MARLOWE. Forget him? As soon forget myself! I am his courage, His worldly wisdom--Mary, I think I am The youth he lost in Stratford. Yet we’re one age, And now we write one play. If I died of a sudden, It seems he’d breathe me as I left my body, And I should live in him as sunshine lies Forgotten in a forest, and be found In slants and pools and patterns, golden still In all he writes. MARY. O dull Kit! have I adventured here to hear you talk of dying? MARLOWE. You borrowed Archer’s name. MARY. I wanted one that would startle you out to me, and you told me the tale of him once, how young he died. MARLOWE. And how unwilling! You’ve set him running in my head like a spider in a skull, Spinning across the hollows of mine eyes A web of dusty thought. Sweet, brush him off! Death’s a vile dreg in this intoxicant, This liquor of the gods, this seven-hued life. Sometimes I pinch myself, say--“Can you die? Is it possible? Will you be winter-nipped One day like other flies?” I’m glad you came. Stay with me, stay, till the last minute of life! Let the court go, the world go, stay with me! MARY [_her arms round him_]. So--quiet till the dawn comes, quiet! Hark! Who called? Did you hear it? MARLOWE. Birds in the ivy. MARY. No. Twice in the road I stopped and turned about Because I heard my name called. There was nothing; Yet I had heard it--Mary--Mary--Mary! MARLOWE. You heard your own heart pound from riding. MARY. Again! Open the window! [MARLOWE _rises and goes to the window._] Do you see anything? MARLOWE. All’s sinister. The moon fled out of the sky Long since, and the black trees of midnight quake. MARY. And the wind! What a wind! It tugs at the window-frame Like jealousy, mad to break in and part us. Could you be jealous? MARLOWE. If I were a fool I’d let you guess it. MARY. Wise, you’re wise, but--jealous? Too many men in the world! I’d lift no finger To beckon back the fool that tired of me, Would you? But he, he glooms and says no word, But follows with his eyes whene’er I stir. I hate those asking eyes. Look thus at me But once and--ended, Marlowe! I’ll not give But when I choose. [_He sits beside her._] MARLOWE. But when _I_ choose. _Behind them the blur of the window is darkened._