Exit, pursued by a bear

This is my favourite stage direction in Shakespeare - perhaps the best ever because it doesn't give the producer any help at all. It's from The Winter's Tale, one of Bill's stranger, most dream-like and proverbial plays, written near the end of his career - packed with deeply subversive musings on justice, blood and love. It's drawn from a Robert Greene novella, which is a bit cheeky, given that Greene had this to say about our hero many years earlier:

There is an upstart Crow, beautiful in our feathers, that, with his tiger's heart wrapt in a player's hide, supposes he is as well able to bombast out a blank verse as the best of you, and, being an absolute Johannes Factotum, is, in his own conceit, the only Shakescene in the country. Oh, that I might entreat your rare wits to be employed in more profitable courses, and let these apes imitate your past excellence, and never more acquaint them with your admired inventions.