ANNE. --and when she turns To stone, to a stone, to an unvouchsafing stone Under your clutch-- SHAKESPEARE. You rave! ANNE. --loved hands, remember Me 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 old Already in my heart), too weary-old For 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, then Come back to me-- SHAKESPEARE [_at the door_]. Farewell! ANNE. --when all your need Is 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 fall And cover all Without 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. THE CURTAIN FALLS. ACT II. SCENE I.