Excerpts from the book

"...I could not understand this man. He gave me the impression that he wanted to own you. He wanted your soul. He would not give you a chance to make your mind up, he made it for you. One minute he would be warm, the next he was cold. As I say, like the Medusa. He would turn you to stone with one look. I laid on my truckle bed. I could not get his face from my mind. I could see that cold look in his eyes. Maybe there is some warmth there I know not of. He was a man that one would say his countenance haunted you, and his voice. Once you made contact with him you felt that his presence never left you. And then I drifted into sleep..."

"...I was trying to write and he said: “You know, Henslowe will be wanting a play.” And I couldn’t write, I couldn’t think. My mind was on this beautiful youth. He was so, so goddess-like, too beautiful to be a man.
Eventually I went to bed, but I couldn’t sleep, tossed and turned all night. I was restless, sat up in my bed and thought I must get to know this young man. But he avoided me. I felt at first that maybe he was shy and that I needed to wait. But I didn’t want to wait too long. I didn’t want someone else to take away this paragon of beauty from me. Will kept saying, “Oh don’t worry, Give him time.” And Robin Poley… Actually he ruined it because in a way he could be a roguish knave in that way, he kept saying, “Oh, if you conquer him, if you bed him, I’ll bet you so much.” But it wasn’t me who made the bet, it was him. And he went and told Peter that it was me..."