Author: Simon Reade

Cites

• John Lyly (1)
  • IN: Dear Mr Shakespeare (2009) Fiction, British
    EPIGRAPH: If we present a mingle-mangle, our fault is to be excused, because the whole world is become a hedgepodge.
    FROM: Midas, (1589), Play, UK
• Marc and Stoppard, Tom Norman (1)
  • IN: Dear Mr Shakespeare (2009) Fiction, British
    EPIGRAPH: WILL: I love your early work. 'Was this the fact that launched a thousand ships / And burnt the topless towers of Ilium?" MARLOWE: I have a new one nearly done, and better. The Massacre At Paris. WILL: Good title. MARLOWE: And yours? WILL: Romeo and Ethel the Pirate's Daughter. (Beat, signs despondently.) Yes, I know. MARLOWE: What is the story? WILL: Well, there's a pirate... (Confesses) In truth, I have not written a word. MARLOWE: Romeo is...Italian. Always in and out of love. WILL: Yes, that's good. Until he meets... MARLOWE: Ethel. WIL: Do you think? MARLOWE: The daughter of his enemy. WILL: (Thoughtfully.) The daughter of his enemy. MARLOWE: His best friend is killed in a duel by Ethel's brother or something. His name is Mercutio. WILL: Mercutio...good name.
    FROM: Shakespeare in Love, (1998), Play, UK
• Ken Ludwig (1)
  • IN: Dear Mr Shakespeare (2009) Fiction, British
    EPIGRAPH: JACK WARNER: This Shakespeare stuff ain't bad. I read some this morning and there are parts in English. SAM WARNER: It's poison, Jackie. HARRY WARNER: We'll lose a fortune. SAM WARNER: Ya know the title ain't so bad/. 'Shakespeare.' Sounds like a biopic. JACK WARNER: It ain't called 'Shakespeare!' ALRBERT WARNER: Sam, it's called 'A Midsummer Night's Dream.' SAM WARNER: Well that'll put us right in the crapper. ALBERT WARNER: Maybe we should get a rewrite man. HARRY WARNER: Mankiewitz is good. ALBERT WARNER: Or Morrison. SAM WARNER: Or pay this guy Shakespeare to do it. ALRBERT WARNER: He's dead, you idiot. SAM WARNER: Then he'll cost us peanuts.
    FROM: Shakespeare in Hollywood, (2004), Play, US
• William Shakespeare (1)
  • IN: Dear Mr Shakespeare (2009) Fiction, British
    EPIGRAPH: How will this fadge?
    FROM: Twelfth Night, (1623), Play, UK