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combed over its ears. Shakespeare or whoever it was smiled broadly.
    The whole thing puzzled Ben. It was bizarre. He’d never met a playwright before.
    â€˜I haven’t a clue what’s going on,’ muttered Ben aloud.
    â€˜Hardly surprising, my dear fellow, considering your level of incomprehension,’ replied the figure.
    â€˜What?’ exclaimed Ben, hovering between anger and confusion.
    â€œ
As you like it
,” replied the figure.
    â€˜Like what?’ asked Ben, feeling definitely confused.
    â€˜Nothing, nothing,’ said the figure dismissively, the back of its hand touching its forehead momentarily. ‘Wasted,’ moaned the figure. ‘Utterly wasted.’
    â€˜Shakespeare?’ enquired Ben, eager to steer the conversation towards something he could understand. The figure bowed its head.
    â€˜At your service sir,’ he quipped.
    Ben scratched the tip of his nose.
    â€˜Weird,’ he said to himself.
    Shakespeare sniffed haughtily.
    â€˜Completely normal, I assure you my good man. And, if I might make so bold, you are not entirely without a certain strangeness yourself,’ he sniffed again. ‘You seem to be of the opinion that…’
    Ben interrupted what seemed to be the start of a long monologue.
    â€˜Where am I?’ asked Ben. ‘What am I supposed to find here?’
    Shakespeare frowned.
    â€˜I am not accustomed to interacting with my audience in such a manner,’ he replied. ‘Tis I who normally pose the questions.’
    Having said that, Shakespeare adopted a theatrical pose, with one arm extended towards Ben, while the other rested on his hip.
    â€œ
To be, or not to be
,” intoned Shakespeare. “
That
,” he glared at Ben, “
is the question.”
    â€˜I know, yeah, yeah’ sighed Ben heavily. He too adopted a theatrical pose, with one hand on his waist and the other waving small circles in the air. “
Alas, poor Yorick. I knew him well
” and all that.’
    Shakespeare’s face began to turn a violent shade of red.
    â€˜No, no, no,’ he fumed. ‘Those are not the words that did flow from my noble hand. You should have said
“Alas, poor Yorick! I knew him, Horatio, a fellow of infinite jest, of most excellent fancy …”
and so on,’ quoted Shakespeare.
    It was Ben’s turn to frown.
    â€˜Was Hamlet supposed to be at the Battle of Trafalgar then?’ he asked, slightly puzzled.
    Shakespeare blew angrily through his nostrils.
    â€œThe questions of the ill-educated are as the life of a May fly, seemingly important one day, but forgotten the next.”
    Ben wrinkled his nose.
    â€˜Whatever,’ he shrugged. ‘I suppose,
“It’s all Greek to me”
anyway.’
    Shakespeare’s mouth gaped open. He spluttered, coughed and pointed a finger angrily at Ben.
    â€˜Misquote!’ he yelled. ‘After all the care and dedication… Despite the anger in Shakespeare’s voice, Ben found himself ignoring the playwright’s words and looking around to see what to do next.
    Shakespeare flushed angrily.
    â€˜I am not accustomed to being so rudely ignored,’ he snapped.
    Ben shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly.
    â€˜Whatever,’ he replied again. ‘Do you have something for me or should I explore another room?’
    Shakespeare closed his eyes and breathed deeply.
“Come what come may, time and the hour runs through the roughest day,”
he replied and, before Ben could make any comment, he continued. ‘Macbeth, for your information,’ he turned to face the fire. ‘Though no doubt you will forget that before the day is out,’ he muttered to himself.
    Ben leaned forward, his eyes busily scanned Shakespeare’s face.
    â€˜That’s it?’ asked Ben, with a frown beginning to form. ‘Nothing more?’
    Shakespeare nodded.
“And it is great. To do that thing that ends all other deeds,