Shakespeare in Love

INT. THE ROSE THEATRE. DAY.

SKY. Over which a title "LONDON--SUMMER 1593" appears.

Title card:
In the glory days of the Elizabethan theatre

two playhouses were fighting it out for writers and

audiences. North of the city was the Curtain Theatre,

home to England's most famous actor, Richard Burbage.

Across the river was the competition, built by Philip

Henslowe, a business with a cash flow problem...

...The Rose...

Gradually a building is revealed, The Rose Theatre, three-

tiered, open to the elements and empty. On the floor,

roughly printed, a poster--torn, soiled, out of date. It

says:

SEPT. 7TH & 8TH AT NOON

MR. EDWARD ALLEYN AND THE ADMIRAL'S MEN AT THE ROSE

THEATRE, BANKSIDE

THE LAMENTABLE TRAGEDIE OF THE MONEYLENDER REVENG'D

OVER THIS the screams of a man under torture. The screams

are coming from the curtained stage.

VOICE (O.S.)

You Mongrel! Why do you howl When it

is I who am bitten?

INT. THE ROSE THEATRE. STAGE. DAY.

The theatre owner, PHILLIP HENSLOWE, is the man

screaming. HENSLOWE'S boots are on fire. He is pinioned

in a chair, with his feet stuck out over the hot colas of

a fire burning in a brazier. He is being held in that

position by LAMBERT, who is a thug employed by FENNYMAN,

who is the owner of the VOICE. The fourth man, FREES, is

FENNYMAN'S bookkeeper.

FENNYMAN:

What am I, Mr. Lambert?

LAMBERT:

Bitten, Mr. Fennyman.

FENNYMAN:

How badly bitten, Mr. Frees?

FREES:

Twelve pounds, one shilling and four

pence, Mr. Fennyman, including

interest.

HENSLOWE:

Aaagh! I can pay you!

FENNYMAN:

When?

HENSLOWE:

Two weeks, three at the most, Aaaagh!

For pity's sake.

FENNYMAN:

Take his feet out. Where will you get

FREES:

(the mathematical genius with

a notebook)

Sixteen pounds, five shillings and

nine pence

FENNYMAN:

including interest in three weeks?

HENSLOWE:

I have a wonderful new play!

FENNYMAN:

Put his feet in.

HENSLOWE:

It's a comedy.

FENNYMAN:

Cut his nose off.

HENSLOWE:

A new comedy. By Will Shakespeare!

FENNYMAN:

And his ears.

HENSLOWE:

And a share. We will be partners, Mr.

Fennyman!

FENNYMAN:

(hesitating)

Partners!

HENSLOWE:

It's a crowd-tickler--mistaken

identities, a shipwreck, a pirate

king, a bit with a dog, and love

triumphant.

LAMBERT:

I think I've seen it. I didn't like

it.

HENSLOWE:

This time it is by Shakespeare.

FENNYMAN:

What's the title?

HENSLOWE:

Romeo and Ethel the Pirate's Daughter.

FENNYMAN:

Good title.

FENNYMAN snaps his fingers at FREES and LAMBERT. LAMBERT

unties HENSLOWE, FREES starts writing a contract.

FENNYMAN (CONT'D)

A play takes time. Find actors…

rehearsals…let's say open in three

weeks. That's--what--five hundred

groundlings at tuppence each, in

addition four hundred groundlings

tuppence each, in addition four

hundred backsides at three pence--a

penny extra for a cushion, call it two

hundred cushions, say two performance

for safety how much is that Mr. Frees?

FREES:

Twenty pounds to the penny, Mr.

Fennyman.

FENNYMAN:

Correct!

HENSLOWE:

But I have to pay the actors and the

authors.

FENNYMAN:

A share of the profits.

HENSLOWE:

There's never any

FENNYMAN:

Of course not!

HENSLOWE:

(impressed)

Mr. Fennyman, I think you may have hit

on something.

FENNYMAN slaps a contract down on the table next to n ink-

pot and quill.

FENNYMAN:

Sign here.

HENSLOWE takes the quill and signs.

FENNYMAN (CONT'D)

Romeo and Ethel The Pirate's

Daughter…Almost finished?

HENSLOWE:

Without doubt he is completing it at

this very moment.

INT. WILL'S ROOM. DAY

A small cramped space in the eaves of a building. A

cluttered shelf containing various objects, wedged

between crumpled pieces of paper. Among those we have

time to observe:
a skull, a mug that says A PRESENT FROM

STRATFORD-UPON-AVON.

At infrequent intervals further pieces of crumpled paper

are tossed towards the shelf. The man who is throwing

them, WILL SHAKESPEARE, is bent over a table, writing

studiously with a quill.

Now we see what he is writing: Will is practising his

signature, over and over again. "Will Shagsbeard…W

Shakspur…William Shasper…" Each time he is dissatisfied,

and each time he crumples, and tosses it away.

Suddenly WILL becomes impatient. He jumps up and goes to

the loft area in the rafters, where he sleeps, and starts

to pull on his boots. At this point the door opens and

HENSLOWE walks in. He is out of breath and his feet hurt.

HENSLOWE:

Will! Where is my play? Tell me you

have it nearly done! Tell me you have

it started.

(desperately)

You have begun?

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