway.</span> Ah, ah, she knew you best.</span> -<span class="i16">She said always, weeping she said always</span> -<span class="i16">You would not listen, though she sent you word;</span> -<span class="i16">But when the boy was grown she’d send the boy,</span> -<span class="i16">Then you would listen and come home, come home.</span> -<span class="i16">But now that web is tattered in its turn</span> -<span class="i16">By a cold wind, an out-of-season wind,</span> -<span class="i16">Tearing the silver webs, blacking the leaves</span> -<span class="i16">And shaking the first blossoms down too soon,</span> -<span class="i16">Too soon, too soon. He shivered and lay down</span> -<span class="i16">Among pinched violets and the wrack of spring;</span> -<span class="i16">But when the sky drew breath and April came,</span> -<span class="i16">And summer with tanned fingers, beckoning up</span> -<span class="i16">New flowers from the ground, still our flower drooped:</span> -<span class="i16">The sunlight hurt his eyes, his bed’s too hot,</span> -<span class="i16">He drinks and will not eat: since Saturday</span> -<span class="i16">There’s but one end.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span>   What end?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Mrs. Hathaway.</span> You’re stubborn as she.</span> -<span class="i16">She will not bow to it. Yet she sent me hither</span> -<span class="i16">To bring you home.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span>   New witch-work!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Mrs. Hathaway.</span> Will you not come?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span>   I will not.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Mrs. Hathaway.</span> Will you not come? She bade me say</span> -<span class="i16">That the boy cries for you—</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span>   A lie! A gross lie!</span> -<span class="i16">He never called me father.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Mrs. Hathaway.</span></span> -<span class="i35">That he does!</span> -<span class="i16">You are his Merlin and his Arthur too,</span> -<span class="i16">And God-Almighty Sundays. Thus it goes—</span> -<span class="i16">“My Father says—” and “When my Father comes—”</span> -<span class="i16">“I’ll tell my Father!” To his mother’s hand</span> -<span class="i16">He clings and whispers in his fever now,</span> -<span class="i16">With bright eyes wide—your eyes, son, your quick eyes—</span> -<span class="i16">That she shall fetch you (she? she cannot speak)</span> -<span class="i16">To bring him wonders home like Whittington,</span> -<span class="i16">(And where’s your cat?) and tell the tales you know</span> -<span class="i16">Of Puck and witches, and the English kings,</span> -<span class="i16">To whistle down the birds as Orpheus did,</span> -<span class="i16">And for a silver penny pick the moon</span> -<span class="i16">From the sky’s pocket, and buy him gingerbread—</span> -<span class="i16">And so he rambles on, breaking her heart</span> -<span class="i16">A second time, God help her!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span>   I will come.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">A Man’s Voice</span> [<i>off the stage</i>].</span> -<span class="i18">Shakespeare!  Will Shakespeare!  Call Will Shakespeare!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare</span> [<i>to</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs. Hathaway</span>].   Here!</span> -<span class="i16">When do we start?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Mrs. Hathaway.</span> The horses wait at the inn.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Voice.</span> <span class="ws3">   Will Shakespeare!</span></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span>   Give me an hour. The bridge is nearer.</span> -<span class="i16">On London Bridge at midnight! I’ll be there!</span> -</div></div> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span></p> -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Hathaway.</span> Not later, I warn you, if you’d see the -child alive.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span>   Fear not, I’ll -be there. D’you think so ill of me? I could have been a good father -to my own son—if I had known. If I had known! This is a woman’s -way of enduring a wrong. Oh, dumb beast! Could she not send for -me—send to me? Am I a monster that she could not come to me? -“Buy him gingerbread”! To send me no word till he’s dying! Would any -she-devil in hell do so to a man? Dying? I tell you he shall live and -not die. There was a man once fought death for a friend and held him. -Can I not fight death for my own son? Can I not beat death off for an -hour, for a little hour, till I have kissed my only son?</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Marlowe’s Voice.</span>   Shakespeare! The Queen—the Queen has asked for you,</span> -<span class="i20">And sent her woman twice. Will Shakespeare! Will!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> At midnight then.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i20"><span class="smcap">Mrs. Hathaway</span> <i>goes out.</i></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Voice.</span> <span class="ws3_5">Will Shakespeare!</span></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Coming! Coming!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Mary</span> [<i>in the doorway, followed by</i> <span class="smcap">Marlowe</span>].</span> -<span class="i20">Is Shakespeare—?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Oh, not now, not now, not now!</span> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> <span class="ws2_5">Are you mad to -keep her waiting? She has favours up her sleeve. You are to write her -a play for the summer revels. Quick now, ere the last act begins! Off -with you! [<span class="smcap">Shakespeare</span> <i>goes out.</i>] Look -how he drags away! What’s come to the man to fling aside his luck?</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Marlowe.</span> He has left it behind him.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mary.</span>    Here’s a proxy silver-tongue! Are you Mr. Marlowe?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Marlowe.</span> Are you Mistress Fitton?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mary.</span>    So we’ve heard of each other!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Marlowe.</span> What have you heard of me? -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mary.</span>    That you were -somebody’s brother-in-art! What have you heard of me?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Marlowe.</span> That you were his sister-in-art.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mary.</span>    A man’s sister! I’d -as soon be a cold pudding! What did he say of his sister, brother?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Marlowe.</span> That you brought him luck.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mary.</span>    That he leaves behind him!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Marlowe.</span> Like the blind man’s lucky -sixpence that the Jew stole when he put a penny in his plate.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mary.</span>    A Jew of Malta?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Marlowe.</span> What, do <i>you</i> read me? You?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A Stage Hand</span> [<i>in the passage</i>]. -   Last act, please! Last act! Last act!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mary.</span>    I must go watch it.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Marlowe.</span> Don’t you know it?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mary.</span>    Oh, by heart! Yet I must sisterly watch it.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Marlowe.</span> Stay a little.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mary.</span>    Till he comes? Then I shall miss all, -for he’ll keep me.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Marlowe.</span> Against your will?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mary.</span>    No, with my Will.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Marlowe.</span> Is it he or his plays?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mary.</span>    Not sure.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Marlowe.</span> If I were he I’d make you sure.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mary.</span>    I wonder if you could! I wonder—how?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Marlowe.</span> Too long to tell you here, and—curtain’s up!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mary.</span>    Come to my house one lazy day and tell me!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Marlowe.</span> Hark! That’s more noise than curtain!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Henslowe’s Voice.</span>    -Shakespeare! Shakespeare! [<i>Entering.</i>] Here’s a calamity! Where’s -Shakespeare? He should be in the green-room! Why does he tuck away in -this rat-hole when he’s wanted? And what’s to be done? Where in God’s name is Shakespeare? -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mary.</span>    With the Queen.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Marlowe.</span> The curtain’s up; he’ll be here in a minute.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mary.</span>    What’s wrong?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span>  Everything! -Juliet! The clumsy beasts! They let him fall from the bier: they let -him fall on his arm! Now he’s moaning and wincing and swears he can’t -go on, though he has but to speak his death scene. I’ve bid them cut -the afterwards.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Marlowe.</span> Broken?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span> I fear so.</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Mary.</span>    Let it be broken! Say he must go on!</span> -<span class="i11">What? Spoil the play? These baby-men!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span> He will not.</span> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Marlowe.</span> The understudy?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span> Playing Paris. Where’s Shakespeare? What’s to be -done? The play’s spoiled.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Marlowe.</span> He’ll break his heart.</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Mary.</span>    He shall not break his heart!</span> -<span class="i11">This is our play! Back to your Juliet-boy,</span> -<span class="i11">Strip off his wear and never heed his arm!</span> -<span class="i11">Bid them play on and bring me Juliet’s robes!</span> -<span class="i11">I’ll put them on and put on Juliet too.</span> -<span class="i11">Quick, Henslowe!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span> What! a woman play on the stage?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Mary.</span>    Ay, when the men fail! -Quick! I say I’ll do it!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare</span> [<i>entering</i>].</span> -<span class="i20">Here still? You’ve heard?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Mary</span> [<i>on the threshold</i>]. And heeded. Never stop me!</span> -<span class="i22">You shall have Juliet. You shall have your play.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i20"><i>She and</i> <span class="smcap">Henslowe</span> <i>hurry out.</i></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Marlowe.</span>   There goes a man’s master! But does she know the part?</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> She knows each line, she knows each word, she breathed them</span> -<span class="i13">Into my heart long ere I wrote them down.</span> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Marlowe.</span>   But to act! Can you trust her?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> She? Go and watch! I need not.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Marlowe.</span>   But is it in her? She’s Julia not Juliet, not your -young Juliet, not your June morning—or is she?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> You talk! You talk! You talk! What do you -know of her?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Marlowe.</span>   Or you, old Will?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> I dream her.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Marlowe.</span>   Well, pleasant dreams!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> No more. I’m black awake.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Marlowe.</span>   What’s wrong? Ill news?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> From Stratford. Yes, yes, yes, Kit! And it must -come now, just now, after ten dumb years!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Marlowe.</span>   Stratford? Whew! I’d forgotten your nettle-bed. -What does she want of you?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Hark! Mary’s on.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Marlowe.</span>   It’s a voice like the drip of a honey-comb.</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Can she play Juliet, man? Can she play Juliet?</span> -<span class="i13">I think she can. Kit?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Marlowe.</span>   Ay?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Oh, is there peace</span> -<span class="i13">Anywhere, Kit, in any, any world?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Marlowe.</span>   What is it, peace?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> It passeth understanding.</span> -<span class="i13">They round the sermon off on Sunday with it,</span> -<span class="i13">Laugh in their sleeves and send us parching home.</span> -<span class="i13">This is a dew that dries ere Monday comes,</span> -<span class="i13">And oh, the heat of the seven days!</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Marlowe.</span>   I like it!</span> -<span class="i13">The smell of dust, the shouting, and the glare</span> -<span class="i13">Of crowded noon in cities, and such nights</span> -<span class="i13">As this night, crowning labour. What is—peace?</span> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Stage Hand</span> [<i>entering</i>].  Sir, sir, sir, will you come down, -sir, says Mr. Henslowe. The end’s near and the house half mad. We’ve -not seen a night like this since—since <i>your</i> night, sir! Your first -night, sir, your roaring Tamburlaine night! Never anything like it -and I’ve seen many. Will you come, sirs?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> You go, Marlowe!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Stage Hand.</span> There’s nothing to fear, -sir! It runs like clockwork. The lady died well, sir! Lord, who’d -think she was a woman! There, there, it breaks out. Listen to ’em! -Come, sir, come, come!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Marlowe.</span>   We’ll come! We’ll come!</p> - -<p class="center"><i>The man goes out.</i></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Not I! Oh, if you love me, -Marlowe, swear I’m ill, gone away, dead, what you please, but keep -them away! I can stand no more.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Marlowe.</span>   It’s as she said—mad—mad—to -fling your luck away.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> A frost has touched me, -Marlowe, my fruit’s black. Help me now! Go, go! Say I’m gone, as I -shall be when I’ve seen Mary—</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Marlowe.</span>   A back stairs? Now I understand.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Oh, stop your laughter! I’m to leave -London in half an hour.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Marlowe.</span>   Earnest? For long?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Little or long, what matter? -I’ve missed the moment. Who has his moment twice?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Marlowe.</span>   Shall you tell her why you go?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Mary? God forbid!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Voices.</span> <span class="ws3">Shakespeare! Call Shakespeare! -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span></span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> D’you hear them? Help me! Say I am gone! -Oh, go, go!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Marlowe.</span>   Well, if you wish it!</p> - -<p><i>He goes out leaving the door ajar. As</i> <span -class="smcap">Shakespeare</span> <i>goes on speaking the murmurs and -claps die away and the noises of the stage are heard, the shouts of -the scene-shifters, directions being given, and so on. Finally there -is silence.</i></p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Wish it? I wish it? Have you no more for me</span> -<span class="i13">Of comfort, Marlowe?</span> -<span class="i13">Oh, what a dumb and measureless gulf divides</span> -<span class="i13">Star from twin star, and friend from closest friend!</span> -<span class="i13">Women, they say, can bridge it when they will:</span> -<span class="i13">As seamen rope a ship with grappling irons</span> -<span class="i13">These spinners of strong cords invisible</span> -<span class="i13">Make fast and draw the drifting glory home</span> -<span class="i13">In the name of love. I know not. Better go!</span> -<span class="i13">I am not for this harbour—</span> -</div></div> - -<p><i>There is a sound of hasty footsteps and</i> <span class="smcap">Mary Fitton</span> -<i>enters in Juliet’s robes. She stands in the doorway, panting, -exalted, with arms outstretched. The door swings to behind her, -shutting out all sound.</i></p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> <span class="ws3"> Oh, I faced</span></span> -<span class="i13">The peacock of the world, the arch of eyes</span> -<span class="i13">That watched me love a god, the eyes, eyes, eyes,</span> -<span class="i13">That watched me die of love. Wake me again,</span> -<span class="i13">O soul that did inhabit me, O husband</span> -<span class="i13">Whose mind I uttered, to whose will I swayed,</span> -<span class="i13">Whose self of love I was! Wake me again</span> -<span class="i13">To die of love in earnest!</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Mary! Mary!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> <span class="ws3"> I cannot ride this hurricane. I spin</span></span> -<span class="i13">Like a leaf in the air. Die down and let me lie</span> -<span class="i13">Close to the earth I am! O stir me not</span> -<span class="i13">With rosy breathings from the south, the south</span> -<span class="i13">Of sun and wine and peaks that flame to God</span> -<span class="i13">Suddenly in the dark! O wind, let be</span> -<span class="i13">And drive me not; for speech lies on my lips</span> -<span class="i13">Like a strange finger hushing back my soul</span> -<span class="i13">With words not mine, and thoughts not mine arise</span> -<span class="i13">Like marsh-flame dancing! As a leaf to a tree</span> -<span class="i13">Upblown, O wind that whirls me, I return.</span> -<span class="i13">Master and quickener, give me love indeed!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> These are the hands I never held till now:</span> -<span class="i13">These are the lips I never felt on mine:</span> -<span class="i13">This is the hour I dreamed of, many an hour:</span> -<span class="i13">This is the spirit awake. God in your sky,</span> -<span class="i13">Did your heart beat so on the seventh dawn?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> <span class="ws3"> ’Ware thunder!</span></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Sweet, He envies and is dumb,</span> -<span class="i13">Dumb as His dark. He was our audience.</span> -<span class="i13">Now to His blinding centrum home He hies,</span> -<span class="i13">Omnipotent drudge, to wind the clocks of Time</span> -<span class="i13">And tend His ’plaining universes all—</span> -<span class="i13">To us, to us, His empty theatre of night</span> -<span class="i13">Abandoning. But we too steal away;</span> -<span class="i13">For the play’s done,</span> -<span class="i13">Lights out—all over—and here we stand alone,</span> -<span class="i13">Holding each other in a little room,</span> -<span class="i13">Like two souls in one grave. We are such lovers—</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne’s Voice.</span> As there’s no room for in the human air</span> -<span class="i13">And green side of the grass—</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> A voice! A voice!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> <span class="ws3"> No voice here!