Self-absorbed as ever.
Dekker:
[Sneeringly.] Lost on Parnassus!
Shakespeare:
What was it, Fletcher?
Fletcher:
A scene for Dekker. The orange-girls have been pelting the ladies in their rooms. The ladies gibed at them, and they replied with rotten fruit. The ladies shrieked, and hid themselves; all but one, who stood in front and outfaced the furies—a queen!
Shakespeare:
Are they safe? Where are they now?
Burbage: