??Will’s dead now, of course. He’s been dead more than thirty years, and no one sees his plays now.
The Puritans have closed all the theatres. There’s no singing, no dancing, no play.
It wasn’t like that in my young days. We had a good time in London, Will and I …
I’ve no teeth now, and my hair has all fallen out, but I can still think-and remember.
I remember when Will and I were young, just boys really…
It was a sunny day in October 1576 when I first me Will, just outside Stratford, near a big field of apple trees.
I saw a boy up in one of the trees. He had red hair and looked about two years older than me.
‘What are you doing up there?’ I called.
‘Just getting a few apples,’ he said, smiling.
‘Those are Farmer Nash’s apples,’ I said, ‘and he’ll send his dogs after you if he sees you.’
‘Mr Nash has gone to market.’ The boy said. ‘Come on! They’re good apples.’
The next minute I was up the tree with him. But Will was wrong.
Farmer Nash wasn’t at the market, and a few minutes later we saw his angry red face above the wall on the far side of the field.