</span></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> In my heart I heard it cry</span> -<span class="i13">Like a sick child waked suddenly at night.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i21">[<i>Crying out</i>]</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i13">A child—a sick child! Unlink your arms that hold me!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> <span class="ws3"> Never till I choose!</span></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Put back your hair! I am lost</span> -<span class="i13">Unless I lose all gain. O moonless night,</span> -<span class="i13">In your hot darkness I have lost my way!</span> -<span class="i13">But kiss me, summer, once! On London Bridge</span> -<span class="i13">At midnight—I’ll be there! Has the clock struck?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> <span class="ws3"> Midnight long since.</span></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Oh, I am damned and lost</span> -<span class="i13">In hell for ever!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> <span class="ws3"> Fool, dear fool, what harm?</span></span> -<span class="i13">If this be hell indeed, is not hell kind?</span> -<span class="i13">Is not hell lovely, if this love be hell?</span> -<span class="i13">Is not damnation sweet?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> God does not know</span> -<span class="i13">How sweet, how sweet!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> Were they not wise, those two</span> -<span class="i13">Whose same blood beats again in you and me,</span> -<span class="i13">That chose the desert and the fall and went</span> -<span class="i13">Exultant from their garden and their God?</span> -<span class="i13">Long shall the sworded angels stand at ease</span> -<span class="i13">And idly guard the undesired delight:</span> -<span class="i13">Long shall the grasses grow and tall the briars,</span> -<span class="i13">And bent the branches of the ancient trees:</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span> -<span class="i13">And many a year the wilding flowers shall blaze</span> -<span class="i13">Under a lonely sun, and fruited sweets</span> -<span class="i13">Shall drop and rot, and feed the roots that feed,</span> -<span class="i13">And bud again and ripen: long and long</span> -<span class="i13">Silent the watchman-lark in heaven shall hang</span> -<span class="i13">High over Eden, e’er they come again</span> -<span class="i13">Those two, whose blood is our blood, and their love</span> -<span class="i13">Our love, our own, that no god gave us, ours,</span> -<span class="i13">The venture ours, the glory ours, the shame</span> -<span class="i13">A price worth paying, then, now, ever—</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> <span class="ws3"> Eve,</span></span> -<span class="i13">Eve, Eve, the snake has been with you! You draw,</span> -<span class="i13">You drink my soul as I your body—</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> <span class="ws3"> Kiss!</span></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i29">THE CURTAIN FALLS.</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span> -</div></div> - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="ACT_III">ACT III.</h2> -<h3><span class="smcap">Scene I.</span></h3> -</div> - -<p class="blockquot_intro"> -<span class="smcap">Shakespeare’s</span> <i>lodging. It is the -plain but well-arranged room of a man of fair means and fine -taste. The walls are panelled: on them hang a couple of unframed -engravings, a painting, tapestry, and a map of the known -world. There is a four-post bed with a coverlet and hangings -of needlework, and on the window-sill a pot of early summer -flowers. There is a chair or two of oak and a table littered -with papers</i>. <span class="smcap">Shakespeare</span> <i>is sitting -at it, a manuscript in his hand. On the arm of the chair lolls</i> -<span class="smcap">Marlowe</span>, <i>one arm flung round</i> <span -class="smcap">Shakespeare’s</span> <i>neck, reading over his -shoulder.</i></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Man, how you’ve worked! A -whole act to my ten lines! You dice all day and dance all night and -yet—how do you do it?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Marlowe.</span>   Like it?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Like it? What a word for -a word-master! Consider, Kit! When the sun rises like a battle song -over the sea: when the wind’s feet visibly race along the tree-tops -of a ten-mile wood: when they shout “Amen!” in the Abbey, praying for -the Queen on Armada Day: when the sky is a brass gong and the rain -steel rods, and across all suddenly arch the seven colours of the -promise—do I <i>like</i> these wonders when I stammer and weep, and -know that God lives? Like, Marlowe!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Marlowe.</span>   Yes, yes, old -Will! But do you like the new act?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> I like it, Kit!</p> - -<p class="center">[<i>They look at each other and laugh</i>]. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Marlowe.</span>   And now for your scene, ere I go.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> My scene! I give you what I’ve done. -Finish it alone, Kit, and take what it brings! I’m sucked dry.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Marlowe.</span>   I’ve heard that before.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> I wish I had never come to London.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Marlowe.</span>   Henslowe’s back. Seen him?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> I’ve seen no-one. Did the tour go well?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Marlowe.</span>   He says so. He left them at Stratford. -Well, I must go.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Where? To Mary?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Marlowe.</span>   Why should I go to your Mary?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Because I’ve asked you to, often enough. Why -else? You’ve grown to be friends. You could help me if you would.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Marlowe.</span>   Never step between a man and a woman!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> But you’re our friend! And they say you -know women.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Marlowe.</span>   They say many things. They say we’re rivals, -Will—that I shall end by having you hissed.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Let them say! But have you seen Mary? -When did you last see Mary?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Marlowe.</span>   I forget. Saturday.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Did you speak of me, Kit? Kit, -does she speak of me?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Marlowe.</span>   If you must have -it—seldom. New songs, new books, new music—of plays and -players and the Queen’s tantrums—not of you.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> I have not seen her three days.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Marlowe.</span>   Why, go then and see her!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> She has company. She -is waiting on the Queen. She gives me a smile and a white cool -finger-tip, and—“Farewell, Mr. Shakespeare!” Yet a month ago, -ay and less than a month—! Did you give her my message? What -did she say? -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Marlowe.</span>   She laughed and says you dream. -She never liked you better.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Did she say that?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Marlowe.</span>   She says you cool to her, not she to you.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Did she say that?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Marlowe.</span>   Swore it, with tears in her eyes.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Is it so? I wish it were so. Well, you’re my -good friend, Marlowe!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Marlowe.</span>   Oh, leave that!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Kit, do you blame me so much?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Marlowe.</span>   Why should I blame you?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> That I’m here and not in Warwickshire.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Marlowe.</span>   I throw no stones. Why? Have you heard aught?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> No, nor dared -ask—nor dared ask, Marlowe. The boy’s dead. I know it. But I -will not hear it. Marlowe, Marlowe, Marlowe, do you judge me?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Marlowe.</span>   Ay, that -putting your hand to the plough you look back. Would I comb out my -conscience daily as a woman combs out her hair? I do what I choose, -though it damn me! Blame you? The round world has not such another -Mary—or so, had I your eyes, I should hold. For this prize, if -I loved her, I would pay away all I had.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Honour, Kit?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Marlowe.</span>   Honour, Will!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Faith and conscience and an only son?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Marlowe.</span>   It’s my own life. What are children to me?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Well, I have paid.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Marlowe.</span>   But you -grudge—you grudge! Look at you! If you go to her with those -eyes it’s little wonder that she tires of you.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Tires? Who says that she -tires? Who says it?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Marlowe.</span>   Not I, old Will! -Not I! Why, Shakespeare?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Shakespeare</span> [<i>shaken</i>].  I can’t sleep, -Kit! has come to me? I think I go mad. [<i>He starts.</i>] Was that the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span> -I can’t write. What boy on the stairs? I sent him to her. I wrote. -I have waited her will long enough. She shall see me to-night. I’ll -know what it means. She plays with me, Kit. Are you going?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Marlowe.</span>   I shall scarce reach Deptford ere dark.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> How long do you lodge in Deptford?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Marlowe.</span>   All summer.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Henslowe</span> [<i>pounding at the door</i>]. -Who’s at home? Who’s at home?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Marlowe.</span>   That’s Henslowe.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Why does the boy stay so long?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Henslowe</span> [<i>in the doorway</i>]. - Gentlemen, the traveller returns! For the last time, I tell -you! My bones grow too old for barnstorming. Do you go as I come, -Kit? Thank you for nothing!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Marlowe.</span>   Be civil, -Henslowe! ‘The Curtain’ ’s on its knees to me for my next play.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span>   Pooh! This man can serve my turn.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Marlowe.</span>   You see, they’ll -make rivals of us, Will, before they’ve done. I’ll see you soon -again. [<i>He goes out.</i>]</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span>   Well, what’s the -news?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> I sit at home. You roam -England. You can do the talking. How did the tour go?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span>   You’re thin, man! -What’s the matter? Success doesn’t suit you?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> How did the tour go?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span>   By way of Oxford, -Warwick, Kenilworth—</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> I said “how” not -“where.”</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span>  —and Leamington -and Stratford. We played ‘Romeo’ every other night—and to full -houses, my son! I’ve a pocketful of money for you. They liked you -everywhere. As for your townsfolk, they went mad. You can safely go -home, boy! You’ll find Sir Thomas in the front row, splitting his -gloves. He’ll ask you to dinner. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Were you there long?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span>   Two nights.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Did you see—anyone?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span>   Why not say—</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> I say, did you pass my house?</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span>   I had forgot the way.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> As I have, Henslowe!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span>   Should I have sought her?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> No.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span>   Yet I did see her.</span> -<span class="i13">Making for London, not a week ago,</span> -<span class="i13">Alone on horseback, sudden the long grey road</span> -<span class="i13">Grew friendly, like a stranger in a dream</span> -<span class="i13">Nodding “I know you!” and behold, a love</span> -<span class="i13">Long dead, that smiles and says, “I never died!”</span> -<span class="i13">Then in the turn of the lane I saw your thatch.</span> -<span class="i13">Summer not winter, else was all unchanged.</span> -<span class="i13">Still in the dream I left my horse to graze,</span> -<span class="i13">And let ten years slip from me at your gate.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Is it ten years?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span>   The little garden lay</span> -<span class="i13">Enchanted in the Sunday sloth of noon:</span> -<span class="i13">In th’ aspen tree the wind hung, fast asleep,</span> -<span class="i13">Yet the air danced a foot above the flowers</span> -<span class="i13">And gnats danced in it. I saw a poppy-head</span> -<span class="i13">Spilling great petals, noiseless, one by one:</span> -<span class="i13">I heard the honeysuckle breathe—sweet, sweet:</span> -<span class="i13">The briar was sweeter—a long hedge, pink-starred—</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> I know.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span>   There was a bush of lavender,</span> -<span class="i13">And roses, and a bee in every rose,</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span> -<span class="i13">Drowning the lark that fluted, fields away,</span> -<span class="i13">Up in the marvel blue.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Did you go in?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span>   Why, scarce I dared, for as I latched the gate</span> -<span class="i13">The wind stirred drowsily, and “Hush!” it said,</span> -<span class="i13">And slept again; but all the garden waked</span> -<span class="i13">Upon the sound. I swear, as I play Prologue,</span> -<span class="i13">It watched me, waiting. Down the path I crept,</span> -<span class="i13">Tip-toe, and reached the window, and looked in.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> You saw—?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span>   I saw her; though the place was gloom</span> -<span class="i13">After the sunshine; but I saw her—</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Changed?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span>   I knew her.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Who was with her?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span>   She was alone,</span> -<span class="i13">Beside the hearth unkindled, sitting alone.</span> -<span class="i13">A child’s chair was beside her, but no child.</span> -<span class="i13">Her hands were sleepless, and beneath her breath</span> -<span class="i13">She tuned a thread of song—your song of ‘Willow.’</span> -<span class="i13">But when I tapped upon the window-pane,</span> -<span class="i13">Oh, how she turned, and how leaped up! Her face</span> -<span class="i13">Glowed white as iron new lifted from the forge:</span> -<span class="i13">Her hair fled out behind her in one flame</span> -<span class="i13">As to the door she ran, with little cries</span> -<span class="i13">Scarce human, tearing at the bolt, the key,</span> -<span class="i13">And flung it crashing back: ran out, wide-armed,</span> -<span class="i13">Calling your name: then—saw me, and stood still,</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span> -<span class="i13">So still you’d think she died there, standing up,</span> -<span class="i13">As a sapling will in frost, so desolate</span> -<span class="i13">She stood, with summer round her, staring—</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Well?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span>   I asked her, did she know me? Yes, she said,</span> -<span class="i13">And would I rest and eat? So much she said</span> -<span class="i13">To the lawn behind me—oh, to the hollyhock</span> -<span class="i13">Stiff at my elbow—to a something—nothing—</span> -<span class="i13">But not to me. I could not eat her food.</span> -<span class="i13">I told her so. She nodded. Oh, she knows</span> -<span class="i13">How thoughts run in a man. No fool, no fool!</span> -<span class="i13">I spoke of you. She listened.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Questioned you?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span>   Never a question.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> She said nothing?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span>   Nothing.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Not like her.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span>   But her eyes spoke, as I came</span> -<span class="i13">By way of London, Juliet, ‘The Rose,’</span> -<span class="i13">And the Queen’s great favour (“And why not?” they said)</span> -<span class="i13">Again to silence; so, as I turned to go</span> -<span class="i13">I asked her—“Any greeting?” Then she said,</span> -<span class="i13">Lifting her chin as if she sped her words</span> -<span class="i13">Far, far, like pigeons flung upon the air,</span> -<span class="i13">And soft her voice as bird-wings—then she said,</span> -<span class="i13">“Tell him the woods are green at Shottery,</span> -<span class="i13">Fuller of flowers than any wood in the world.”</span> -<span class="i13">“What else?” said I. She said—“The wind still blows</span> -<span class="i13">Fresh between park and river. Tell him that!”</span> -<span class="i13">Said I—“No message, letter?” Then she said,</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span> -<span class="i13">Twisting her hands—“Tell him the days are long.</span> -<span class="i13">Tell him—” and suddenly ceased. Then, with good-bye</span> -<span class="i13">Pleasantly spoken, and another look</span> -<span class="i13">At some wraith standing by me, not at me,</span> -<span class="i13">Went back into the house and shut the door.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Ay, shut the door, Henslowe; for had she been this she</span> -<span class="i13">Ten years ago and I this other I—</span> -<span class="i13">Well, I have friends to love! Heard Marlowe’s news?</span> -<span class="i13">He’s three-part through Leander! Oh, this Marlowe!</span> -<span class="i13">I mine for coal but he digs diamonds.</span> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span>   Yet fill your scuttle lest the -world grow chill! Is the new play done?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> No.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span>   Much written?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Not a line.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span>   Are you mad? We’re contracted. -What shall I say to the Queen?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> What you please.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span>   Are you well?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Well enough.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span>   Ill enough, I think!</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Write your own plays—bid Marlowe, any man</span> -<span class="i13">That writes as nettles grow or rain comes down!</span> -<span class="i13">I am not born to it. I write not so.</span> -<span class="i13">Romeo and Juliet—I am dead of them!</span> -<span class="i13">The pay’s too small, good clappers! These ghosts need blood</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span> -<span class="i13">To make ’em plump and lively and they know it,</span> -<span class="i13">And seek their altar. Threads and floating wisps</span> -<span class="i13">Of being, how they fasten like a cloud</span> -<span class="i13">Of gnats upon me, not to be shoo’d off</span> -<span class="i13">Unsatisfied—and they drink deep, drink deep;</span> -<span class="i13">For like a pelican these motes I feed,</span> -<span class="i13">And with old griefs’ remembrance and old joys’</span> -<span class="i13">Sharper remembrance daily scourge myself,</span> -<span class="i13">And still they crowd to suck my scars and live.</span> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span>   Now, now, now—do -I ask another ‘Juliet’ of you? God forbid! A fine play, your -‘Juliet,’ but—</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Now come the “buts.”</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span>   Man, we must live! Can -we fill the theatre on love and longing, and high words? Ay, when -Marlowe does it to the sound of trumpets. But you—you’re not -Marlowe. You know too much. Your gods are too much men and women. -Who’ll pay sixpence for a heart-ache? and in advance too! Give us -but two more ‘Romeo and Juliet’'s and you may be a great poet, but -we close down. Another tragedy? No, no, no, we don’t ask that of -you! We want light stuff, easy stuff. Oh, who knows as well as you -what’s wanted? It’s a court play, my man! The French Embassy’s to be -there and the two Counts from Italy, and always Essex and his gang, -and you know <i>their</i> fancy. Get down to it now, there’s a good lad! -Oh, you can do it in your sleep! Lovers and lasses, and quarrels and -kisses, like the two halves of a sandwich! But court lovers, you -know, that talk verse—and between them a green cress of country -folk and country song, daffodils and valentines, and brown bowls of -ale—season all with a pepper of wit—and there’s your -sandwich, there’s your play, as the Queen likes it, as we all like it!</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span>  Ay, as you like it! There’s your title pat!</span> -<span class="i15">But I’ll not serve you. I’m to live, not write.</span> -<span class="i15">Tell that to the Queen!</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span> -<span class="i18"><i>A boy enters whistling and stops as he sees</i> <span class="smcap">Shakespeare</span>.</span> -<span class="i25">Well, Hugh, what answer?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Boy.</span> <span class="ws4"> None, sir!</span></span> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> What? No answer?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span>   See here, Will! If you do not write me this play -you have thrice promised, I’ll to the Queen—sick or mad I’ll to the -Queen this very day for your physic—and so I warn you.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Shakespeare</span> [<i>to the boy</i>]. Did you see—?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Boy.</span> <span class="ws4"> The maid, sir!</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span>   I’ll not see ‘The Rose’ in ruins for a mad—</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Shakespeare</span> [<i>to the boy</i>]. But what did I bid you?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Boy.</span> <span class="ws4"> Wait -on the doorstep till Mistress Fitton came out, though I waited all -night. But indeed, sir, she’s gone; for I saw her, though she did not -see me.</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span>   Oh, the Fitton! Now I see light through the wood!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> What’s that you say?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span>   I say that the Queen shall know where the blame lies.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> You lie. <i>I</i> heard you. <i>I</i> saw you -twist your lips round a white name.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span>   Will! Will! Will!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Did you not?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span>   Why, Will, you have friends, though you fray ’em to -the parting of endurance.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> What’s this?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span>   I say you have friends that see what they see, -and are sorry.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Yes, I am blessed in one man and woman who do -not use me as a beast to be milked dry. I have Marlowe and—</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span>   Marlowe? And I said, God forgive me, that you -knew men and women! Marlowe!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> You speak of my friend. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span>   Ay, Jonathan—of -David, the singer, of him that took Bathsheba, all men know how. -[<span class="smcap">Shakespeare</span> <i>makes a threatening -movement.</i>] No, no, Will! I am too old a man to give and take with -you—too old a man and too old a friend.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> So you’re to lie and I’m -to listen because you’re an old man!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span>   Lie? Ask any in the -town. I’m but a day returned and already I’ve heard the talk. Why, -man, they make songs of it in the street!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> It? It? It?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span>   Boy?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Boy.</span> <span class="ws4"> Here, sir?</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span>   What was that song you whistled as you -came up the stairs?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Boy.</span> <span class="ws4"> ‘Weathercock,’ sir?</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span>   That’s it!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Boy.</span> <span class="ws4"> Lord, sir, I know but the one verse I heard -a drayman sing.</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span>   How does it go?</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Boy.</span> <span class="ws4"> It goes— [<i>singing.</i>]</span></span> -<span class="i20">Two birds settle on a weathercock—</span> -<span class="i21">How’s the wind to-day—O?</span> -<span class="i19">One shall nest and one shall knock—</span> -<span class="i21">How’s the wind to-day—O?</span> -<span class="i25">Turn about and turn about,</span> -<span class="i25">Kit pops in as Will pops out!</span> -<span class="i19">Winds that whistle round the weathercock,</span> -<span class="i21">Who’s her love to-day—O?</span> -<span class="i0">It’s a good tune, sir!</span> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span>   Eh, Will? A good tune! A rousing tune!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Shakespeare</span> [<i>softly</i>]. “For this prize, if I loved her, -I would pay all I had! I do what I choose though it damn me!”</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Boy.</span> <span class="ws4"> May I go, sir? -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span></span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Go, go!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Boy.</span> <span class="ws4"> And my -pay, sir? Indeed I’d have stopped the lady if I could. But she made -as if she were not herself, and rode out of the yard. But I knew her, -for all her riding-coat and breeches.</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span>   What’s all this?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Shakespeare</span> [<i>to the boy</i>]. You’re dreaming—</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Boy.</span> <span class="ws4"> No, sir, -there was your ring on her finger—</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Be still! Take this and -forget your dreams! [<i>He gives him money.</i>] Henslowe, farewell! If -you’ve lied to me I’ll pay you for it, and if you’ve spoken truth to -me I’ll pay you for it no less.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span>   Pay? I want no pay. I -want the play that the Queen ordered, and will have in the end, mark -that! You have not yet served the Queen.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Boy! Hugh!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Boy.</span> <span class="ws4"> Sir?</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Which way did she ride?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Boy.</span> <span class="ws4"> Am I asleep or awake, sir?</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Which way did she ride?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Boy.</span> <span class="ws4"> Across the bridge, -sir, as I dreamt it, along the Deptford road.</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Marlowe! The Deptford road! The Deptford road! -[<i>He rushes out.</i>]</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Boy</span> [<i>showing his money</i>]. - Dreaming pays, sir! It’s gold.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span>   Boy, boy! Never trust -a man! Never kiss a woman! Work all day and sleep all night! Love -yourself and never ask God for the moon! So you may live to be old. -This business grows beyond me. I’ll to the Queen.</p> - -<p class="center"><i>He trots out, shaking his head. The boy skips after him, -whistling his tune.</i></p> - -<p class="center space-above1">THE CURTAIN FALLS. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span></p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<a name="ACT_III_2" id="ACT_III_2"></a> -<hr class="chap" /> -<p class="f150"><b>ACT III</b>.</p> -<h3><span class="smcap">Scene II.</span></h3> -</div> - -<p class="blockquot_intro"> -<i>A private room at an inn late at night. Through the door in -the right wall is seen the outer public room, with men sitting -drinking. There is a window at the back, set so low in the wall -that, above the window-sill, the heads of summer flowers glisten in -the moonlight. On the left wall is the hearth and between it and -the window a low bed. In the centre is a table with candle, glasses -and mugs, and two or three men sitting round it drinking</i>. <span -class="smcap">Marlowe</span> <i>stands with his back to the window, one -foot on a chair, shouting out a song as the curtain rises.</i></p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Marlowe</span> [<i>singing</i>].</span> -<span class="i17">If Luck and I should meet</span> -<span class="i20">I’ll catch her to me crying,</span> -<span class="i17">‘To trip with you were sweet,</span> -<span class="i20">Have done with your denying!’</span> -<span class="i26">Hey, lass! Ho, lass!</span> -<span class="i26">Heel and toe, lass!</span> -<span class="i20">Who’ll have a dance with me?</span> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">All Together.</span>   <span class="ws4"> Hey, Luck! Ho, Luck!</span></span> -<span class="i25">Ne’er say no, Luck!</span> -<span class="i20">I’ll have a dance with thee!</span> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">A Man</span> [<i>hammering the table</i>].  Again! Again!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Landlord</span> [<i>at the door</i>]. Sir, sir, there’s without -a young gentleman hot with riding—</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Marlowe.</span> Does the hot young gentleman give no name? -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Landlord.</span> Why yes, sir, Archer, Francis Archer! -He said you would know him.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Marlowe.</span> I knew an Archer, but he died in Flanders.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Landlord.</span> He may well come from Flanders, sir, for he’s muddy.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Marlowe.</span> Are Flanders’ graves so -shallow? Tell him if he’s alive I don’t know him, and if he’s dead I -won’t know him, and so either way let him go where he belongs.</p> - -<p> <span class="ws3"> <i>The</i> <span class="smcap">Landlord</span> <i>goes out.</i></span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">The Man.</span> What, Kit! send him to hell with a dry throat?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Marlowe.</span> And all impostors with him!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">The Man.</span> But what if it were a -true ghost? Have a heart! You’ll be one yourself some day, and watch -old friends run away from you when you come to haunt them in pure -good fellowship.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Landlord</span> [<i>at the door</i>]. Sir, -he says indeed he knows you. His business is private.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Marlowe.</span> Well, let him come in. No, -friends, sit still! If he’s the death he pretends we’ll face him -together as the song teaches.</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i5">[<i>Singing.</i>]  When Death at last arrives,</span> -<span class="i18">I’ll greet him with a chuckle,</span> -<span class="i17">I’ll ask him how he thrives</span> -<span class="i21">And press his bony knuckle,</span> -<span class="i25">With—Ho, boy! Hey, boy!</span> -<span class="i25">Come this way, boy!</span> -<span class="i21">Who’ll have a drink with me?</span> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Mary’s Voice</span> [<i>on the stairs</i>].</span> -<span class="i25">Hey, Sir! Ho, Sir!</span> -<span class="i25">No, no, no, Sir!</span> -<span class="i21">Why should he drink with thee?</span> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">All Together.</span>  <span class="ws3_5">Hey, Death! Ho, Death!</span></span> -<span class="i23">Let me go, Death!</span> -<span class="i21">I’ll never drink with thee!</span> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Marlowe.</span> What voice is that? -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span></p> - -<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Mary</span> <i>stands in the -doorway. She is dressed as a boy, with cloak, riding boots, and -slouch cap.</i></p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Mary</span> [<i>singing</i>]. If Love should pass me by,</span> -<span class="i17">I’ll follow till I find him,</span> -<span class="i14">And when I hear him sigh,</span> -<span class="i17">I’ll tear the veils that blind him.</span> -<span class="i22">Up, man! Dance, man!</span> -<span class="i22">Take your chance, man!</span> -<span class="i17">Who’ll get a kiss from me?</span> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">All Together.</span> <span class="ws3_5">Hey, Love! Ho, Love!</span></span> -<span class="i21">None shall know, Love!</span> -<span class="i17">Keep but a kiss for me! <span class="ws3">[<i>They clap.</i>]</span></span> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">The Man</span> [<i>to</i> <span class="smcap">Marlowe</span>]. Ghost of a nightingale! -D’you know him?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Marlowe.</span> I think I do. [<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Mary</span>, <i>aside</i>] -What April freak is this?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">The Man</span> [<i>with a glass</i>]. Spirits to spirit, young sir! -Have a drink!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mary.</span>    I should choke, sir! We drink nectar in my country.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">The Man.</span> Where’s that, ghost?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mary.</span>    Oh, somewhere on the soft side of heaven where the -poppies grow.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">The Man.</span> He swore you were dead and buried.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mary.</span>    And so I was. But -there’s a witch in London so sighs for him and so cries for him, that -in the end she whistled me out of my gravity and sent me here to -fetch him home to her.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">The Man.</span> Her name, transparency, -her name?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mary.</span>    Why, sir, I rode in -such haste that my memory could not keep up with me. It’ll not be -here this half hour.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Marlowe.</span> Landlord, pour ale for a -dozen, and these friends will drink to her, name or no name—in -the next room. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">The Man.</span> Kit, you’re a man of tact! I’m a man of tact. -We’re all men of tact!</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i17">Ho, boys! Hey, boys!</span> -<span class="i17">Come this way, boys!</span> -<span class="i13">Who’ll have a drink with me?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i17"><i>The door closes on them.</i></span> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mary.</span>    Well, did you ever -see a better boy? My hair was the only trouble.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Marlowe.</span> Madcap! What does this mean?</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Mary.</span>    What I said! [<i>singing</i>].</span> -<span class="i21">Moth, where are you flown?</span> -<span class="i23">To burn in a flame!</span> -<span class="i21">Moth, I lie alone—</span> -<span class="i0">You’ve not been near me these four days.</span> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Marlowe.</span> Uneasy days—I could not.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mary.</span>    Are you burned, moth? Are the poor wings a-frizzle?</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Marlowe.</span>  Not mine, dear candle, but a king of moths,</span> -<span class="i12">But a great hawk-moth, velvet as the night</span> -<span class="i12">He beats with twilight wings, he, he is singed,</span> -<span class="i12">Fallen to earth and pitiful.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> <span class="ws4"> Oh, Shakespeare!</span></span> -<span class="i12">My dear, I’ve run away because I hate</span> -<span class="i12">The smell of burning.</span> -</div></div> - -<p>He was to come to me to-night to tell me his tragedies and his -comedies and—oh, I yawn! And I played her so well too at the first—</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Marlowe.</span> Who?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mary.</span>    The cool nymph under -Tiber stairs—what’s her name?—Egeria. Am I your Egeria, -Marlowe?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Marlowe.</span> Something less slippery.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mary.</span>    Oh, she was fun to -play—first to please the Queen and<span class="pagenum"><a -name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span> then to please myself. -For I was caught, you know. It’s something to be hung among the -stars, something to say—“I was his Juliet!”</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Marlowe.</span> What, you—you Comedy-Kate?</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Mary.</span>    Why, I’m a woman! that is—fifty women!</span> -<span class="i10">While he played Romeo to my Juliet</span> -<span class="i10">I could be anything he chose. O Kit!</span> -<span class="i10">I sucked his great soul out. You never lit the blaze</span> -<span class="i10">I was for half an hour: then—out I went!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Marlowe.</span> He stoops o’er the embers yet.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Mary.</span>    But ashes fanned</span> -<span class="i10">Fly from their centre, lighter than a kiss,</span> -<span class="i10">And settle—where they please! [<i>She kisses him.</i>]</span> -<span class="i0">D’you love me?</span> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Marlowe.</span> More than I wish.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mary.</span>    Would you be cured?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Marlowe.</span> Not possible.</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Mary</span> [<i>singing</i>].  Go to church, sweetheart,</span> -<span class="i20">A flower in your coat!</span> -<span class="i18">Your wedding bells shall prove</span> -<span class="i11">The death of love! The death of love!</span> -<span class="i19">Ding-dong! Ding-dong!</span> -<span class="i19">The death of love!</span> -<span class="i0">Or so Will says.</span> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Marlowe.</span> He should know.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mary.</span>    What’s that?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Marlowe.</span> Nothing.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mary.</span>    He’s married?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Marlowe.</span> I do not tell you so.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mary.