I belong to a Shakespeare group. Not a troupe, a group, which meets now and again to read through the plays with a minimum of analysis or histrionics and a maximum of snacks and fine beverages. We’ve been together for years and have been through all the plays at least twice and most thrice. But we were still all a little surprised at a recent meeting, when Shakespeare himself showed up. It was unquestionably him—the rounded forehead an... Full Story