I walked into the theatre this morning to find Will Kempe sniggering with George on the stage. "What, friends, hath thee found to laugh so?" I asked. Kempe tossed me a playbill for a forthcoming "playe" produced by some rogue named Emmerich to be called "Anonymous." "Was Shakespeare a Fraud?" the bill asked in monstrously inked letters. O Emmerich! Thou hast conspired with that toade Greene to defame my name and my craft! I must away to the publike house to conspire as well! All the while I fume, Kempe capers and laughs. Bah!