10 Back to Stratford 
　  
　　‘You're losing your hair，Will，’I said to him one day． 
　　‘We're both getting old，Toby，’he said．‘There's no escape from it．Old and tired．’ 
　　‘Don't talk like that，’I said．‘You're only forty-seven．There's still some life in you yet．And another twenty plays！’ 
　　‘No，’he said slowly．‘No，I think the poetry is nearly finished．I'm getting tired，Toby．I need a rest．I think The Tempest is going to be my last play．I'm saying goodbye to the stage．Times are changing，and people want a different kind of play now．There are lots of new，younger writers，who know how to please the playgoer．I'm not modern any more． 
　　He never usually talked like this，and I didn't like it． 
　　‘There's only one Will Shakespeare，’I said，‘and he'll always be modern．Now，I must get on．I've got to go out and buy all the cloth for the new costumes in The Tempest．Why did you have to put it on an island？When the ship goes down，the actors all have to come on stage in wet clothes．It takes a day to dry the costumes，so that means two lots of clothes for everyone—wet and dry！’ 
　　That brought him back to life．‘Can't you read？’he said crossly．‘If you look at Gonzalo's words in Act 2，Toby，you'll see that it's a magic island一and their clothes stay dry all the time．So they'll only need one lot．’ 
　　I laughed，and then he laughed too． 
　　But it was true，he was tried．I could see it，and others could see it too．But the company was always wanting new plays，and we had two theatres now．There was the Globe，and now we had the Blackfriars theatre．Plays in the Globe were in the open air and always had to be in daylight，but the Blackfriars was a building with a roof．We could put on plays in the evenings and in any weather．It also made more money，because every playgoer had a seat and paid a shilling for it．In the Globe they paid a penny to stand． 
　　In February 1612 Will's brother Gilbert died in London，and just a year later his brother Richard died in Stratford．That was in February，too．Will was the oldest brother，and he was the only one still alive．We spent most of our time in Stratford these days．Will didn't act in plays now．He went to rehearsals for his new plays，of course，but he was always happy to hurry home again． 
　　We were riding back to Stratford in the spring of 1613 and Stopped for the night at the Crown Inn in Oxford．Will was very friendly with the landlord John Davenant and his wife Jane．The next morning，when we left，their little son，William，came running out to say goodbye to his good friend Mr Shakespeare．He was a bright boy，about seven years old，with much the same colour hair and eyes as Will．Will talked with him for a few minutes，then gave him a penny． 
　　Later，when we were riding along the road，I said，‘The last time we were in Oxford，I heard some talk in the town．Someone said that you were the father of Jane Davenant's son． 
