“Yes,” said Betty, nodding her head.
“Now, remembering our modern theatres, come and see the places in which Shakespeare’s plays are acted in this sixteenth century in which we find ourselves!”
They went on over the bridge to that part of Southwark lying along the shore of the river, which is now called Bankside. But instead of the modern warehouses and breweries lining the river, with the streets of South London stretching away and away beyond, Betty saw only a single row of small gabled houses along the top of a mound.
“Before that bank was thrown up, all the ground on this south side of the river was under water at high tide,” explained Godmother. “Now, as you see, meadows and gardens stretch behind these houses and it is all fertile land.”
“What are those funny-looking buildings dotted about in the fields?” Betty asked. “I don’t mean the inns, because I remember them, from the time of Richard the Second. There’s the Tabard, where we saw the pilgrims. But there are two or three buildings sticking up like towers. Do you see?”
“Those are the theatres. Come and see one of them. We’ll go into one that has just been built—The Globe, as it is called.”
Betty followed the old lady wonderingly as she led the way to the right, along a path by the river till they came close to a curious, tall, six-sided building. Over its door was an inscription in Latin.
“What does it mean?” Betty asked, as she gazed at this strange “theatre.”
“Well, we may translate it ‘All the world’s a stage.’”
“Why, that’s in ‘Shakespeare!’”