The Players[singing]. Come with us to London,Folly, come away!We’ll make your fortuneOn a summer day.Leave your sloes and mulberries!There are riper fruits than these,In London, in London,Oh, London Town!For winds will blowAnd barley growWithout you, without you,And the world get on without you—Oh, London Town!
The Players[singing]. Come with us to London,Folly, come away!We’ll make your fortuneOn a summer day.Leave your sloes and mulberries!There are riper fruits than these,In London, in London,Oh, London Town!For winds will blowAnd barley growWithout you, without you,And the world get on without you—Oh, London Town!
The voices drop to a low hum.Henslowethrusts 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 waitsWithin the gatesOf London, of London—He must be quick!Anne.AmIto tell him so?Henslowe.The new moon’s up and reaping in a skyLike corn—that’s frost! A bitter travelling nightBefore 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 fortuneLong 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.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 waitsWithin the gatesOf London, of London—He must be quick!
Anne.AmIto tell him so?
Henslowe.The new moon’s up and reaping in a skyLike corn—that’s frost! A bitter travelling nightBefore 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 fortuneLong 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 fellowOn the high road! He’ll come to you soon enough.She turns from them and seats herself by the fire.
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 fellowOn 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, overHenslowe’sshoulder]. 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 thePlayer’sarm]. I can’t feel my fingers. [Annelooks at him. Her face changes.]
Anne.If the fire warms you, you may warm yourselves.The Playersstream 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 Playersstare 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 firstIt 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.
Anne.If the fire warms you, you may warm yourselves.The Playersstream 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 Playersstare 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 firstIt 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?
Annegoes 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 thePlayers.The crowd grows larger every moment and is thickest at the foot of the stairs.Shakespeareis 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!
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 laughterWhen 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 storyBefore I had half-way climbed to the nearest starMy 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 againTo 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 wispsOf being, how they fasten like a cloudOf gnats upon me, not to be shaken offUnsatisfied—The Shadows.Sing! Sing!
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 laughterWhen 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 storyBefore I had half-way climbed to the nearest starMy 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 againTo 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 wispsOf being, how they fasten like a cloudOf gnats upon me, not to be shaken offUnsatisfied—
The Shadows.Sing! Sing!
There is a strain of music: the crowd hidesShakespeare: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 Maskshave 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!
Anne.I’ll see you!
First Mask.No!
As she retreats theSecond Masktakes 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!TheSecond Maskdrops her veil andshows the face of a dark lady.It needs not!I knew, I knew! Barren the ground beneath,No flowers, no fruit, spent arrows—TheSecond Maskmakes way for theThirdwho takes the tangle from her. TheSecond Maskglides 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 ofElizabeth.I do not fear the Queen—Third Mask.Take back the thread!She gives the distaff to theFirst Maskwhohas 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 revealedis the face ofAnne.She screams.Myself! I saw myself! Will! Will!
Second Mask.I tangle it.
Anne.Who are you?
Second Mask.Fate! his fate!
Anne.Drop the bright mask and let me see!
TheSecond Maskdrops her veil andshows the face of a dark lady.It needs not!I knew, I knew! Barren the ground beneath,No flowers, no fruit, spent arrows—
TheSecond Maskmakes way for theThirdwho takes the tangle from her. TheSecond Maskglides 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 ofElizabeth.I do not fear the Queen—
Third Mask.Take back the thread!
She gives the distaff to theFirst Maskwhohas 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 revealedis the face ofAnne.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 andShakespearewho has hurried toAnne.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.
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 Playerstrail 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.Henslowegoes 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 fortuneThrice in a day.Paddocks leave and winter byres,London has a thousand spires,A-chiming, a-rhyming,Oh, London Town!The snow will fallAnd cover allWithout you, without you,And the world get on without you—Oh, London Town!Shakespearegoes hurriedly to the table and picks up his books.Anne.Will!Shakespeare.For your needsYou 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 leftIn 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 wakeDrowsily in a minute? Oh, bless’d wakingTo peace and sunshine and no evil done!Count out the minute—Shakespeare.If ever I forgetThe 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 sunBlazes the noon down, that my sun is set,Extinct and cindered in a bitter sea,And warm me with a thought. For we are boundCloser than love or chains or marriage binds:We went by night and each in other’s heartSowed tares, sowed tears. Husband, when harvest comes,Of all your men and women I aloneCan give you comfort, for you’ll reap my painAs 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 turnsTo stone, to a stone, to an unvouchsafing stoneUnder your clutch—Shakespeare.You rave!Anne.—loved hands, rememberMe 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 oldAlready in my heart), too weary-oldFor 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, thenCome back to me—Shakespeare[at the door]. Farewell!Anne.—when all your needIs 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 fallAnd cover allWithout you, without you—The words are lost.Shakespeare[joyfully.] Ah! London Town
The Players[singing].Come away to London,Folly, come away!You’ll make your fortuneThrice in a day.Paddocks leave and winter byres,London has a thousand spires,A-chiming, a-rhyming,Oh, London Town!The snow will fallAnd cover allWithout you, without you,And the world get on without you—Oh, London Town!
Shakespearegoes hurriedly to the table and picks up his books.
Anne.Will!
Shakespeare.For your needsYou 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 leftIn 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 wakeDrowsily in a minute? Oh, bless’d wakingTo peace and sunshine and no evil done!Count out the minute—
Shakespeare.If ever I forgetThe 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 sunBlazes the noon down, that my sun is set,Extinct and cindered in a bitter sea,And warm me with a thought. For we are boundCloser than love or chains or marriage binds:We went by night and each in other’s heartSowed tares, sowed tears. Husband, when harvest comes,Of all your men and women I aloneCan give you comfort, for you’ll reap my painAs 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 turnsTo stone, to a stone, to an unvouchsafing stoneUnder your clutch—
Shakespeare.You rave!
Anne.—loved hands, rememberMe 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 oldAlready in my heart), too weary-oldFor 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, thenCome back to me—
Shakespeare[at the door]. Farewell!
Anne.—when all your needIs 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 fallAnd cover allWithout 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.
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.