running thrush. When she sees how they are employed, she rises
angrily to her full height, and listens jealously._

THE MAN. _[unaware of the Dark Lady]_ Then cease to make my hands
tremble with the streams of life you pour through them. You hold me
as the lodestar holds the iron: I cannot but cling to you. We are
lost, you and I: nothing can separate us now.

THE DARK LADY. We shall see that, false lying hound, you and your
filthy trull. _[With two vigorous cuffs, she knocks the pair asunder,
sending the man, who is unlucky enough to receive a righthanded blow,
sprawling an the flags]._ Take that, both of you!

THE CLOAKED LADY. _[in towering wrath, throwing off her cloak and
turning in outraged majesty on her assailant]_ High treason!

THE DARK LADY. _[recognizing her and falling on her knees in abject
terror]_ Will: I am lost: I have struck the Queen.

THE MAN. _[sitting up as majestically as his ignominious posture
allows]_ Woman: you have struck WILLIAM SHAKESPEAR.

QUEEN ELIZABETH. _[stupent]_ Marry, come up!!! Struck William
Shakespear quotha! And who in the name of all the sluts and jades and
light-o'-loves and fly-by-nights that infest this palace of mine, may
William Shakespear be?

THE DARK LADY. Madam: he is but a player. Oh, I could have my hand
cut off--