After his death William Shakespeare was laid to rest in the chancel of Holy Trinity, a large, lovely church beside the Avon. As we might by now expect, his life concludes with a mystery—indeed, with a small series of them. His gravestone bears no name, but merely a curious piece of doggerel: Good friend, for Jesus’ sake forbeare, To digg the dust encloased heare. Bleste be the man that spares thes stones And curst be he that moves my bones.
