“And by what else?”
“The contradictory reports of his death.”
“And to what conclusion does all this tend?”
“That Marlowe still lives, an outcast, a fugitive from justice.”
“But why an outcast; why a fugitive?”
“What else would cause him to keep concealed?”
“Thou hast not answered the question.”
“Did he not offend the church? Were not direct charges made against him? Was not the Queen apprised? Was not this but three days before his disappearance? You know the charge?”
“Aye, blasphemy.”
“And see what the play reveals, bitter remembrances, personal griefs and doubts, misanthropy in strongest sort. ‘The suits of woe,’ the ‘weary, stale, flat and unprofitable uses of this world,’ ‘contagious blastments,’ the losing of ‘all mirth,’ ‘we fools of nature,’ ‘the sleep of death,’ ‘the blister on the forehead of the once innocent love,’ These are but the outpourings of one sick of the vanities of life, hopeless of fame, bereft of all joys, and unsolaced by religion.”