thomas kent. i would like to do a speech by a writer who commands the heart of every player.
"what light is light, if silvia be not seen, what joy is joy, if silvia be not by? unless it be to think that she is by and feed upon the shadow of perfection.
" …except i be by silvia in the night, there is no music in the nightingale. unless i look on silvia in the day, there is no day for me to look upon."
my hat?
are you mr. shakespeare?
yes, sir.
no, sir.
i am very sorry, sir, i have not seen act two.
and this for you.
if you love her, you must do what she asks.
it is only ours you can know.
does she say so?
i … her letter came to me by the nurse.
yes, my aunt. but perhaps she wept a little. tell me how you love her, will.
yes, like rain and sun, like cold and heat. is your lady beautiful? since i came to visit from the country, i have not seen her close. tell me, is she beautiful?
and her lips?
and her voice? like lark song?
she sings too?
what of her bosom?
i think the lady is wise to keep your love at a distance. for what lady could live up to it close to, when her eyes and lips and voice may be no more beautiful than mine? besides, can a lady born to wealth and noble marriage love happily with a bankside poet and player?
but what of lord wessex?
(looking around guardedly. to
oh!--it's--it's--oh, it's a house of ill- repute!
the admiral's men!
my wick?