_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.