HENSLOWE. Ay, Jonathan--of David, the singer, of him that took Bathsheba, all men know how. [SHAKESPEARE _makes a threatening movement._] No, no, Will! I am too old a man to give and take with you--too old a man and too old a friend. SHAKESPEARE. So you’re to lie and I’m to listen because you’re an old man! HENSLOWE. Lie? Ask any in the town. I’m but a day returned and already I’ve heard the talk. Why, man, they make songs of it in the street! SHAKESPEARE. It? It? It? HENSLOWE. Boy? BOY. Here, sir? HENSLOWE. What was that song you whistled as you came up the stairs? BOY. ‘Weathercock,’ sir? HENSLOWE. That’s it! BOY. Lord, sir, I know but the one verse I heard a drayman sing. HENSLOWE. How does it go? BOY. It goes--[_singing._] Two birds settle on a weathercock-- How’s the wind to-day--O? One shall nest and one shall knock-- How’s the wind to-day--O? Turn about and turn about, Kit pops in as Will pops out! Winds that whistle round the weathercock, Who’s her love to-day--O? It’s a good tune, sir! HENSLOWE. Eh, Will? A good tune! A rousing tune! SHAKESPEARE [_softly_]. “For this prize, if I loved her, I would pay all I had! I do what I choose though it damn me!” BOY. May I go, sir? SHAKESPEARE. Go, go! BOY. And my pay, sir? Indeed I’d have stopped the lady if I could. But she made as if she were not herself, and rode out of the yard. But I knew her, for all her riding-coat and breeches. HENSLOWE. What’s all this? SHAKESPEARE [_to the boy_]. You’re dreaming-- BOY. No, sir, there was your ring on her finger-- SHAKESPEARE. Be still! Take this and forget your dreams! [_He gives him money._] Henslowe, farewell! If you’ve lied to me I’ll pay you for it, and if you’ve spoken truth to me I’ll pay you for it no less. HENSLOWE. Pay? I want no pay. I want the play that the Queen ordered, and will have in the end, mark that! You have not yet served the Queen. SHAKESPEARE. Boy! Hugh! BOY. Sir? SHAKESPEARE. Which way did she ride? BOY. Am I asleep or awake, sir? SHAKESPEARE. Which way did she ride? BOY. Across the bridge, sir, as I dreamt it, along the Deptford road. SHAKESPEARE. Marlowe! The Deptford road! The Deptford road! [_He rushes out._] BOY [_showing his money_]. Dreaming pays, sir! It’s gold. HENSLOWE. Boy, boy! Never trust a man! Never kiss a woman! Work all day and sleep all night! Love yourself and never ask God for the moon! So you may live to be old. This business grows beyond me. I’ll to the Queen. _He trots out, shaking his head. The boy skips after him, whistling his tune._ THE CURTAIN FALLS. ACT III.