Elizabeth. Marlowe’s across the river, far from us.
If any ask to speak with me, let me know it!
Girl. Why, Madam, Henslowe, the old player, has been waiting since noon, and Mr. Shakespeare with him.
Elizabeth. The name’s not written here. Whose duty?
Girl. Mary Fitton’s.
Elizabeth. Send Henslowe! And when I ring let Mary Fitton answer!
Girl. I’ll tell her, Madam.
She goes out. Elizabeth rises and goes slowly across the room to the dais and seats herself. There is a pause. Then a page throws open the big door facing the dais and Henslowe enters.
Elizabeth. Henslowe, you’re not welcome For the news you bring.
Henslowe. Madam, that Marlowe’s dead I know because I found him—I am new come from Deptford— But how you know I know not.