Man’s profound self-identification with the face he wears is reflected in a dozen different cultures, both ancient and modern, where the dead are given masks to help them make their return to earth at the appropriate time. By the same token, to assume a new face is to assume a new personality—the mask imposes its role upon the wearer. But what happens to the wearer of a blank mask? Symbolically, it throws open the whole question of identity. The old self is blotted out and the way left clear for a new to manifest. The blank mask imposes the most challenging role of all, signalling a death and an enigmatic rebirth. Something of this feeling appears in Shakespeare’s handling of the black masquing visor in two early plays, probably written within a year of each other, Love’s Labour’s Lost and Romeo and Juliet. At their very different levels, each play shows the mysterious unfolding of personal destiny, a creative development from which emerges a deeper and more vital self-awareness. And at the beginning of that journey stands the mask.