Perhaps: all women want to love and be loved. Men desire beauty, wealth, power, honours; we want nothing but love, love only: love is our religion. You see the doublet and hose have not changed my disposition. But Lady Cynthia will be here soon—— [_Rises._] SHAKESPEARE: When am I to see you again and where? I only live for the hope of seeing you, and now I’ve been with you and said nothing—nothing! MISS FITTON: Hist! [_Moves behind the spinet again: Shakespeare follows. Lady Jane Wroth and Lady Rutland cross stage from_ L.C. _to_ L.] LADY JANE WROTH: Oh, Lord Herbert is wonderful. As he came from the Queen he met me at the door of the antechamber: I stopped to let him pass: he drew me to him and kissed me on the lips. I could not help it. Do you think he means anything? LADY RUTLAND: Not he. Herbert! He means you are a girl and pretty. Take care, Jane; broken hearts come from such kissings. LADY JANE WROTH: But why should he want to kiss me if he does not love me? LADY RUTLAND: Men love to kiss, dear, and we kiss because we love—that’s the difference. LADY JANE WROTH: I wish I were a man, for I love the kiss, too. LADY RUTLAND: Hush, dear, hush! you must not say that: if you were overheard—[_Glances round nervously: they go off_ L.] MISS FITTON: The silly women! [_To Shakespeare._] But why do you love so madly? ’Tis not wise. SHAKESPEARE: Wisdom and love, sweet, are sworn enemies. MISS FITTON: [_Rising._] I have many faults: if you knew them all, you might not love me. SHAKESPEARE: Faults! you have no faults! MISS FITTON: [_Gravely._] I’m too tall, and I look twenty-five though I’m only seventeen. Then my nose is not quite straight—do you see? [_Holds up her face._] Besides, I’m very proud and hot-tempered—vain! No: I’m not vain, ever. SHAKESPEARE: Delightful wretch! [_Puts his hands on her shoulders._] Now girlish-gay and now so witty-wise; but always adorable. MISS FITTON: [_Holding his hands away by the wrists._] I’m very proud, you know, and want the truth always. I’d never forgive you if you deceived me. SHAKESPEARE: Who could deceive you? Give me your love and I’ll be true as hand to heart. [_She puts her hand on his shoulder: he lays his hand on her outstretched arm and gazes in her eyes._] Your beauty comes upon my soul like music ravishing the sense. How I adore you. [_Kneels._] You make me humble: I seem a thing of naught and you a Queen—divine—[_She stoops and kisses his forehead; in a sort of exaltation he cries_:] Now life begins anew for me; this hour is consecrate—— MISS FITTON: [_Putting her finger to her lips and glancing at the canopy._] You must go and so must I. Hush! Farewell. [_Goes off_, L.C. _Shakespeare looks after her, takes a step as if to follow her, and then goes off hurriedly_ L.] SCENE X. HERBERT: [_Enters_, R.; _walks to Raleigh_.] Was my name taken to the Queen, Captain? RALEIGH: