I wandered from the church up a few steep streets, thinking I would find the entrance to the gardens. For the second time, I found myself at some kind of retreat
In my search I came across an antique store. The guy brought out a book to sell me, Shakespeare's King Lear with a depiction of Richard Burbage. Volume 150 (of a set) and published in Scotland, it was previously owned by one Winifred Warrington. The cover page has a quote from Milton, "A good book is the precious life-blood of a master spirit." It has a brief history of the author, with the usual "probably was," "it has been suggested that" and "may have." Some authors have said the time was so long ago, yet the history, say of Walter Ralegh, who lived at the same time is very robust.
Worked my way around and found the entrance, which was just a few doors from the pizzeria where I picked up my dinner last night!
I loved this garden, which Goethe visited in the late 1700s. It had by then been in place for two hundred years. When the mazes grow up in coming months, they will be really fun. Even though they were only waist high, I still spent time working my way to and from the entrance.
I started the dialogue for the Marlowe play while putzing around.
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