"Grave news, m'lord." The courier held out a scroll with the seal of the city of London. "I'm to wait for a reply."
"Really?" Marlowe -- he still thought of himself as Marlowe even after twenty years of being the celebrated William Shakespeare – took the proffered scroll. "What could possibly interest me in London?"
His face went white as he scanned the contents. "What is it?" asked Roachford. "Bad news?"
"The Globe burned to the ground." Marlow sank back into his seat. "That stupid fool, Grayson! I told him not to use a real cannon during Henry VIII."
"Yes, man! The Globe!"