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Shakespeare and His Love

Act 1 — Scene I.

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The tiring-room behind the stage of the Globe theatre after a performance of “The Merchant of Venice.”

[As the curtain goes up an attendant is discovered listening at door L. There is a noise to be heard as of persons leaving the theatre: as the door is thrown open the attendant moves aside. The Earl of Southampton, Lord Lacy, Sir John Stanley, Chapman, Dekker, Marston, Fletcher, John Selden and Burbage enter.]

Sir John Stanley:

[Flinging in.] What a foolish play! And what a spendthrift merchant!

Chapman:

Trivial, I found it. Trivial and silly.

Lacy:

[With graceful gesture.] Most excellent in invention, liberal in conceit. The Jew a gem, a gem, I say—a balass ruby of rich Orient blood!

8Dekker:

Pretty, perhaps, but tedious! Tedious—as a rival’s praise, eh, Chapman?

Southampton:

Ah, Master Burbage, you outdid yourself as Shylock. When you sharpened the knife, we all shivered.

Burbage:

I’m much beholden to your lordship.

Fletcher:

[To Lord Lacy] The scene between the lovers in the moonlight was not ill-conceived. That Lorenzo had something of Shakespeare in him.

Lacy:

And Jessica! The name’s a perfume. A flower, Jessica, of most rare depicture, dear to fancy, responsive to a breath!

Dekker:

[Aside to Fletcher.] Has the gull any meaning?

Selden:

His words, Dekker, are like his dress: too choice for ease, too rich for service: but he’s of great place, and friend to Essex.

9Fletcher:

[To Southampton.] The end’s weak, and the merchant too much the saint.

Dekker:

Saints are always tiresome unless they’re martyred.

Southampton:

And detractors, unless they’re witty.

Lacy:

[Reproachfully.] A cannon-ball as a retort! Fie, fie, my lord Southampton. A little salve of soft disdain obliterates the sting, and no one shoots at midges.

[Enter Shakespeare, who takes a seat apart.]

Southampton:

[Moving aside, with Lacy, waves his hand to Shakespeare.] Good! good!

Sir John Stanley:

Give me an English play. Why can’t we have a play where we thrash the Spaniards? Curse Venice! What’s Venice to me! [Exit, accompanied by Marston and Dekker; Fletcher and Chapman follow.]

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