‘Yet he’s a magnificent actor.’
‘In certain roles.’
‘I wrote Lord Loveless with him in mind.’
‘And he played it well enough,’ agreed Hame, ‘but I fancy that Giles Randolph could have played it better.’
‘Does he have a gift for comedy?’
‘For comedy, tragedy, history or any combination of the three,’ said Vavasor. ‘More to the point, he knows how to nourish new talent like ours – and like yours, Saul.’
‘I’m already committed to Westfield’s Men.’
‘Only for this play. What of your next?’
‘Lawrence and I are still discussing terms.’
‘Bring them to us before you accept them, and we’ll get a far better offer from Giles Randolph for you. Westfield’s Men are past their best,’ said Vavasor, downing some more wine. ‘Apart from Firethorn, there are only three men of consequence in the company.’
‘Barnaby Gill is one,’ said Hibbert.
‘And that testy Welshman, Owen Elias, another. Close your eyes and he’s Firethorn with a Celtic lilt. They are the only two actors that Banbury’s Men would like to poach.’
‘You spoke of three a moment ago.’
‘Three people – not three actors.’
‘The third person is their book holder,’ said Vavasor. ‘Nicholas Bracewell is the man at the tiller there. He’s steered them safely through every tempest. You must have noticed him.’
‘Oh, yes,’ replied Hibbert, scowling. ‘I noticed him.’
‘Was that your device or his?’
‘What?’
‘I know that he’s wont to arrange their fights and invent clever effects for them. Is that what he did in
The Malevolent Comedy
?’
‘I do not follow you.’
‘During the last act,’ explained Vavasor. ‘When the servant died.’
‘Ah, that.’
‘It was a stroke of genius to have him thresh around and knock over all the furniture as if he were felling so many
trees. The boy looked to be dying in earnest. Tell me, Saul, was that
your
doing?’
‘Yes,’ lied Hibbert. ‘Everything that you saw was mine.’
When she heard his footsteps outside her front door, Anne Hendrik was doubly grateful. She was not only pleased that Nicholas had returned earlier than she had expected that evening, she was relieved that he had not been killed in a duel. Opening the door to him, she received a kiss and took him into the parlour. Nicholas looked weary.
‘A tiring day?’ she asked.
‘Yes,’ he replied, ‘but not without its rewards.’
‘What of your quarrel with Master Hibbert?’
‘Oh, that’s behind me Anne.’
‘Good.’
‘We met to discuss our differences in private and I left him with a dagger through his black heart.’
‘Never!’ she exclaimed. Then she realised that he was teasing her and beat him playfully on the chest with both fists. ