Anne. Come back! Come back! I’m sorry. Oh, come back! I talk too much. I crossed you. You must eat. Oh! Oh! I meant no harm—I meant no harm I— You know?
Shakespeare. I know.
Anne. Why then, come back and eat, And talk to me. Aren’t you a boy to lose All day in the woods?
Shakespeare. The town!
Anne. Ah! In the town? Ah then, you’ve talked and eaten. Yes, you can talk In the town! He goes back to his desk. More writing? What’s the dream to-day? He winces. Oh, tell me, tell me!
Shakespeare. No!
Shakespeare. A dream’s a bubble, Anne, and yet a world, Unsailed, uncharted, mine. But stretch your hand To touch it—gone! And you have wet your fingers, Whilst I, like Alexander, want my world— And so I scold my wife.
Anne. Oh, let me sail Your world with you.
Shakespeare. One day, when all is mapped On paper—