Will married Anne Hathaway in November, and she came to live in Henley Street. John Shakespeare was pleased that his oldest son was married, but I don't think Will's mother wanted him to marry so young. Families cost a lot of money, and John Shakespeare was having a lot of money troubles in those days. Times were hard in Henley Street.

"Look, Toby, she's got my eyes," he said happily. "She's going to be as beautiful as the Queen of Egypt, and as clever as King Solomon."

"Oh yes?" I said. "All parents talk like that about their children. I don't believe a word of it."

I didn't see much of Will's wife. I knew she didn't like me. To her, I was one of Will's wild friends, who got him into trouble. She came from a very serious, Puritan family. Lots of church-going, and no singing or dancing.

Susanna was born the next May. All babies look the same to me, but Will was very pleased with her.

Soon there was another baby on the way, and one evening in February 1585 I hurried round to Henley Street to hear the news. Will's sister, Joan, opened the door, and then Will came running down the stairs.

"It's two of them!" he said. "Twins! A girl and a boy. Isn't that wonderful!"

Will had some good friends, Hamnet and Judith Sadler, and he called the twins after them. John Shakespeare was very pleased to have his first grandson, and everyone was happy. For a while.

Will and I still went around together when we could. He was still reading, and writing, and soon I could see a change in him. He was twenty-three now, and he was not happy with his life.

The Queen's Men came to Stratford in June, and we went to see the play. I don't remember what it was. I know that I laughed a lot, and that Will said it was a stupid play, with not a word of poetry in it.

"Stratford's too small, Toby," he said. "Too slow. Too quiet. Too boring. I've got to get away."

He didn't answer.

In the summer months companies of players often came to small towns, and in 1587 five different companies came. Will and I always went to see the plays. Will loved to talk to the actors and to listen to all their stories of London

"Yes, but how?" I asked. "You've got a family -- three young children, remember."

"Write a play?" He laughed. "Anne would never speak to me again."

I didn't say anything, and Will looked at me and laughed again.

It happened a few months later. I walked into the Shakespeares' kitchen one evening, and there was Anne, with a red, angry face, shouting at the top of her voice.

"Why don't you write a play yourself?" I told him.

"How can you do this to me? And what about the children --" Then she saw me and stopped.

"Plays!" screamed Anne. "Acting! Actors are dirty, wicked people! They're all thieves and criminals! They drink all day and they never go to church --"

"Don't be stupid, Anne. You know that's not true. Listen. I'll come home when I can, but I must go to London. I can't do anything in Stratford." He looked at me across the room. "Are you coming with me, Toby?"

"How soon can we start?" I said.

Will was sitting at the table, and looked pleased to see me. "I've told Anne," he said quietly, "that I'm going to live in London. I want to be an actor, and to write plays, if I can."