We are such stuff
As dreams are made on, and our little life
Is rounded with a sleep.
(He is silent for a while. Suddenly he lifts his head)
My room at Eton, Dick said. An untidy mess.
(As he lifts his head and says these words, twilight gives place to broad daylight, merely as a hint that the author of the play may have been mistaken, and the whole thing may have been no more than a poet's dream.)
So it was, and it's an untidy mess there (looking at screen) too. Dick's right. I'll tidy it up. I'll burn the whole damned heap. (He advances impetuously toward the screen) Every damned poem that I was ever fool enough to waste my time on.
(He pushes back the screen. FAME in a Greek dress with a long golden trumpet in her hand is seen standing motionless on the altar like a marble goddess.)
So … you have come!
(For a while he stands thunderstruck. Then he approaches the altar.)
Divine fair lady, you have come.
(He holds up his hands to her and leads her down from the altar and into the centre of the stage. At whatever moment the actor finds it most convenient, he repossesses himself of the sonnet that he had placed on the altar. He now offers it to FAME.)