Elizabeth. A boy’s glory, not a man’s.
Henslowe. ‘Faust’ and ‘The Jew of Malta’!
Elizabeth. I know them.
Henslowe. He’ll do greater things yet.
Elizabeth. Do you believe that, Henslowe?
Henslowe. No, Madam.
Elizabeth. Then why do you lie to me?
Henslowe. Madam, I mark time. I have my man; but he is not yet ripe.
Elizabeth. How long have you served me, Henslowe?
Henslowe. Twelve years.