</span>    Married! He shall -pay me. Married! I guessed it—but he shall pay me. A country girl? -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Marlowe.</span> If you must know! He has not seen her these ten -years. She sent for him the night of ‘Juliet.’</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Mary.</span>    Why now all’s plain.</span> -<span class="i11">So she’s the canker that hath drooped our rose!</span> -<span class="i11">If I had loved him—I do not love him, Marlowe—</span> -<span class="i11">This would have fanned a flame. Well, we’re all cheats!</span> -<span class="i11">But now I cheat with better conscience. Married!</span> -<span class="i11">Lord, I could laugh! He must not know I know it.</span> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Marlowe.</span> I shan’t boast I told you. O -Mary, when I first came to you, it was he sent me. He came like a -child and asked me to see you, to say what good of him I could,</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i11">Because I was his friend. And now, see, see,</span> -<span class="i11">How I have friended him!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Mary.</span>    I love you for it.</span> -<span class="i11">He shall not know. Why talk of him? Forget him!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Marlowe.</span> Can you?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Mary.</span>    Why, that I cannot makes me mad—</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Marlowe.</span>  Forget him?</span> -<span class="i11">As soon forget myself! I am his courage,</span> -<span class="i11">His worldly wisdom—Mary, I think I am</span> -<span class="i11">The youth he lost in Stratford. Yet we’re one age,</span> -<span class="i11">And now we write one play. If I died of a sudden,</span> -<span class="i11">It seems he’d breathe me as I left my body,</span> -<span class="i11">And I should live in him as sunshine lies</span> -<span class="i11">Forgotten in a forest, and be found</span> -<span class="i11">In slants and pools and patterns, golden still</span> -<span class="i11">In all he writes.</span> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span> -<span class="smcap">Mary.</span>    O dull Kit! have I adventured here to hear you talk -of dying?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Marlowe.</span> You borrowed Archer’s name.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mary.</span>    I wanted one that -would startle you out to me, and you told me the tale of him once, -how young he died.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Marlowe.</span> And how unwilling! You’ve set -him running in my head like a spider in a skull,</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i11">Spinning across the hollows of mine eyes</span> -<span class="i11">A web of dusty thought. Sweet, brush him off!</span> -<span class="i11">Death’s a vile dreg in this intoxicant,</span> -<span class="i11">This liquor of the gods, this seven-hued life.</span> -<span class="i11">Sometimes I pinch myself, say—“Can you die?</span> -<span class="i11">Is it possible? Will you be winter-nipped</span> -<span class="i11">One day like other flies?” I’m glad you came.</span> -<span class="i11">Stay with me, stay, till the last minute of life!</span> -<span class="i11">Let the court go, the world go, stay with me!</span> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Mary</span> [<i>her arms round him</i>].</span> -<span class="i11">So—quiet till the dawn comes, quiet! Hark!</span> -<span class="i11">Who called? Did you hear it?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Marlowe.</span> Birds in the ivy.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Mary.</span>    No.</span> -<span class="i11">Twice in the road I stopped and turned about</span> -<span class="i11">Because I heard my name called. There was nothing;</span> -<span class="i11">Yet I had heard it—Mary—Mary—Mary!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Marlowe.</span> You heard your own heart pound from riding.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Mary.   </span> Again!</span> -<span class="i11">Open the window!   [<span class="smcap">Marlowe</span> <i>rises and goes to the window.</i>]</span> -<span class="i23">Do you see anything?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Marlowe.</span> All’s sinister. The moon fled out of the sky</span> -<span class="i11">Long since, and the black trees of midnight quake.</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Mary.</span>    And the wind! What a wind! It tugs at the window-frame</span> -<span class="i11">Like jealousy, mad to break in and part us.</span> -<span class="i11">Could you be jealous?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Marlowe.</span> If I were a fool</span> -<span class="i11">I’d let you guess it.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Mary.</span>    Wise, you’re wise, but—jealous?</span> -<span class="i11">Too many men in the world! I’d lift no finger</span> -<span class="i11">To beckon back the fool that tired of me,</span> -<span class="i11">Would you? But he, he glooms and says no word,</span> -<span class="i11">But follows with his eyes whene’er I stir.</span> -<span class="i11">I hate those asking eyes. Look thus at me</span> -<span class="i11">But once and—ended, Marlowe! I’ll not give</span> -<span class="i11">But when I choose. [<i>He sits beside her.</i>]</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Marlowe.</span> But when <i>I</i> choose.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i20"><i>Behind them the blur of the window is darkened.</i></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Mary</span> [<i>in his arms</i>].    Why yes!</span> -<span class="i11">Had he your key-word—! Sometimes I like him yet,</span> -<span class="i11">When anger comes in a white lightning flash,</span> -<span class="i11">Then he’s the man of men still, then with shut eyes</span> -<span class="i11">I think him you and shiver and I like him,</span> -<span class="i11">Held roughly in his arms, thinking of you.</span> -<span class="i11">The Warwick burr is like an afterwards</span> -<span class="i11">Of thunder when he’s angry, in his speech.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Marlowe.</span> What does he say?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Mary.</span>    He says he is not jealous!</span> -<span class="i11">He would not wrong me so, nor wrong himself.</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span> -<span class="i11">Then the sky lightens and we kiss—or kiss not!</span> -<span class="i11">Who cares?</span> -<span class="i11">Then in come you. It’s well he thinks you his</span> -<span class="i11">In friendship—</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Marlowe.</span> So I was.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i15"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare</span> <i>swings himself noiselessly over the sill.</i></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Mary.</span>    And so you are,</span> -<span class="i11">And have all things in common as friends should.</span> -<span class="i11">Eh, friend?</span> -<span class="i11">Oh, stir not! Frowning? If you were a fool—</span> -<span class="i11">(How did it run?) you’d let me guess you—jealous!</span> -<span class="i11">But you’re no fool.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Marlowe.</span> Let’s have no more! You know</span> -<span class="i11">I loved—I love the man.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Mary.</span>    Why, so do I.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Marlowe.</span> You shall not!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Mary.</span>    Then I will not. Not to-night.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare</span> [<i>standing by the window</i>].</span> -<span class="i13">Why not to-night, my lover and my friend?</span> -<span class="i16"><i>He comes down into the room as they start up.</i></span> -<span class="i13">Will you not give me wine and welcome me?</span> -<span class="i13">Sit down, sit down—we three have much to say!</span> -<span class="i13">But tell me first, what does that hand of yours</span> -<span class="i13">Upon her neck, as there were custom in it?</span> -<span class="i13">Part! Part, I say! Part! lest I couple you</span> -<span class="i13">Once and for all!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Mary.</span>      He’s armed!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Marlowe.</span>   He shall not touch you!</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> You, Marlowe! You!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Marlowe.</span>   Stand out of her way!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> You! You!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Marlowe.</span>    Why then—</span> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Marlowe</span> <i>darts at</i> <span class="smcap">Shakespeare</span> <i>and is thrown -off. He staggers against the table, knocking over the candle. As -he strikes the second time his arm is knocked up, striking his own -forehead. He falls across the bed. There is an instant’s pause, -then</i> <span class="smcap">Shakespeare</span> <i>rushes to him, slipping an arm under his -shoulder.</i></p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> <span class="ws3"> Dead? Is he dead? Oh, what an end!</span></span> -<span class="i13">I never saw a dead man. Will—to me!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Get help!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> <span class="ws3"> I dare not.</span></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Marlowe.</span>   Oh!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> What is it?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Marlowe.</span>   Oh!</span> -<span class="i13">My life, my lovely life, and cast away</span> -<span class="i13">Untasted, wasted—</span> -<span class="i13">Death, let me go! [<i>He dies.</i>]</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> <span class="ws3"> What now? Rouse up! Delay</span></span> -<span class="i13">Is dangerous. Wake! Wake! What shall we do?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> O trumpet of the angels lent to a boy,</span> -<span class="i13">Could I not spare you for the golden blast,</span> -<span class="i13">For the great sound’s sake? What have I done?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne’s Voice.</span> Ah! Done</span> -<span class="i13">The thing you would not do—</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> <span class="ws3"> Rouse! Rouse yourself!</span></span> -<span class="i13">What now?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne’s Voice.</span> Remember—</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Hark! A sigh!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> <span class="ws3"> The wind</span></span> -<span class="i13">Keening the night—</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> A sound of weeping—</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> <span class="ws3"> Rain.</span></span> -<span class="i13">Is this a time for visions? White-cheeked day</span> -<span class="i13">Stares through the pane. Each minute is an eye</span> -<span class="i13">Opening upon us. What shall we do now?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Weep, clamorous harlot! We have given him death,</span> -<span class="i13">And shall we dock his rights of death, his peace</span> -<span class="i13">Upon his bed, his sun of hair smoothed, hands</span> -<span class="i13">Crossed decently by me, his friend? Close you</span> -<span class="i13">His eyes with kisses, lest I kill you too!</span> -<span class="i13">Give him his due, I say! his woman’s tears!</span> -<span class="i13">You were his woman—oh, deny it not!</span> -<span class="i13">You were his woman. Pay him what you owe!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> <span class="ws3"> What? Do you glove my clean hand with your stain,</span></span> -<span class="i13">Red fingers? Soft! This is your kill, not mine!</span> -<span class="i13">My free soul is not sticky with your sins.</span> -<span class="i13"><i>You</i> pinch your lips? <i>You</i> singe me with your tongue?</span> -<span class="i13">Your country lilac that you left for me</span> -<span class="i13">Taught you strange names for a woman. Harlot? I?</span> -<span class="i13">Sweep your own stable, trickster, married man!</span> -<span class="i13">Lie, cheat, break faith, until you end a man</span> -<span class="i13">That bettered you as roses better weeds—</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> That is well known.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Mary.</span><span class="ws3"> —and now you’ll stare and weep</span></span> -<span class="i13">Until the watch comes and the Queen hears all.</span> -<span class="i13">Then—ends all!</span> -<span class="i13">And I caught with you! She’s a devil of ice</span> -<span class="i13">Since Leicester died. No man or woman stirs her;</span> -<span class="i13">But she must have her toys! London’s her doll’s house,</span> -<span class="i13">Its marts, its theatres. This death was half her pride,</span> -<span class="i13">And you the other. Was I not set to mould you?</span> -<span class="i13">What will she do to me now her doll’s broken,</span> -<span class="i13">Broken in my hand? I fear her, oh, I fear her,</span> -<span class="i13">The green eyes of her justice and her smile.</span> -<span class="i13">Will, if you love me—you who have had my lips,</span> -<span class="i13">And more, and more, and shall have all again,</span> -<span class="i13">All that you choose, and gladly given—awake!</span> -<span class="i13">Fly while there’s time to save yourself and me!</span> -<span class="i13">Look not on him—he’s blind—he cannot speak,</span> -<span class="i13">Nor stretch a hand to stay you—he’s cold nothing!</span> -<span class="i13">But we, we live! Here on my throat, here, here,</span> -<span class="i13">(Give me your fingers!) feel the hot pulse live!</span> -<span class="i13">Yet I’ll die sooner than be pent. You know me!</span> -<span class="i13">Must I lie still for ever at his side</span> -<span class="i13">Because you will not rouse yourself?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Who speaks?</span> -<span class="i13">O vanished dew, O summer sweetness gone,</span> -<span class="i13">O perfume staled in a night, that yesterday</span> -<span class="i13">Was fresh as morning roses—do you live?</span> -<span class="i13">Are you still Mary? O my shining lamp</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span> -<span class="i13">Of love put out, how dark the world has grown!</span> -<span class="i13">Did you want him so? Did it come on you suddenly,</span> -<span class="i13">And shake you from your north—</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> <span class="ws3"> The dawn! the dawn!</span></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Or did you never love me—where do you point?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> <span class="ws3"> To save ourselves comes first!</span></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> To answer me!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> <span class="ws3"> Fool! Fool! Will you hang? Let go, fool!</span></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Answer me!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> <span class="ws3"> Will, for the love of living—</span></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Answer me!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> <span class="ws3"> I never loved you. Are you answered?</span></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne’s Voice.</span> Oh—</span> -<span class="i13">For a month—in the spring—</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Is it a month ago?</span> -<span class="i13">The trees are not yet metalled with the dust</span> -<span class="i13">Of summer, that were greening when we two—</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> <span class="ws3"> Oh, peace!</span></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> —in a night of spring—</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> <span class="ws3"> Ah, was it love?</span></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Remember, Beauty, when you came to me,</span> -<span class="i13">As came the beggar to Cophetua,</span> -<span class="i13">As queens came conquered to the Macedon,</span> -<span class="i13">As Cressid came by night to Diomed,</span> -<span class="i13">As night comes queenly to the bed of day</span> -<span class="i13">Enmantled in her hair, so you to me,</span> -<span class="i13">Juliet, and all your night of hair was mine</span> -<span class="i13">To curtain me and you—</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Mary.</span>      Forgotten, forgotten—</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> That night you loved me—</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne’s Voice.</span> I was drunk with dreams</span> -<span class="i13">That night.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> That night of victory you loved me!</span> -<span class="i13">I have my witnesses. O watching stars—</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> <span class="ws3"> The eyes, the eyes, the arch of eyes!</span></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> —speak for me!</span> -<span class="i13">Once was a taper that outshone you all,</span> -<span class="i13">It burned so bright. Oh, how you winked and pried!</span> -<span class="i13">I saw you through the tatters of the dark</span> -<span class="i13">And mocked you in my hour. Yet speak for me,</span> -<span class="i13">Eternal lights, for now my candle’s blown</span> -<span class="i13">Past envy! But she loved me then!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> <span class="ws3"> I know not.</span></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Though god and devil deny—you loved me then!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> <span class="ws3"> But was it love?</span></span> -<span class="i13">I could have loved if you had taught me loving.</span> -<span class="i13">Something I sought and found not; so I turned</span> -<span class="i13">From searching. I have clean forgotten now</span> -<span class="i13">That ever I sought—and so live merrily—</span> -<span class="i13">And so will live! Why wreck myself for you?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> O heart’s desire, and eyes’, desire of hands,</span> -<span class="i13">Self of myself, have pity!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> <span class="ws3"> What had you?</span></span> -<span class="i13">If I had borne you children (but I was wise,</span> -<span class="i13">Knowing my man, as men have taught me men)</span> -<span class="i13">What name had you to give them, to give me?</span> -<span class="i13">No, no, I wrong you, for you christened me</span> -<span class="i13">But now, first having slain him who had struck</span> -<span class="i13">The rankness from your mouth.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> What I have done—</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> <span class="ws3"> Lied, lied to me!</span></span> -<span class="i13">—and if I did—</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne’s Voice.</span> To hold you!</span> -<span class="i13">I couldn’t lose you. I was mad with pain.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> <span class="ws3"> Tricked me—</span></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> To hold—listen to me—to hold you!</span> -<span class="i13">Lest I should lose you. I was mad with pain.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> <span class="ws3"> Are you so womanish that a breath of pain—</span></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> A breath! God, listen! A breath, a summer breath!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Mary.</span><span class="ws3"> —could blow away your honour?</span></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Once it was mine.</span> -<span class="i13">I laid it up with you. Where is it now?</span> -<span class="i13">I’m stripped of honour like an oak in June</span> -<span class="i13">Whose leaves a curse of caterpillars eat,</span> -<span class="i13">That stands a mockery to flowers and men,</span> -<span class="i13">With naked arms praying the lightning down.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne’s Voice.</span> At Shottery the woods are green—</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> My God!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne’s Voice.</span> And full of flowers—</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Let be, let be! My honour?