...because the visitors at the Tabard Inn were numerous, and I brew excellent Ale! You can believe me.

— An unusual performance, don't you think - the professors slowly moved toward the exit from the hall, — tell me colleague, did anything bother you? — asked Wilson, looking intently at his friend.
— Bother me? Even more than that, — Professor Brown answered in confusion, — I am simply at a loss. You see, my friend, I can't shake the feeling that Shakespeare himself was on stage! The real one! And this transformation into the past, and everything somehow very natural. And what do you say? — he asked carefully.

— So I'm not crazy, — the professor sighed in relief, — and I wasn't the only one who felt it. The exact same feeling. Just some kind of magic! And most importantly, — he shook his head, looked closely at Brown and quietly said, — listen, my friend! I have been studying Shakespeare all my life and only now have I realized that I don't know him at all, neither as a person nor as a playwright! Oh, madam!

— Wilson turned to the woman who pushed him, — please, be careful.
— We need to look up information about the Inn, — ignoring the professor, the lady hissed to her companion, — John, do you hear? Somewhere there must be information about the guests of this "Tabard". How did we miss this? Knowing nothing about this inn! We must be the first, do you hear John, — the first!
— Yes, I don't know what the owner of this Inn was called, — the imposing man said irritably, — alright Gloria, I understand, — he let the woman go ahead, — tomorrow I will go to the archive and look.

— Did you hear, my friend, — and Wilson pointed to the man, — what our learned men are saying? He will look! And do you know, professor, — he sighed sadly, — how geniuses differ from ordinary people, even such learned ones as you and I? I know this for sure now. While we spend years searching for sensational nonsense, wiping our pants on the chairs of archives and libraries, a genius does not waste time in vain, — and smiled sadly, — he brews "Ale"!
— Yes, — Brown nodded his head, — he brews! In the backyard and according to his own recipe.

Reference. William Shakespeare died on April 23, 1616, and is buried in the chancel of the Holy Trinity Church in his hometown of Stratford. The gravestone is engraved with Shakespeare's own epitaph:
"Good friend for Jesus sake forbeare,
To dig the dust enclosed here.
Blessed be the man that spares these stones,
And cursed be he that moves my bones."
The cause of death is still unknown. There are many theories, but the most likely is an outbreak of typhus in 1616 (described in a chronicle of those years as a "new fever"). Even syphilis was suggested, because, according to the testimony of some contemporary: "there is a rash, an aching in the bones, and ulcers - this is associated with vice, lustfulness, and debauchery". During excavations, 24 smoking pipes were found in the playwright's garden, and upon examination, traces of marijuana or hashish were found on almost all of them. And this is not surprising, because in Shakespeare's time hemp was grown everywhere.

Shakespeare's Will:
……. "I bequeath to my daughter Judith 150 pounds in current English money…….
….. To my daughter Susanna Hall all real estate with all rights to the farm and all its lands in Stratford-upon-Avon.
….. To my wife I bequeath my second best bed with all the furniture belonging to it…"

Not a single Shakespearean manuscript has survived, only printed editions of his works. There is a theory that all handwritten plays were kept in the Globe Theatre, where Shakespeare worked, and were used by the actors for their performances. On June 29, 1613, during a performance of Shakespeare's play "Henry VIII", a spark from a stage cannon shot hit the thatched roof over the stage, and the theater burned to the ground. All manuscripts were destroyed.

From Shakespeare's conversation with the Messire (see above):
"…. I had books with the stories of the guests of the 'Tabard', which accumulated over those, as you called them, 'lost years' and this 'archive' is still with me. I will tell you a secret, I keep it in the drawer of the bed on which my wife sleeps"…
So maybe this "second best bed" was the most valuable thing in the playwright's will? (At least, for future generations!!)
"All the world's a stage, and all the men and women merely players"! William Shakespeare.

Reference. "Capro due - Capro fue!" Do not try to translate this strange phrase into human language, which was given to me by the wisest friend of our family, David Isaakovich Parnes, who unfortunately recently left this world. He got it from his father, who got it from his grandfather. The beauty of this expression is that it can be used in conversation when discussing any topic and it will always be appropriate. In this case: "Capro due - Capro fue!" means: "If you don't know how to do it - cast doubt on it!"
A bunch of various literary critics, literary scholars, biographers, and other scholar-ologists (I just invented this word), for more than 400 years have been "washing the bones" of this unfortunate playwright (although, in his posthumous epitaph, he asked not to move his bones) and cannot find an answer to the question: "Was it him or not him?" (just like Hamlet) who wrote these brilliant works. Well, even if, for example, he wrote them himself, then maybe he had co-authors, well at least someone, well at least something! Well, they really want to find something! The soul asks for a sensation! Any arguments go into action here - perhaps he was illiterate, and loved money, and they didn't find his manuscripts (which means there weren't any)..., well, and so on, in short "Capro due - Capro fue"....
And he, whose "bones are being washed", is not alone. Oh, how scholar-ologists (I liked this word) love to look for compromising evidence on famous ancestors and cast doubt on their greatness. Here, for example, Caravaggio, an artist of the Renaissance era! Experts found out that in his work he used a "Camera Obscura!" Aha, the scholar-ologists shouted, that's how it is, after all: "Capro due - Capro fue!", which means here: "He used it himself - he fooled everyone!" Now everything is clear to us! And what is clear? You make such a "Camera Obscura" at home, as Caravaggio had, and try to paint at least some masterpiece. Let's see what you get.
By the way, I want to immediately confess that I write my "works" in co-authorship with the Internet (this is not a last name, but such a program. And I write it with a capital letter, because it is very smart). This is, just in case, I give information to descendants, what if, they in the future will explore my "imperishable" creativity. Although, this is unlikely!
Returning to the long-suffering William. Scholar-ologists (well, a cool word) calculated that our, you understand, Shakespeare, enriched the English language with new words - from 1700 to 3000. I do not understand why this causes such delight and admiration among linguists. Also me a sensation. Every new generation enriches its language with such a number of new words that parents often simply do not understand what language their children speak. I am sure every reader has encountered this.
And the main thing. I do not know whether Shakespeare was the author of his imperishable works, or he wrote them in co-authorship, or maybe these are the works of other writers, but they are known under his name and the brand "William Shakespeare" is known to everyone. So, I give advice to citizens: "Capro due - Capro fue", which means "Read, enjoy - do not show off!"
Here I lie with my co-author the Internet (you know who that is), "smartly reflecting" and catch myself thinking: "What would I ask Shakespeare if I met him?" Probably... probably... I would ask: Listen, William, you are a specialist in English Ale. And how do you feel about Czech beer? I would invite him to the nearest brewery, fortunately, they are at every step in the Czech Republic, well, and then, how it goes! After all, "Capro due - Capro fue", which means "Talk to a smart person - you will find a treasure" (I just invented this).
Genius!