　　Will laughed，‘Well，well，’he said，‘People say that，do they？What will they say next？’ 
　　‘Jane's a nice-looking woman．’I looked at him out of the corner of my eye．‘Isn't she？’ 
　　‘Come on，Toby．You know that Jane is a good wife to John．’He was still smiling．‘You mustn't listen to stories like that．’ 
　　I never believed that story myself．But many years after Will died，William Davenant told a lot of people that he was Shakespeare's son．But how did he know？His mother wouldn't tell him！ 
　　Will was happy to get home，to see his daughters and John Hall，and little Elizabeth，who was just five then．He was happy to see Anne，I think．He never said much to her，nor she to him．But after more than thirty years together，you've already said everything，haven't you？ 
　　I think Judith was Will's favourite daughter．Susanna was brighter and cleverer，but Judith was Hamnet's twin，and Will still remembered his son．He wanted a son，or a grandson，so much．Judith was twenty-eight now，and still no husband．But Will told her not to hurry．She must find the right man first． 
　　Will worked hard all his life，and I think it was all for his family．I remember some lines from his play The Tempest，when Prospero is talking to his daughter Miranda． 
　　I have done nothing but in care of thee， 
Of thee，my dear one，thee my daughter… 
10 退居斯特拉福镇 
　  
　　“威尔，你掉头发啦。”一天，我对他说道。 
　　“我们俩都老了，托比，”他说，“谁也躲避不了，又老又不中用了。” 
　　“别这么说，”我说，“你才47岁，日子还长着呢，还可以再写20部戏剧！” 
　　“难啦，”他缓缓说道，“难啦，我发觉自己已是江郎才尽，我也感觉累了，托比。我需要休息。我想《暴风雨》将是我最后一部戏剧。我要和舞台告别啦。时代在变化，人们现在需要看些不同风格的戏剧。更何况纷纷涌现出一批年轻的新剧作家，他们懂得如何博得观众的欢心。我再也跟不上时代了。” 
　　他从来不曾这样说过，我也不爱听。 
　　“世上只有一位威廉·莎士比亚，”我说，“他永远属于这个时代。好啦，该干活了，我得出去购置《暴风雨》一剧新服装的布料。你为什么要将故事发生在一个荒岛上呢？轮船下沉后，演员们只能穿着湿漉漉的衣服回到舞台。衣服要花一天的时间才能晒干，这就意味着每人都得准备两套衣服——一件湿衣服和一件干衣服。” 
　　这番话使他又恢复了生机。“你看不懂吗？”他忿忿地说，“托比，你若是看了第二幕贡柴罗那段话，你会觉得那是一座魔岛——他们的衣服一直是干的，所以只需准备一套衣服。” 
　　我笑了，跟着他也笑了。 
　　事实的确这样，他累了。我看得出来，别人也看得出来。不过，剧团总需要新剧上演，况且我们现在有两个剧院；“环球剧院”和“黑修士剧院”。“环球剧院”是露天剧院，戏剧通常只能白天演。“黑修士剧院”是有盖顶的剧院，戏剧可以在晚上以及随便什么天气上演，钱也赚得更多，因为每个观众花一先令可以有一个座位，但在“环球剧院”，观众花一便士要站着看。 
　　1612年2月，威尔的弟弟吉尔伯特死于伦敦。一年后，也在2月份，他弟弟理查死于斯特拉福镇。威尔是家中的长子，而今孑然一身于世上。这些日子，我们多半呆在斯特拉福镇。威尔不再上台演戏，不过他肯定赶去看新剧本的预演，然后，兴致勃勃地赶回家。 
　　1613年春，我们骑马回斯特拉福镇，途中在牛津的“皇冠客栈”寄宿。威尔对房东约翰·达文南特和他妻子简非常友善。第二天早要离开时，他们的小儿子威廉跑出来向他的好朋友莎士比亚先生告别。这小孩聪明伶俐，大约7岁，发色和眼睛酷似威尔。威尔和他聊了几分钟，然后送给他一便士作纪念。 
　　当我们策马上路之后，我说道，我们上次在牛津时，我在镇上听到一些闲话。有人说你是简·达文南特儿子的父亲。” 
　　威尔大笑。“是吗，是吗，”他说，“人们这么说的，是吗？他们还会说什么呢？” 
　　“简长得美丽动人，”我用眼角看看他，“不是吗？” 
　　“好啦，托比。简是约翰的贤妻，你知道的。”他仍然微笑着。“你千万不能听信谣言。” 
　　我才不会相信。但威尔死后的许多年后，威廉·达文南特却告诉许多人，他是莎士比亚的儿子。他又怎么知道的呢？他母亲绝不会告诉他。 
　　威尔很高兴回家看望女儿和女婿约翰·豪尔以及才5岁的小伊丽莎白。我想他也高兴见到安。他从没对她多说几句话，她也一样。但是30多年的相处，该说的早已说过，不是吗？ 
　　我觉得威尔最宠爱珠迪丝，尽管苏姗娜更聪明伶俐，但是珠迪丝是哈姆奈特的孪生妹妹，威尔仍在怀念爱子，他太想有个儿子或外孙了。珠迪丝现在28岁尚未婚嫁，但威尔劝她不必急，首先得找到中意的人。 
　　威尔一生勤奋工作，我想，这全都是为了这个家。我还记得在《暴风雨》一剧中，普洛斯彼罗对女儿米兰达讲的那几句话： 
　　凡我所做的事，无非是为你打算， 
　　为了你，我的宝贝，我的女儿…… 
　　　    


 