</span> -<span class="i13">I bought it with a woman—not like you,</span> -<span class="i13">A faithless-faithful woman—not like you;</span> -<span class="i13">But weak as I’m weak, loving as I love,</span> -<span class="i13">God help her! not like you—no black-eyed Spain</span> -<span class="i13">Whose cheeks hang out their red to match the red</span> -<span class="i13">When bull meets man—no luxury that wears</span> -<span class="i13">A lover like new clothes, and all the while</span> -<span class="i13">Eyes other women’s fashions; but a woman</span> -<span class="i13">That should have loved me less, poor fool, and less—</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> <span class="ws3"> You should have loved me less, my fool, and less!</span></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Yet from this folly all the music springs</span> -<span class="i13">That is in the world, and all my hopes that ranged</span> -<span class="i13">Lark-high in heaven! Yet murder comes of it.</span> -<span class="i13">Look where he lies! He was true friend to me,</span> -<span class="i13">And I to him, until you came, you came.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> <span class="ws3"> I came and I can go.</span></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Mary!  [<i>There is a clatter of hoofs.</i>]</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> <span class="ws3"> D’you hear?</span></span> -<span class="i13">Horses! What do they seek? You, Marlowe, me?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> This they call conscience.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> <span class="ws3"> Take your hand away!</span></span> -<span class="i13">I’ll slip through yet; nor shall you follow me;</span> -<span class="i13">You had your chance. Listen! A boy was here;</span> -<span class="i13">One Francis Archer. Say it after me—</span> -<span class="i13">No woman, but a boy, a stranger to you!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Strange to me, Mary.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i16"><i>There is a sound of voices in the yard.</i></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> <span class="ws3"> If you hold me now</span></span> -<span class="i13">I’ll scream and swear you stabbed him as he slept,</span> -<span class="i13">They’re drinking still.  [<i>She opens the door.</i>]</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Voices</span> [<i>in the outer room</i>].</span> -<span class="i23">Hey, boy! Ho, boy!</span> -<span class="i23">Heel and toe, boy!</span> -<span class="i20">Who’ll have a drink with me?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> <span class="ws3"> If you should get away.</span></span> -<span class="i13">Send me no message, come not near me! Now!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i15"><i>She slips into the room</i>. <span class="smcap">Shakespeare</span> <i>stands -at the half open door watching.</i></span> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">A Man.</span> <span class="ws2_5"> Sing another verse! -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span></span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Another.</span>    There’s the boy back. Make him sing it!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> <span class="ws3"> I’m to fetch more wine first.</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">The Man.</span>   Sing another verse!</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Another.</span>    If Love and I should meet,</span> -<span class="i13">I’ll catch her to me—</span> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Another.</span>    Luck, you fool, not love!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Another.</span>    Where’s the difference? If you’re in love -you’re in luck.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Another.</span>    Here, stop the boy!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> <span class="ws3"> Let me pass, gentlemen!</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">The Man.</span>   Sing another verse!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Another.</span>    If Love and I—</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Another.</span>    Shut up now and let the kid sing it!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> <span class="ws3"> Why yes, if you’ll let me pass afterwards, sir, -like love in the song.</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">The Man.</span>   Sing another verse! Sing twenty other verses!</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Mary</span> [<i>singing</i>]. If Love should pass me by,</span> -<span class="i16">I’ll follow till I find him,</span> -<span class="i14">And when I hear him cry,</span> -<span class="i16">I’ll tear the veils that blind him!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">The Man.</span>   Now then, chorus!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">All Together.</span>   Hey, Love! Ho, Love!</span> -<span class="i18">None shall know, Love!</span> -<span class="i14">Keep but a kiss for me!</span> -</div></div> - -<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Mary</span> <i>disappears in the -crowd. The door swings to as</i> <span class="smcap">Shakespeare</span> -<i>turns back into the room</i>.</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Marlowe! Marlowe!</span> -<span class="i13">She is gone, Marlowe, that was a fume of wine</span> -<span class="i13">Between us. Marlowe, Marlowe, speak to me!</span> -<span class="i13">Never a sound. We have seen many a dawn</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span> -<span class="i13">Creep like a house-wife on the drunken night,</span> -<span class="i13">And tumble him from heaven with work-day hand</span> -<span class="i13">And bird-shrill railing; but such a waking up</span> -<span class="i13">As this we never knew. Sorry and cold</span> -<span class="i13">I look on you. Kit, Kit, this mark of the knife</span> -<span class="i13">Is the first blot I ever saw in you,</span> -<span class="i13">The first ill-writing. Kit, for your own sake,</span> -<span class="i13">You should have wronged a stranger, not your friend;</span> -<span class="i13">For like a looking-glass my heart still served you</span> -<span class="i13">To see yourself, and when you struck at me,</span> -<span class="i13">You struck yourself, and broke this mirror too.</span> -<span class="i18"><i>A knock.</i></span> -<span class="i13">Mary? Is it Mary? Lie you quiet, Marlowe!</span> -<span class="i13">We will not let her in.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span>   Within, who’s within there?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Two dead men.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span>   Is it Marlowe?</span> -<span class="i13">Is Shakespeare there?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Come in, come in, come in!</span> -</div></div> - -<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Henslowe</span> <i>comes in hurriedly. He leaves -the door half open behind him.</i></p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Voices</span> [<i>singing</i>].    Ho, boy! Hey, boy!</span> -<span class="i22">Come this way, boy!</span> -<span class="i19">Who’ll have a drink with me?</span> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span>   Why, here’s a -bird of wisdom sitting in the dark! Shut your eyes, man, and use -candles or you’ll scorch out your own sockets! What’s wrong now? -But tell me that as we ride; for the Queen wants you in a hurry, -and what’s more an angry Queen. I’d not be you! Here I’ve hunted -London for you from tavern to lady’s lodging till I ferreted out that -Marlowe was here, and so I followed him for news. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span></p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Here’s news enough. Henslowe, look here!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span>   Who did it?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> We—he and I. There was another in it.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span>   Was it the youngster passed me in the yard,</span> -<span class="i13">Caught at his horse and rode like fear away?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Was’t a pale horse?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span>   I saw not. In the dark</span> -<span class="i13">A voice cried “Hurry!”</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> That was she.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span>   Who? Who?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Death. She has fled and left her catch behind.</span> -<span class="i13">Can you do anything?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span>   For the living scarce—</span> -<span class="i13">You must be got away. Are you known here?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> As men know Cain. All, all is finished, Henslowe!</span> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Landlord</span> [<i>putting his head in at the door</i>]. -Is anything wrong sir?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span>   Wrong? What should be wrong? But we’re in -haste. Call the ostler! We want a second horse.</p> - -<p class="center"><i>He slips his arm through</i> <span class="smcap">Shakespeare’s</span> <i>and tries to lead -him to the door.</i></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Landlord.</span> Is the gentleman ill, sir? He sways.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span>   Your good wine, host.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A Man</span> [<i>over the</i> <span class="smcap">Landlord’s</span> <i>shoulder</i>]. - The best on the Surrey side!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span>   He’ll tell the Queen so in an hour -if you’ll make way.</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Men</span> [<i>crowding into the doorway</i>].  The Queen!</span> -<span class="i0">Did you hear?</span> -<span class="i0">He’s been sent by the Queen!</span> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span>   Keep your people back, landlord! -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">The Man</span> [<i>staggering into the room</i>]. I say, three -cheers for the Queen!</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Another.</span>    The Queen! The Queen! Three cheers for Bess!</span> -<span class="i10">[<i>Singing</i>].  Hey, Bess! Ho, Bess!</span> -<span class="i20">Heel and toe, Bess!</span> -<span class="i0">Ladies and gentlemen, here’s a man on the bed.</span> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span>   Ay! My friend! Let him be!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">The Man.</span>   Is he drunk too?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">The Other.</span>  If I were a judge I’d say “Very drunk”! He’s -spilled his wine on his clothes. What I say is “Waste not, want not!”</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Landlord.</span>  Come now, come away! You hear what the -gentleman says.</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">The Man</span> [<i>throwing him off</i>].</span> -<span class="i22">Hey, Death! Ho, Death!</span> -<span class="i22">Let me go, Death!</span> -<span class="i0">Shall I wake him?</span> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Shakespeare</span> [<i>turning in the doorway</i>]. Ay, wake him, wake -him, old trump of judgment! Wake him if you can,</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i20">And if you cannot let him sleep his sleep</span> -<span class="i20">And envy him that he can sleep so sound!</span> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">The Man.</span> Ay sir, he shall sleep till he wakes. But we, sir, -we’ll sing you off the premises, for the love of Bess.</p> - -<p class="center">Hey, Bess? Ho, Bess!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Another</span> [<i>hammering the table</i>]. Death, not Bess! Death! -Death! Death! Come along chorus!</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Two or Three</span>  [<i>as they lurch out of the room</i>].</span> -<span class="i12">Ho, boy! Hey, boy!</span> -<span class="i12">Come this way, boy!</span> -<span class="i10">Who’ll have a drink with me?</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">All</span> [<i>following</i>].</span> -<span class="i12">Hey, Death! Ho, Death!</span> -<span class="i12">Out you go, Death!</span> -<span class="i10">We’ll never drink with thee!</span> -</div></div> - -<p class="center"><i>The door swings to and quiet settles on the -lightening room. The first ray of sunlight touches the bed. Outside -the birds are beginning to sing.</i></p> - -<p class="center space-above1">THE CURTAIN FALLS.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span></p> -<hr class="chap" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span></p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="ACT_IV">ACT IV.</h2> -</div> - -<p class="blockquot_intro"> <i>A room in the palace, hung with -tapestries. On the right wall is a heavy, studded door: on the left, -a great raised seat on a low platform. On the back wall is a small -curtained door and a large window. A girl in a primrose-coloured -gown stands at it holding back its curtain. Set slantwise in front -of it, nearer the centre of the stage, is a writing table with -scattered papers. At it sits</i> <span class="smcap">Elizabeth</span>, -<i>a secretary beside her. The Queen’s dress is of dull grey brocade -with transparent lawn and jewels of aquamarine; but as the evening -deepens its colour becomes one with the dusk and only her white face -and hands are clearly seen.</i></p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">A Hawker</span> [<i>chanting in the street far away</i>].</span> -<span class="i30">Cress! Buy cress!</span> -<span class="i30">Who’ll buy my cress-es?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i19"><span class="smcap">Elizabeth</span> <i>lays down her pen.</i></span> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Elizabeth.</span> These three are signed. Take them to Burleigh. -This I’ll not grant. Tell him so! [<i>The man bows and goes out.</i>]</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Hawker</span> [<i>nearer</i>].   Cress! Buy cress!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Elizabeth.</span>  There! Put the papers by!</p> - -<p class="center"><i>The girl at the window comes down to the table -and begins to sort them.</i></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Another Hawker.</span>   Strawberries! Ripe strawberries!</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">The Girl.</span>   I wonder, Madam, that you choose this room</span> -<span class="i13">Here on the noisy street.</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Elizabeth.</span>  Child, when you marry</span> -<span class="i13">Who’ll rule your nursery, you or your maids?</span> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Girl.</span>      Why, that I will!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Elizabeth.</span>  Then you must sit in it daily. Where’s Mary Fitton?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Girl.</span>      In waiting, Madam, -and half asleep. She was up early to-day. I saw her from my window by -the little garden door and called to her. She had been out to pick -roses, as you bade her, ere the dew dried on them.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Elizabeth.</span>  As I bade her?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Girl.</span>      Yes, Madam, she said so.</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Hawker</span> [<i>close at hand</i>].  Cress! Buy cress!</span> -<span class="i23">Fit for Queen Bess!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Elizabeth.</span>  Open the window! [<i>The girl opens it.</i>]</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Hawker.</span>   Cress! Buy cress!</span> -<span class="i13">Who’ll buy my cress-es?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Elizabeth.</span>  Fetch me my purse!</span> -</div></div> - -<p><i>The girl goes out by the little door. As she does so</i>, <span -class="smcap">Elizabeth</span> <i>takes her purse from a drawer and -going to the window, throws out a coin.</i></p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Hawker.</span> <span class="ws4">Cress! Buy cress!</span></span> -<span class="i0">Are you there, lady?  [<span class="smcap">Elizabeth</span> <i>throws out another coin.</i>]</span> -<span class="i17">I plucked my riches</span> -<span class="i17">From Deptford ditches,</span> -<span class="i13">I came by a Deptford Inn;</span> -<span class="i17">Where a young man lies,</span> -<span class="i17">With pennies on his eyes—</span> -<span class="i0">Murdered, lady, and none saw who did it!</span> -<span class="i20">Cress! Buy cress!</span> -</div></div> - -<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Elizabeth</span> <i>flings out another coin.</i></p> - -<p>There was a boy that ran away, and Henslowe the Queen’s man, -and a third—</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i26">Cress! Buy cress!</span> -<span class="i26">A supper for Queen Bess!</span> -</div></div> - -<p class="center"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span> -<span class="smcap">Elizabeth</span> <i>lays down the purse on the table as the girl -comes back.</i></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Girl</span> [<i>distressed</i>].   Madam—</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Elizabeth.</span>  It was here. That cress seller has a sweet voice. -Fling her a coin and ask her where she lives!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Girl</span> [<i>going to the window</i>].   Hey, beggar!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Hawker.</span>   Bless you, lady!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Girl.</span>       Where do you come from with your green stuff?</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Hawker.</span>     Marlow, lady, Marlow!</span> -<span class="i20">Down by the river where the cresses grow,</span> -<span class="i20">And buttercups like guineas.</span> -<span class="i30">Cress! Buy cress!</span> -<span class="i30">Who’ll buy my cress-es?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i15"><i>Her voice dies away in the distance.</i></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Girl.</span>      She has come a long way.</span> -<span class="i13">Marlow’s across the river, far from us.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Elizabeth.</span>  Marlowe’s across the river, far from us.</span> -</div></div> - -<p class="center">If any ask to speak with me, let me know it!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Girl.</span>      Why, Madam, Henslowe, the old player, has been waiting -since noon, and Mr. Shakespeare with him.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Elizabeth.</span>  The name’s not written here. Whose duty?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Girl.</span>      Mary Fitton’s.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Elizabeth.</span>  Send Henslowe! And when I ring let Mary Fitton -answer!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Girl.</span>      I’ll tell her, Madam.</p> - -<p><i>She goes out</i>. <span class="smcap">Elizabeth</span> <i>rises and -goes slowly across the room to the dais and seats herself. There is -a pause. Then a page throws open the big door facing the dais and</i> -<span class="smcap">Henslowe</span> <i>enters.</i> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span></p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Elizabeth.</span>  Henslowe, you’re not welcome</span> -<span class="i13">For the news you bring.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span>  Madam, that Marlowe’s dead</span> -<span class="i13">I know because I found him—I am new come from Deptford—</span> -<span class="i13">But how you know I know not.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Elizabeth.</span>  Why, not a keel</span> -<span class="i13">Grounds on the Cornish pebbles, but the jar</span> -<span class="i13">Thrills through all English earth home to my feet.</span> -<span class="i13">No riderless horse snuffs blood and gallops home</span> -<span class="i13">To a girl widowed, but I the sparking hoofs</span> -<span class="i13">Hear pound as her heart pounds, waiting; for my spies</span> -<span class="i13">Are everywhere. Do not my English swifts</span> -<span class="i13">Report to me at dusk, eavesdropping low,</span> -<span class="i13">The number of my English primroses</span> -<span class="i13">In English woods all spring? The gulls on Thames</span> -<span class="i13">Scream past the Tower “Storm in Channel! Storm!”