The Merchant of Vengeance
“"Well, if they are piled up in bloody fucking heaps, methinks 'tis likely that we may assume that there are bloody fucking scores of them!" shouted Marlowe, throwing up his hands in exasperation. "Why can you not read the lines the way I wrote them? And why is that man shaking?" he added, his voice rising to a screech as he leaned over the gallery rail and pointed an accusatory finger toward the stage, straight at Kemp.
"Must be all those infants swimming in their parents' blood," Shakespeare m...urmured quietly to Smythe as they stood together near the back of the stage, holding spears up by their sides.
Smythe snorted as he barely repressed a guffaw.
"Kemp? Is that you again?" shouted Marlowe.
In vain, the trembling Kemp tried to conceal himself behind John Hemings, who was far too thin to help conceal much of anything.
"I can still see you, Kemp, you horrible man!" shouted Marlowe. "Why the devil are you twitching about so?" "Doubtless he is attempting to upstage me," Alleyn said petulantly.MoreLess
"Must be all those infants swimming in their parents' blood," Shakespeare m...urmured quietly to Smythe as they stood together near the back of the stage, holding spears up by their sides.
Smythe snorted as he barely repressed a guffaw.
"Kemp? Is that you again?" shouted Marlowe.
In vain, the trembling Kemp tried to conceal himself behind John Hemings, who was far too thin to help conceal much of anything.
"I can still see you, Kemp, you horrible man!" shouted Marlowe. "Why the devil are you twitching about so?" "Doubtless he is attempting to upstage me," Alleyn said petulantly.MoreLess
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