THE DARK LADY OF THE SONNETS

_Fin de siecle 15-1600. Midsummer night on the terrace of the Palace
at Whitehall, overlooking the Thames. The Palace clock chimes four
quarters and strikes eleven._

_A Beefeater on guard. A Cloaked Man approaches._

THE BEEFEATER. Stand. Who goes there? Give the word.

THE MAN. Marry! I cannot. I have clean forgotten it.

THE BEEFEATER. Then cannot you pass here. What is your business?
Who are you? Are you a true man?

THE MAN. Far from it, Master Warder. I am not the same man two days
together: sometimes Adam, sometimes Benvolio, and anon the Ghost.

THE BEEFEATER. _[recoiling]_ A ghost! Angels and ministers of grace
defend us!

THE MAN. Well said, Master Warder. With your leave I will set that
down in writing; for I have a very poor and unhappy brain for
remembrance. _[He takes out his tablets and writes]._ Methinks this
is a good scene, with you on your lonely watch, and I approaching like
a ghost in the moonlight. Stare not so amazedly at me; but mark what
I say. I keep tryst here to-night with a dark lady. She promised to
bribe the warder. I gave her the wherewithal: four tickets for the