</span> -<span class="i13">And if I hear not, sudden my drinking glass</span> -<span class="i13">Rings out “Send help, lest English sailors drown!”</span> -<span class="i13">The lantern moon swings o’er unvisited towns</span> -<span class="i13">Signalling “Peace!” or a star shoots out of the west</span> -<span class="i13">Across my window, flashing “Danger here!”</span> -<span class="i13">And is it Ireland rising, or a child</span> -<span class="i13">On chalk-pit roof after the blackberries,</span> -<span class="i13">I’m warned, and bid my human servants haste.</span> -<span class="i13">The flat-worn stones, the echoes of the streets</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span> -<span class="i13">At night when drunkards tumble, citizens</span> -<span class="i13">In the half silence and half light trot home,</span> -<span class="i13">Reveal the well, the ill in my own land.</span> -<span class="i13">I am its eyes, its pulse, its finger-tips,</span> -<span class="i13">The wakeful partner of its married soul.</span> -<span class="i13">I know what darkness does, what dawn discovers</span> -<span class="i13">In all the English country. I am the Queen.</span> -<span class="i0">You have done my errand? Shakespeare the player is with you?</span> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span>  He waits without.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Elizabeth.</span>  Then he too was at Deptford last night.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span>  None knows it.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Elizabeth.</span>  That’s well! But was it he, Henslowe—he?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span>  No, no, no! I’ll swear it.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Elizabeth.</span>  But will he swear it?</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span>   He’s dazed, he will say anything—yes—no—</span> -<span class="i13">Just as you prompt him, as if one blow had struck</span> -<span class="i13">His soul and Marlowe’s body. Madam, he’s not his witness!</span> -<span class="i13">Yet, if t’were true, if he has lost us Marlowe,</span> -<span class="i13">Must we lose him? Then has the English stage</span> -<span class="i13">Lost both her hands and cannot feed herself,</span> -<span class="i13">Starves, Madam!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Elizabeth.</span>  You’re honest, Henslowe! Your son’s son one day</span> -<span class="i13">May help a king to thread a needle’s eye.</span> -<span class="i13">But do you think he did it?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span>  No, though he says it,</span> -<span class="i13">For he loved him.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Elizabeth.</span>  Loved him, but a woman better.</span> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span>  There was no woman with them. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Elizabeth.</span>  So I hear; but a boy!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span>  Unknown.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Elizabeth.</span>  Did you see him?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span>  Not his face. He was past me in a flash, -crying “Hurry!”</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Elizabeth.</span>  Well, I’ll see Shakespeare.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span>  Madam—</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Elizabeth.</span>  I thread my own needles, Henslowe, being a woman. -[<span class="smcap">Mary Fitton</span> <i>enters.</i>] Send Mr. Shakespeare to me! -[<i>Then, as</i> <span class="smcap">Mary</span> <i>turns to go</i>—]   Mary!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> <span class="ws3">Madam?</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Elizabeth.</span>  Bid him hurry! -[<span class="smcap">Mary</span> <i>turns to the door.</i>] Mary!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> <span class="ws3">Madam?</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Elizabeth.</span>  What did I tell you but now?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> <span class="ws3">Madam, to bid him hurry.</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Henslowe</span> [<i>recognising the voice</i>]. “Hurry!”</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Elizabeth.</span>  Wait. Daylight, Henslowe? Girl, you’re slow. -You go heavily. Have you not slept? Let Henslowe do your -errand! [<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Henslowe</span>.] Let him wait at hand!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> <span class="ws3">Madam, I can well go.</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Elizabeth.</span>  No hurry now. [<span class="smcap">Henslowe</span> <i>goes out.</i>] -D’you guess why I send for your teller of tales?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> <span class="ws3">No, Madam.</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Elizabeth.</span>  He has told a tale, it seems, -that I’d hear told again.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> <span class="ws3">Told?</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Elizabeth.</span>  Why are you not in black, Mary?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> <span class="ws3">I, Madam?</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Elizabeth.</span>  Marlowe is dead.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> <span class="ws3">I grieve to hear it.</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Elizabeth.</span>  When did you hear?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> <span class="ws3">Why, Madam, now—you tell me!</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Elizabeth.</span>  Then I tell you wrong. He is alive and has told all. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> <span class="ws3">Alive? They lie to you, Madam! What has he told? -Who says it?</span></p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Elizabeth.</span>  You, Mary Fitton! For by your dark-ringed eyes</span> -<span class="i13">Your dreaming service and those blind hands of yours</span> -<span class="i13">Seeking a hold, I think you saw him die,</span> -<span class="i13">Ere you passed Henslowe in the dark, crying “Hurry!”</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> <span class="ws3"> Madam, it was your errand. For this Shakespeare,</span></span> -<span class="i13">This quill you thrust on me to sharpen up,</span> -<span class="i13">Jealous of Marlowe, though he had no cause</span> -<span class="i13">(What! must I live his nun, his stay-at-home?</span> -<span class="i13">Your servant and a lady of the court!),</span> -<span class="i13">Sent me a letter—</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Elizabeth.</span>  Let me read!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> <span class="ws3"> I tore it!</span></span> -<span class="i13">—so inked in threat that I post-haste for Deptford—</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Elizabeth.</span>  Ill judged!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> <span class="ws3"> I know! I followed my first fear.</span></span> -<span class="i13">—rode to warn Marlowe. Shakespeare following,</span> -<span class="i13">Spying upon us, spying upon us, Madam!</span> -<span class="i13">Found us in counsel. Then, with a hail of words</span> -<span class="i13">That Marlowe would not bear, with “stale” and “harlot,”</span> -<span class="i13">He beat me down, till Marlowe flung ’em back;</span> -<span class="i13">Then like two dogs they struggled. Marlowe fell.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Elizabeth.</span>  Struck down?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> <span class="ws3"> Struck down, but blindly, not to kill—</span></span> -<span class="i13">I will not think to kill—and as he fell</span> -<span class="i13">His own knife caught him, here.</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Elizabeth.</span>  What did you then?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> <span class="ws3"> I, Madam?</span></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Elizabeth.</span>  You, Madam? Did you fold your hands</span> -<span class="i13">And watch this business as you’d watch a play,</span> -<span class="i13">And clap them on? Or, as a short month since</span> -<span class="i13">You played a part I think, did you strike in</span> -<span class="i13">And play a part? Why did you call for help?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> <span class="ws3"> I did not, Madam!</span></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Elizabeth.</span>  Why did not Mary Fitton</span> -<span class="i13">Cry help against—- which lover?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> <span class="ws3"> Lover, Madam?</span></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Elizabeth.</span>  There’s tinker, tailor, soldier—the old rhyme—</span> -<span class="i13">There’s Pembroke, Marlowe, Shakespeare—</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> <span class="ws3"> Madam! Madam!</span></span> -<span class="i13">I’ll not bear this!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Elizabeth.</span>  Ay, you have fierce black eyes—</span> -<span class="i13">What will you do then if you will not bear it?</span> -<span class="i13">You have leave to show.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> <span class="ws3"> I say I did cry out</span></span> -<span class="i13">To both that they should cease.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Elizabeth.</span>  So you cried out!</span> -<span class="i13">Bring up your witnesses that heard you cry!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> <span class="ws3"> I did not stand and watch. I ran upon them.</span></span> -<span class="i13">I was flung off and bruised.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Elizabeth.</span>  Show me the bruise!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> <span class="ws3"> High on my arm—</span></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Elizabeth.</span>  Rip up your sleeve and show me!</span> -<span class="i13">You stand, you stare, you’re white. I think you shake.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> <span class="ws3"> Anger not fear, though you were ten times Queen</span></span> -<span class="i13">Of twenty Englands!</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Elizabeth.</span>  Quiet, and quiet, my girl!</span> -<span class="i13">This ill-spent night has left you feverish.</span> -<span class="i13">You are too free for court,</span> -<span class="i13">Too bruised and touzled for my gentlemen.</span> -<span class="i13">You shall go home, I think, to heal this bruise,</span> -<span class="i13">To cleanse your body and soul in country air</span> -<span class="i13">And banished quiet till I send for you.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> <span class="ws3"> Upon what count?</span></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Elizabeth.</span>  On none. But I’ve no time,</span> -<span class="i13">No room for butter-fingers. Here’s a man slain</span> -<span class="i13">Upon your lap that England needed. Go!</span> -<span class="i13">Go, blunted tool! [<i>She touches a bell.</i>]</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> <span class="ws3"> Madam! Madam! You wrong me!</span></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Elizabeth.</span>  I’ve wronged your betters, Mary, Mary Fitton,</span> -<span class="i13">As tide wrongs pebble, or as wind wrongs chaff</span> -<span class="i13">At threshing time.</span> -<span class="i22"><i>A page enters at the great door on the right.</i></span> -<span class="i13">Send Mr. Shakespeare to me!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> <span class="ws3"> This is the justice of the Queen of England!</span></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Elizabeth.</span>  My justice.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> <span class="ws3"> Have I not served you?</span></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Elizabeth.</span>  All things serve me.</span> -<span class="i13">They choose their path. I use them in their path.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> <span class="ws3"> As once you used, they say—</span></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Elizabeth.</span>  Do not dare! Do not dare!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> <span class="ws3"> Dare, Madam? May I not wonder, like another.</span></span> -<span class="i13">Why you have used me thus?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Elizabeth.</span>  I used you, dirt,</span> -<span class="i13">To show a man how foul the dirt can be;</span> -<span class="i13">But now I brush you from him.</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span> -<span class="i6"><i>The main door opens and</i> <span class="smcap">Henslowe</span> <i>enters followed by</i> <span class="smcap">Shakespeare</span>.</span> -<span class="i18"><i>She beckons to</i> <span class="smcap">Henslowe</span>.</span> -<span class="i13">Henslowe!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Henslowe.</span>  Madam?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i8"><i>They speak privately for a moment, then</i></span> -<span class="i8"><span class="smcap">Henslowe</span> <i>goes out by the small door.</i></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Mary</span> [<i>to</i> <span class="smcap">Shakespeare</span>].</span> -<span class="i13">You come to cue!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> What has fallen?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> <span class="ws3"> Sent away</span></span> -<span class="i13">Because of you, because my name is Mary!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Go to my lodging! Wait for me! I’ll follow,</span> -<span class="i13">For where you go I go.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> <span class="ws3"> Ay, bring your wife!</span></span> -<span class="i13">This act is over! There are other men!</span> -<span class="i21"><i>She goes out.</i></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Mary! Love, life, the breath I breathe, come back!</span> -<span class="i13">Mary, you have not heard me! Mary! Mary</span> -<span class="i13">Come back!   [<i>The door shuts with a clang.</i>]</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne’s Voice.</span> Come back!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Elizabeth.</span>   Never in any world!</span> -<span class="i13">Fasten the door there!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare</span> [<i>struggling to open it</i>].  Open! Open, I say!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Elizabeth.</span>  Beat, beat your heart out! Let me watch you beat</span> -<span class="i13">Those servants of your soul until they bleed,</span> -<span class="i13">Mash, agonise, against a senseless door!</span> -<span class="i13">Beat, beat your weaker hands than that dead tree,</span> -<span class="i13">Tear, tear your nails upon its nails in vain.</span> -<span class="i13">Beat, beat your heart out—you’ll not pass the door!</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span> -<span class="i13">Can you not come at her? She goes—beat, beat!</span> -<span class="i13">The distance widens, like a ship she goes</span> -<span class="i13">Utterly from you. Follow! Beat your hands!</span> -<span class="i13">What? Are you held, you who bow men with words</span> -<span class="i13">Windily down like corn-fields? Is she gone?</span> -<span class="i13">Call up the clouds to carry you who walk</span> -<span class="i13">Sky-high, star-level, eyeing the naked sun.</span> -<span class="i13">Where are your wings? Beat, beat your heart out! Beat!</span> -<span class="i13">Where is your strength? Will not the wood be moved?</span> -<span class="i13">Cannot your love-call reach her, you who know</span> -<span class="i13">The heart of the lark and how the warm throat thrills</span> -<span class="i13">At mating-time? Is there a living thing</span> -<span class="i13">You do not dwell in, cannot stir, and yet</span> -<span class="i13">You cannot move this door?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> I am not so bound—</span> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Elizabeth.</span>  Why, yes, there’s the window! You may cast down -and be done with it all—done with it all! I’ll not stop you. Who -am I to keep a man from his sweet rest? And yet—what of me, my -son, before you do it? What of me and this England that I am?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Madam, I have not slept these five nights. -I do not know what you say.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Elizabeth.</span>  Or care?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Or care, Madam, forgive me! God’s pity, Madam, -open the door!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Elizabeth.</span>  It shall not serve you.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> I know it.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Elizabeth.</span>  She has sold you, man.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> I know it. Open the door! -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Elizabeth.</span>  Come here, my son! Why do I hold you here, -think you?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Marlowe—</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Elizabeth.</span>  Tell me nothing! I’ll -know nothing! Mr. Shakespeare, where is the work I should have from -you? Where is the new play? You sold and I bought. Give me my goods! -Then go!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> A play? You are Queen, -Madam, you do not live our lives; so I call you not pure devilish to -keep me here for so little a thing.</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Elizabeth.</span>  Yet I will have it from you! There’s paper, pen—</span> -<span class="i13">I’ll have your roughed-out scene ere Henslowe leaves</span> -<span class="i13">To-night. And ere the ended month this play,</span> -<span class="i13">This English laughter, ringing all her bells,</span> -<span class="i13">Before the pick of Europe at my court</span> -<span class="i13">Performed, shall link our hands with Italy,</span> -<span class="i13">With old immortal Athens. This you’ll do,</span> -<span class="i13">For this you can.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare</span> [<i>crying out</i>]. I am to live, not write,</span> -<span class="i13">To love, not write of love, to live my life</span> -<span class="i13">As others do, to live a summer life</span> -<span class="i13">As all the others do!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Elizabeth.</span>  I thought so too</span> -<span class="i13">When I was young. Then, ’mid my state affairs</span> -<span class="i13">And droning voices of my ministers,</span> -<span class="i13">The people’s acclamation and the hiss</span> -<span class="i13">Of treacheries to England and to me,</span> -<span class="i13">Ever I heard the momentary clock</span> -<span class="i13">Ticking away my girlhood as I reigned;</span> -<span class="i13">While she—while she—</span> -<span class="i13">Mary of Scotland, Mary of delight,</span> -<span class="i13">(I know her sweetheart names) Maybird, Mayflower,</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span> -<span class="i13">The three times married honeysuckle queen,</span> -<span class="i13">She had her youth. Think you I’d not have changed,</span> -<span class="i13">Sat out her twenty years a prisoner,</span> -<span class="i13">Ridden her road from France to Fotheringay,</span> -<span class="i13">To have her story? Am I less woman, I,</span> -<span class="i13">That I’d not change with her? For the high way</span> -<span class="i13">Is flowerless, and thin the mountain air</span> -<span class="i13">And rends the lungs that breathe it; and the light</span> -<span class="i13">Spreading from hill to everlasting hill,</span> -<span class="i13">Welling across the sky as from a wound,</span> -<span class="i13">A heart of blood between the breasts of the world,</span> -<span class="i13">Is not much nearer, no, nor half as warm</span> -<span class="i13">As the kissing sun of the valleys: and we climb</span> -<span class="i13">(You’ll climb as I do) not because we will,</span> -<span class="i13">Because we must. There is no virtue in it;</span> -<span class="i13">But some pride. Fate can force but not befool me!</span> -<span class="i13">I am not drunken with religious dream</span> -<span class="i13">Like the poor blissful fools of kingdom come:</span> -<span class="i13">I know the flesh is sweetest, when all’s said,</span> -<span class="i13">And summer’s heyday and the love of men:</span> -<span class="i13">I know well what I lose. I’m head of the Church</span> -<span class="i13">And stoop my neck on Sunday—to what Christ?