Henslowe. You’ll write of lovers too, not once nor twice.
Shakespeare. Their scales were level ere they died of love, In Italy—
Henslowe. But if instead they had lived—in Stratford—there’d have been such a see-saw in six months as—
Shakespeare. As what?
Henslowe. As there has been, eh? “See-saw! Margery Daw! She sold her bed to lie upon straw.” And so—poor Margery! Though she counts me an enemy—poor Margery!
Shakespeare. What help for Margery—and her Jack?
Henslowe. None, friend, in Stratford.
Shakespeare. Do I not know it?
Henslowe. Then—tell Margery!
Shakespeare. Deaf, deaf!