From the 2017 "
Upstart Crow" Christmas Special Se2Ep13:
Mrs Shakespeare: She's just so, you know, real! Just like one of us! She's the people's queen. I honestly think that if I knew her, we'd be friends.
Shakespeare: Yes, I'm wondering on what evidence you're basing this fantastical analysis on the nature of class and power?
Mrs S: She works bloody hard.
Shakespeare: On being a tyrannical despot?
Mrs S: Well, I wouldn't want the job!
Shakespeare: What? The job of being incredibly rich and all powerful?
Mrs S: Every day she has to keep scowling. She can never let it drop! Whatever she's doing...opening pageants, cutting off heads, murdering the Irish, she's always with a scowl and you never hear her complain.
Shakespeare: Because if she ever did complain, you'd be the first to hear about it, wouldn't you? "Does the Queen ever complain?" "I don't know. Let's ask Anne Shakespeare. She lives in a cottage in Warwickshire. She'd know."
Mrs. S: You can sneer. But I think she's wonderful.
[Knocking. Audience stands]
Robert Greene: Her Majesty. The Queen
Queen Elizabeth I: We live in a wounded and divided country. Ever must we make window into men's souls and oftentimes kill them for what we find there. I have known fear. When a child I was dismissed and despised. I was female. I was Protestant....and I was a....ginge! Now I am queen and it is I who must decide who is to be despised. But it is Christmas and so I say "Good Will to All ... particularly ... gingers!" How are we to proceed this even?
Greene: Your Majesty, the poet Shakespeare is to present his gift prior to the performance of his play. Step forward, poet, with your gift.
QEI: Also, if possible, a receipt of purchase.
Shakespeare: [Stammering] Your Majesty, I can't...It's not...
QEI: Have a care, Mr. Shakespeare. If you do not bring a gift, Christmas custom dictates that you must give your head! Be it ever a most difficult shape to wrap.
[ Mrs. S gives Shakespeare his gift to her of a box of poetry]
Shakespeare: Your Majesty, I do have a gift! Here
[ Greene offers eyeglasses to QEI which she knocks away]
[ QEI puts the paper to her face to read the poems]
QEI: Thank you Master Shakespeare. It is a beautiful gift. Whomsoever you do love is a lucky woman, indeed.
Shakespeare: Majesty, I love thee as do all thy subjects!
QEI: Yes, I know. They have to, when they're not trying to kill me. But love contained within your verses is of a different order. It speaks not of duty nor yet of fear. It is the love felt by one person for just one other. Given freely and unselfishly. Such a love is not for me. For I am married to England. And tho all the nation be my spouse, I am ever the loneliest person in the realm. I thank you, sir, for this little window into love. And now there is to be a play presented, is there not?
Shakespeare: Yes, absolutely, your Majesty! Mr. [Richard] Burbage and his men stand ready to present my sublime new piece, "Eighth Night"
QEI: It's strange, Mr. Greene, it's passing strange my gentlelady did tell she heard the players rehearsing your appalling old chestnut, Backache & Bogey.
Greene: [Friar] Bacon and [Friar] Bungay, ma'am
QEI: Lucky for you the rumor was false. Had I thought for one minute that you'd try to slip your bogey play into my yuletide schedule I would've had everyone involved beheaded!
I am in no mood for comedy this even. Mr. Shakespeare, kindly present your "Eighth Night" another season. I will to my royal chamber there to be alone and read again these poems that speak eloquently of a love I'll never know.
Mrs. S: See? I told you she was burdened down by duty and worry. It ain't no dawdling sky [?] being queen.
QEI: Ere I leave, poet, must I make thee a gift as is the custom. What would you? Money? titles? Speak!
Shakespeare: Your Majesty, not riches or a title. There sits in the tower, the poet, Kit Marlowe, falsely accused of malingering when actually he had a tummy ache.
QEI: I offer you all that men desire, and you would help a friend?
Shakespeare: Well, it is Christmas, after all.
QEI: Yes, Mr. Shakespeare, it is Christmas. [whispers] Mr. Marlowe shall be freed. Now I bid good night to all. I will [hie?] lie me to my lonely chamber there to lie back and think of England.
Shakespeare: [to Greene] Give me my futting necklace now, you thieving bastible. [to Mrs S] Merry Christmas, darling.
Mrs. S: Oh, Will! It's stunning! But I much rather have my poems!
Shakespeare: Don't worry. There's plenty more where those came from.
Mrs. S: Well, husband, it's been a wonderful Christmas.
Shakespeare: Yes, it has. And now it be Twelfth Night. Tomorrow is Plow Monday and work begins again.
Mrs. S: "
Twelfth Night" It's got a lovely ring to it, hasn't it? Bit better than "Eighth Night" if you want my opinion.
Shakespeare: There may be something in what you say. Easy to change since, cleverly, the title has literally nothing to do with the play.
Mrs. S: Shame you never got to see it performed.
Shakespeare: It'll keep. Might shelve it for a few years, anyway. Not sure the world is ready for a non-gender specific trans comedy, yet.
Mrs. S: It will be one day. You're just a bit ahead of your time, that's all. Happy Christmas.
Shakespeare: Happy Christmas. Peace on earth and good will to all men.
Mrs. S: And women
Shakespeare: Of course. And also those who, like my Viola, aren't exactly sure.
And, as an extra bonus, here is Madeline Kahn portraying one of Queen Elizabeth's nemeses, Mary Queen of Scots, on the
Carol Burnett Show:
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