</span> -<span class="i13">The God of little children? I have none.</span> -<span class="i13">The God of love? What love has come to me?</span> -<span class="i13">The God upon His ass? I am not meek,</span> -<span class="i13">Nor is he meek, the stallion that I ride,</span> -<span class="i13">The great white horse of England. I’ll not bow</span> -<span class="i13">To the gentle Jesus of the women, I—</span> -<span class="i13">But to the man who hung ’twixt earth and heaven</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span> -<span class="i13">Six mortal hours, and knew the end (as strength</span> -<span class="i13">And custom was) three days away, yet ruled</span> -<span class="i13">His soul and body so, that when the sponge</span> -<span class="i13">Blessed his cracked lips with promise of relief</span> -<span class="i13">And quick oblivion, he would not drink:</span> -<span class="i13">He turned his head away and would not drink:</span> -<span class="i13">Spat out the anodyne and would not drink.</span> -<span class="i13">This was a god for kings and queens of pride,</span> -<span class="i13">And him I follow.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Whither?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Elizabeth.</span>  The alley’s blind.</span> -<span class="i13">For the cross rules us or we rule the cross,</span> -<span class="i13">Yet the cross wins in the end.</span> -<span class="i13">For night is older than the daylight is:</span> -<span class="i13">The slack string will not quiver for the hand</span> -<span class="i13">Of cunningest musician.</span> -<span class="i13">Does the cross care, a chafer on a pin,</span> -<span class="i13">Whether Barabbas writhe, or very God?</span> -<span class="i13">All’s one to the dead wood! Dead wood, dead wood,</span> -<span class="i13">It coffins us in the end. God, you and me</span> -<span class="i13">And everyone—the dead wood baffles all.</span> -<span class="i13">And why I care I know not, but I know</span> -<span class="i13">That I’ll die fighting—and the fight goes on.</span> -<span class="i13">Yet not uncaptained shall the assault go on</span> -<span class="i13">Against dead wood fencing the hearts of men.</span> -<span class="i13">For this I chose you.</span> -<span class="i13">I am a barren woman. Mary’s child</span> -<span class="i13">Reigns after me in England. Yet, to-night,</span> -<span class="i13">I crown my heir. I, England, crown my son.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> There was a better man but yesterday—</span> -<span class="i13">To him the crown! King was he of all song.</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Elizabeth.</span>  He’s king now of the silence after song,</span> -<span class="i13">When the last bell-note hovers, like a high</span> -<span class="i13">And starry rocket that dissolves in stars,</span> -<span class="i13">Lost ere they reach us. He is lord of that</span> -<span class="i13">For ever.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> He—he had the luck; but I,</span> -<span class="i13">But England was not lucky.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Elizabeth.</span>  Be assured</span> -<span class="i13">Had England chosen Marlowe, here to-night</span> -<span class="i13">England had crowned him, and you in Surrey ditch</span> -<span class="i13">Had lain where he lies, dead, my dead son, dead.</span> -<span class="i13">Take you the kingship on you!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> A player-king—</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Elizabeth.</span>  As I a player-queen! I play my part</span> -<span class="i13">Not ill, not ill. Judge me, my English peer,</span> -<span class="i13">And witness for me, that I play not ill</span> -<span class="i13">My part! And if by night, unseen, I weep,</span> -<span class="i13">Scourging my spirit down the track of the years,</span> -<span class="i13">Hating the name of Mary, as she said;</span> -<span class="i13">Yet comes and goes my hour, and comes again,</span> -<span class="i13">My hour, when I bear England in my breast</span> -<span class="i13">As God Almighty bears His universe,</span> -<span class="i13">England moves in me, I for England speak,</span> -<span class="i13">As I speak now. It is not the shut door,</span> -<span class="i13">But I, but England, holds you prisoner.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> But to what service, England, and what end?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Elizabeth.</span>  I send my ships where never ships have sailed,</span> -<span class="i13">To break the barriers and make wide the ways</span> -<span class="i13">For the after world.</span> -<span class="i13">Send you your ships to the hidden lands of the soul,</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span> -<span class="i13">To break the barriers and make plain the ways</span> -<span class="i13">Between man and man. Why else were we two born?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> What’s the worth of a play?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Elizabeth.</span>  My ships are not so great</span> -<span class="i13">And ride not like firm islands of dry land</span> -<span class="i13">As Philip’s do; yet these my cockle-boats</span> -<span class="i13">Have used the vast world as a village pound,</span> -<span class="i13">And fished for treasure above the planets’ bed</span> -<span class="i13">In the drowned palaces where, water-bleached,</span> -<span class="i13">Atlantis gleams as gleams the skull-white moon,</span> -<span class="i13">Rolled in the overwhelming tides of time</span> -<span class="i13">Hither and down the beaches of the sky.</span> -<span class="i13">Send out your thoughts as I send out my men,</span> -<span class="i13">To earn a world for England!—paying first</span> -<span class="i13">The toll of the pioneer. I do not cheat.</span> -<span class="i13">Here is the bill—reckon it ere you pay!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Have I not paid?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Elizabeth.</span>  Nay, hourly, till you die.</span> -<span class="i13">I tell you, you shall toss upon your bed</span> -<span class="i13">Crying “Let me sleep!” as men cry “Let me live!”</span> -<span class="i13">And sleeping you shall still cry “Mary! Mary!”</span> -<span class="i13">This will not pass. Think not the sun that wakes</span> -<span class="i13">The birds in England and the daisy-lawns,</span> -<span class="i13">Draws up the meadow fog like prayer to heaven,</span> -<span class="i13">And curls the smoke in cottage chimney stacks,</span> -<span class="i13">Shall once forget to wake you with a warm</span> -<span class="i13">And kissing breath! The four walls shall repeat</span> -<span class="i13">The name upon your lips, and in your heart</span> -<span class="i13">The name, the one name, like a knife shall turn.</span> -<span class="i13">These are your dawns. <i>I</i> tell you, I who know.</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span> -<span class="i13">Nor shall day spare you. All your prospering years,</span> -<span class="i13">The tasteless honours for yourself—not her—</span> -<span class="i13">The envy in men’s voices, (if they knew</span> -<span class="i13">The beggar that they envied!) all this shall stab,</span> -<span class="i13">Stab, stab, and stab again. And little things</span> -<span class="i13">Shall hurt you so: stray words in books you read,</span> -<span class="i13">And jests of strangers never meant to hurt you:</span> -<span class="i13">The lovers in the shadow of your fence,</span> -<span class="i13">Their faces hid, shall thrust a spare hand out,</span> -<span class="i13">The other held, to stab you as you pass:</span> -<span class="i13">And oh, the cry of children when they play!</span> -<span class="i13">You shall put grief in irons and lock it up,</span> -<span class="i13">And at the door set laughter for a guard,</span> -<span class="i13">Yet dance through life on knives and never rest,</span> -<span class="i13">While England knows you for a lucky man.</span> -<span class="i13">These are your days. I tell you, I, a queen,</span> -<span class="i13">Ruling myself and half a world. I know</span> -<span class="i13">What fate is laid upon you. Carry it!</span> -<span class="i13">Or, if you choose, flinch, weaken, and fall down,</span> -<span class="i13">Lie flat and howl, and let the ones that love you</span> -<span class="i13">(Not burdened less) half carry it and you!</span> -<span class="i13">Will you do that? Proud man, will you do that?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Because you are all woman—</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Elizabeth.</span>  Have you seen it?</span> -<span class="i13">None other sees.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> —and not as you’re the Queen,</span> -<span class="i13">I’ll let you be the tongue to my own soul,</span> -<span class="i13">Yet not for long I’ll bear it.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Elizabeth.</span>  To each his angel</span> -<span class="i13">For good or ill.</span> -<span class="i13">Women to a man, the man to a woman ever</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span> -<span class="i13">Mated or fated. I am this fate to you,</span> -<span class="i13">As to me once a fallen star you knew not.</span> -<span class="i13">It’s long ago. You should have known the man.</span> -<span class="i13">He was the glory of the English night,</span> -<span class="i13">Its red star in decline. For see what came—</span> -<span class="i13">His fires were earthy and he choked himself</span> -<span class="i13">In his own ash. Not good but goodly was he,</span> -<span class="i13">A natural prince of the world: and he had been one</span> -<span class="i13">Had he been other, or I blind, or—Mary.</span> -<span class="i13">Lucifer! Lucifer! He loved me not,</span> -<span class="i13">But would have used me. Well—he used me not.</span> -<span class="i13">He died. I loved him. This between us two.</span> -<span class="i13">Bury it deep!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Deep as my sorrow lies.</span> -<span class="i13">But Queen, what cometh after?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Elizabeth.</span>   Work.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> And after?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Elizabeth.</span>   Sleep comes for me.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> And after?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Elizabeth.</span>   Sleep for you.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> And after?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Elizabeth.</span>   Nothing. Only the blessed sleep.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> And so ends all?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Elizabeth.</span>   And so all ends.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Love ends?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Elizabeth.</span>   And so love ends.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> I have a word to say.</span> -<span class="i13">Give me this crown and reach the sceptre here!</span> -<span class="i13">The end’s not yet, but yet the end is mine;</span> -<span class="i13">For I know what I am and what I do</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span> -<span class="i13">At last! Give me my pen, ere the spark dies</span> -<span class="i13">That lights me! And now leave me!</span> -<span class="i19"><i>He turns to the table and his work.</i></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Elizabeth</span> [<i>loudly</i>].  Open the door!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Sesame, sesame! A word to say—</span> -<span class="i18"><i>The door is flung open and the long passage is seen.</i></span> -<span class="i13">O darkness, did she pass between your walls,</span> -<span class="i13">And left no picture on the empty air,</span> -<span class="i13">No echo of her step that waits for mine</span> -<span class="i13">To wake it in a message? What do I here?</span> -<span class="i13">“A word to say”! There’s nothing left but words.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i9"><span class="smcap">Elizabeth</span> <i>has descended from her throne</i></span> -<span class="i9"><i>and crossing the room, pauses a moment beside him.</i></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Elizabeth.</span>   Is the harness heavy—heavy?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Heavy as lead.</span> -<span class="i13">Heavy as a heart.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Elizabeth.</span> It will not lighten.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Go!  [<i>She goes out.</i>]</span> -<span class="i13">I had a word to say.</span> -<span class="i13">Oh, spark that burned but now—!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne’s Voice.</span> It dips, it dies—</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> A night-light, fool, and not a star. I grope</span> -<span class="i13">Giddily in the dark. I shall grow old.</span> -<span class="i13">What is my sum? I have made seven plays,</span> -<span class="i13">Two poems and some sonnets. I have friends</span> -<span class="i13">So long as I write poems, sonnets, plays.</span> -<span class="i13">Earn then your loves, and as you like it—write!</span> -<span class="i13">Come, what’s your will?</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span> -<span class="i13">Three sets of lovers and a duke or two,</span> -<span class="i13">Courtiers and fool—We’ll set it in a wood,</span> -<span class="i13">Half park, half orchard, like the woods at home.</span> -<span class="i13">See the house rustle, pit gape, boxes thrill,</span> -<span class="i13">As through the trees, boyishly, hand on hip,</span> -<span class="i13">Knee-deep in grass, zone-deep in margarets,</span> -<span class="i13">Comes to us—Mary!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne’s Voice.</span> Under the apple-trees,</span> -<span class="i13">In the spring, in the long grass—Will!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Still the old shame</span> -<span class="i13">Hangs round my neck with withered arms and chokes</span> -<span class="i13">Endeavour.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne’s Voice.</span> Will!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> At right wing enter ghost!</span> -<span class="i13">It should be Marlowe with his parted mouth</span> -<span class="i13">And sweep of arm. Why should he wake for me?</span> -<span class="i13">That would be friendship, and what a friend was I!</span> -<span class="i13">Well—to the work!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne’s Voice.</span> Will! Will!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> What, ghost? still there?</span> -<span class="i13">Must I speak first? That’s manners with the dead;</span> -<span class="i13">But this haunt lives—at Stratford, by the river.</span> -<span class="i13">Maggot, come out of my brain! Girl! Echo! Wraith!</span> -<span class="i13">You’ve had free lodging, like a rat, too long.</span> -<span class="i13">I need my room. Come, show yourself and go!</span> -<span class="i13">“Changed?” “But I knew her!”—Say your say and go!</span> -<span class="i13">You’d a tongue once.</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne’s Voice.</span> You’re to be great—</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Stale! Stale!</span> -<span class="i13">That’s the Queen’s catch-word.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne’s Voice.</span> But I know, I know,</span> -<span class="i13">I’m your poor village woman, but I know</span> -<span class="i13">What you must learn and learn, and shriek to God</span> -<span class="i13">To spare you learning—</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Ay, like wheels that shriek,</span> -<span class="i13">Carting the grain, their dragged unwilling way</span> -<span class="i13">Over the stones, uphill, at even, thus,</span> -<span class="i13">Shrieking, I learn—</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne’s Voice.</span> When harvest comes—</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Is come!</span> -<span class="i13">Sown, sprouted, scythed and garnered—</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne’s Voice.</span> I alone</span> -<span class="i13">Can give you comfort, for you reap my pain,</span> -<span class="i13">As I your loss—loss—loss—</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Anne, was it thus?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne’s Voice.</span> No other way—</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Such pain?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne’s Voice.</span> Such pain, such pain!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> I did not know. O tortured thing, remember,</span> -<span class="i13">I did not know—I did not know! Forgive—</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne’s Voice.</span> Forgiving is forgetting—no, come back!</span> -<span class="i13">I love you. Oh, come back to me, come back!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> I cannot.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne’s Voice.</span> Oh, come back! I love you so.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Be still, poor voice, be still!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne’s Voice.</span> I love you so.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> What is this love?</span> -<span class="i13">What is this awful spirit and unknown,</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span> -<span class="i13">That mates the suns and gives a bird his tune?</span> -<span class="i13">What is this stirring at the roots of the world?</span> -<span class="i13">What is this secret child that leaps in the womb</span> -<span class="i13">Of life? What is this wind, whence does it blow,</span> -<span class="i13">And why? And falls upon us like the flame</span> -<span class="i13">Of Pentecost, haphazard. What is this dire</span> -<span class="i13">And holy ghost that will not let us two</span> -<span class="i13">For no prayers’ sake nor good deeds’ sake nor pain</span> -<span class="i13">Nor pity, have peace, and live at ease, and die</span> -<span class="i13">As the leaves die?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne’s Voice.</span> I know not. All I know,</span> -<span class="i13">Is that I love you.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> But I know, having learned—</span> -<span class="i13">This I believe because I know, I know,</span> -<span class="i13">Being in hell, paying the price, alone,</span> -<span class="i13">Licked in the flame unspeakable and torn</span> -<span class="i13">By devils, as in the old tales that are true—</span> -<span class="i13">All true, the fires, the red hot branding irons,</span> -<span class="i13">The thirst, the laughter, and the filth of shame,</span> -<span class="i13">All true, O fellow men! all true, all true—</span> -<span class="i13">Down through the circles, like a mangled rat</span> -<span class="i13">A hawk lets fall from the far towers of the sky,</span> -<span class="i13">Down through the wakeful æons of the night,</span> -<span class="i13">Into the Pit of misery they call</span> -<span class="i13">Bottomless, falling—I believe and know</span> -<span class="i13">That the Pit’s bottom is the lap of God,</span> -<span class="i13">And God is love.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne’s Voice.</span> Is love, is love—</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> I know.</span> -<span class="i13">And knowing I will live my dark days out</span> -<span class="i13">And wait for His own evening to give light.</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span> -<span class="i13">And though I may not fill the mouth I love,</span> -<span class="i13">Yet will I sow and reap and bind my sheaves,</span> -<span class="i13">Glean, garner, mill my corn, and bake, and cast</span> -<span class="i13">My bread upon the waters of the age.</span> -<span class="i13">This will I do for love’s sake, lest God’s eyes,</span> -<span class="i13">That are the Judgment, ask her man of her</span> -<span class="i13">One day, and she be shamed—as I am shamed</span> -<span class="i13">Ever, in my heart, by a voice witnessing</span> -<span class="i13">Against me that I knew not love.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Page</span> [<i>entering with lights</i>].     The Queen, sir,</span> -<span class="i13">Has sent you candles, now the sun is down,</span> -<span class="i13">That you may see to work.