Portia
Including you.
Is that a young Bottom I see?!
Crowd
Shakespeare!
(polite greetings as HE works the room)
Hi… hi… how are you, thanks for coming… good to see you, yes you can touch me, oooh, I wanna talk to you… Not now.
(Arriving at Nigel)
So… Nigel Bottom—playwright, poet and prestigious prodigy.
(to the crowd)
Oooh, that was a lot of alliteration—
(sing-song)
Occupational Ha-zard!
(playing to crowd, then back to Nigel)
So—Nicky Bottom’s little brother. His “secret weapon”, all grown up. And who is this delightful damsel, this maiden fair, this feast for the eys?
Nigel
Oh, um…This is Portia.
Portia. Good name.
(Portia stares stage-struck, mouth quivering, breathing quickening)
That’s right. This is happening. Just breathe…
M-m-m-master Shakespeare…
She bows and is now so tipsy she collapses to the ground.
Aw, she’s bedazzled. You like that word? I made it up, it’s what I do!
(turns to crowd)
Let’s drink to that!
I think i need a bit of a lie down.
(She tries to sit on a sofa but falls behind it.)
So! Nigel. What are you and that brother of yours working on? A tragedy? A comedy? A tragic attmept at comedy?
See what I did there?
(They don’t laugh enough)
SEE WHAT I DID??
(They laugh harder)
Actually, Nick doesn’t want me to tell anyone.
Oh, God, he’s so paranoid. Always has been. Even when I was a lowly actor in his sad little troupe, he was so insecure. Of course, with you as his partner, he has even more reason to be. I’ve read your sonnet.
(He puts a hand on Nigel’s shoulder, nods like “yeah, that’s right, i read in.” Nigel waits for a comment. Shakespeare finds a bit of dust on Nigel’s coat, flicks it off. Nigel is in agony, waiting.)
It’s good. Quite good. I’d love to read more.
(feigining surprise)
Oh—is that your folio?
(He points to Nigel’s leather notebook.
What, this? Oh, this is just—a collection of random lines and thoughts…
Would you like me to give it a looky-loo? What am I saying? Of course you would! I’m Shakespeare!
(takes Nigel’s notebook, reads)
Hmmm. “All the world’s a stage” Good line, that.
Nick
Trust me I have no desire to stay…
(backing into the room)
…I’m just looking for my…
(seeing nigel)
Brother! There you are ! Why the hell are…oh, hello Will.
(Shakespeare hides the notebook behind his back)
Hello, nick. Been a long time.
Or his ideas_ as they’d soon be know.
Ooohhh
Do you bite your thumb at me sir?
(Crowd laugh and lightly applaud)
Really? Quoting Romeo and Juliet? Pathetic.
By my troth, the tartness of his face doth sour the ripened grape.
Oh yeah? Well, by my troth your grap… is stupid.
(Nick instantly winces at what he said, wishing he could take it back.)
Such a clever retort, and you can’t write a hit?
Ooooh…
(More laughter at nick’s expense. He’s fuming.)
No, no, no, no, no, no… we should actually thank this man. He was the one who suggested I take up writing in the first place.
because you’re a shit actor.
Oh no I’m not!
Oh yes you are!
On no I’m not!
On yes you are!
Take it back.
Last changeda year ago