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> I thank the Queen.</span> -<span class="i13">Tell her the work goes well!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i18"><i>He sits down at the table.</i></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i28">Act one, scene one,</span> -<span class="i13">Oliver’s house. It <i>shall</i> go well. I have</span> -<span class="i13">A strength that comes I know not whence. It <i>shall</i></span> -<span class="i13">Go well. And then I’ll give the Roman tale</span> -<span class="i13">I heard at school—a tale of men, not women:</span> -<span class="i13">That easies all. But Antony goes on</span> -<span class="i13">To Egypt and a gipsy: leaves his pale wife</span> -<span class="i13">At home to scald her eyes out. Mary—Mary—</span> -<span class="i13">Will you not let me be? It <i>shall</i> go well.</span> -<span class="i13">And after Antony some Twelfth Night trick</span> -<span class="i13">To please our gods and give my pregnancy</span> -<span class="i13">Its needed peace. How many months for Denmark?</span> -<span class="i13">And then? A whole man laughs, and so will I.</span> -<span class="i13">Oh, Smile behind the thunder, teach me laughter,</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span> -<span class="i13">And save my soul!—</span> -<span class="i13">The knock-about fat man, try him again!</span> -<span class="i13">He’ll take a month or less—candles are cheap,</span> -<span class="i13">Cheaper than sleep these dreaming nights. That done,</span> -<span class="i13">I’ll sink another shaft in Holinshed—</span> -<span class="i13">Marlowe, your diamonds! your diamonds!</span> -<span class="i13">The king and his three daughters—he’s been shaped</span> -<span class="i13">Already. True! But rough-cut only. Wait!</span> -<span class="i13">Give me that giant cluster in my hand</span> -<span class="i13">To cut anew, in its own midnight set,</span> -<span class="i13">It shall outshine Orion! Afterwards,</span> -<span class="i13">A fairy tale maybe, and after that—</span> -<span class="i13">And after that—and after—after? God!</span> -<span class="i13">The years before me! And no Mary! Mary—</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne’s Voice.</span> When her lost face—</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> It shall, it shall go well.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne’s Voice.</span> —stares from the page you toil upon, thus, thus,</span> -<span class="i13">In a glass of tears—</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> They scald, they blind my view,</span> -<span class="i13">No comfort anywhere.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne’s Voice.</span> I love you so.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> The work, the work remains.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne’s Voice.</span> But when you’re old,</span> -<span class="i13">For work too old, or pity, love or hate,</span> -<span class="i13">For anything but peace, and in your hand</span> -<span class="i13">Lies the crowned life victorious at last—</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> Like the crowned Indian fruit, the voyage home</span> -<span class="i13">Rots while it gilds, not worth the tasting—</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne’s Voice.</span> Then,</span> -<span class="i13">Remember me! Then, then, when all your need</span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span> -<span class="i13">Is hands to serve you and a breast to die on,</span> -<span class="i13">Come back to me!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> God knows—some day?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Anne’s Voice.</span> I wait.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i20"><i>As he stoops over his work again</i></span> -</div></div> - -<p class="center space-above1 space-below3">THE CURTAIN FALLS.</p> - -<p><i>January, 1920—April, 1921.</i></p> - -<p class="center space-above2">PRINTED IN GREAT BRITAIN BY WOODS AND SONS, LTD., LONDON, N.1.</p> -<hr class="full" /> -<div class="transnote"> -<p class="f120 space-above1">Transcriber's Notes:</p> -<hr class="r5" /> -<p>The play is a mix of prose and poetry, switching between the two continuously.</p> -<p>The indentation of the poetry section was not included. All poetic lines - have been lined up along the left side.</p> -</div> - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Will Shakespeare, by Clemence Dane - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WILL SHAKESPEARE *** - -***** This file should be named 50712-h.htm or 50712-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/0/7/1/50712/ - -Produced by Andrew Sly, Paul Marshall, Al Haines and the -Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm -concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, -and may not be used if you charge for the eBooks, unless you receive -specific permission. If you do not charge anything for copies of this -eBook, complying with the rules is very easy. You may use this eBook -for nearly any purpose such as creation of derivative works, reports, -performances and research. They may be modified and printed and given -away--you may do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks -not protected by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the -trademark license, especially commercial redistribution. - -START: FULL LICENSE - -THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE -PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK - -To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free -distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work -(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full -Project Gutenberg-tm License available with this file or online at -www.gutenberg.org/license. - -Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works - -1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to -and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property -(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all -the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or -destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your -possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a -Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound -by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the -person or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph -1.E.8. - -1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be -used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who -agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few -things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See -paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this -agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below. - -1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the -Foundation" or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection -of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual -works in the collection are in the public domain in the United -States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the -United States and you are located in the United States, we do not -claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing, -displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as -all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope -that you will support the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting -free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm -works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the -Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with the work. You can easily -comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the -same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg-tm License when -you share it without charge with others. - -1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern -what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are -in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, -check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this -agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, -distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any -other Project Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no -representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any -country outside the United States. - -1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: - -1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other -immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear -prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work -on which the phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the -phrase "Project Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, -performed, viewed, copied or distributed: - - This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and - most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no - restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it - under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this - eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the - United States, you'll have to check the laws of the country where you - are located before using this ebook. - -1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is -derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not -contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the -copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in -the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are -redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply -either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or -obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg-tm -trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted -with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution -must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any -additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms -will be linked to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works -posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the -beginning of this work. - -1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm -License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this -work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. - -1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this -electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without -prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with -active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project -Gutenberg-tm License. - -1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, -compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including -any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access -to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format -other than "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official -version posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site -(www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense -to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means -of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original "Plain -Vanilla ASCII" or other form. Any alternate format must include the -full Project Gutenberg-tm License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. - -1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, -performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works -unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing -access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -provided that - -* You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from - the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method - you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed - to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he has - agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid - within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are - legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty - payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in - Section 4, "Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg - Literary Archive Foundation." - -* You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies - you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he - does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm - License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all - copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue - all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg-tm - works. - -* You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of - any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the - electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of - receipt of the work. - -* You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free - distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. - -1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work or group of works on different terms than -are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing -from both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and The -Project Gutenberg Trademark LLC, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm -trademark. Contact the Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. - -1.F. - -1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable -effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread -works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project -Gutenberg-tm collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may -contain "Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate -or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other -intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or -other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or -cannot be read by your equipment. - -1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right -of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project -Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all -liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal -fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT -LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE -PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE -TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE -LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR -INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH -DAMAGE. - -1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a -defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can -receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a -written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you -received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium -with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you -with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in -lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person -or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second -opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If -the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing -without further opportunities to fix the problem. - -1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth -in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO -OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT -LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. - -1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied -warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of -damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement -violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the -agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or -limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or -unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the -remaining provisions. - -1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the -trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone -providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in -accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the -production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, -including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of -the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this -or any Project Gutenberg-tm work, (b) alteration, modification, or -additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any -Defect you cause. - -Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm - -Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of -electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of -computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It -exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations -from people in all walks of life. - -Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the -assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's -goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will -remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure -and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future -generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see -Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at -www.gutenberg.org - - - -Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation - -The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit -501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the -state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal -Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification -number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by -U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. - -The Foundation's principal office is in Fairbanks, Alaska, with the -mailing address: PO Box 750175, Fairbanks, AK 99775, but its -volunteers and employees are scattered throughout numerous -locations. Its business office is located at 809 North 1500 West, Salt -Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up to -date contact information can be found at the Foundation's web site and -official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact - -For additional contact information: - - Dr. Gregory B. Newby - Chief Executive and Director - gbnewby@pglaf.org - -Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation - -Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide -spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of -increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be -freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest -array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations -($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt -status with the IRS. - -The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating -charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United -States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a -considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up -with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations -where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND -DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular -state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate - -While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we -have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition -against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who -approach us with offers to donate. - -International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make -any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from -outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. - -Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation -methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other -ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To -donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate - -Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. - -Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project -Gutenberg-tm concept of a library of electronic works that could be -freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and -distributed Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of -volunteer support. - -Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed -editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in -the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not -necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper -edition. - -Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search -facility: www.gutenberg.org - -This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. - - - -</pre> - -</body> -</html> diff --git a/old/50712-h/images/cover.jpg b/old/50712-h/images/cover.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 2d037f3..0000000 --- a/old/50712-h/images/cover.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/50712-h/images/i_002.jpg b/old/50712-h/images/i_002.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index e300188..0000000 --- a/old/50712-h/images/i_002.jpg +++ /dev/null |
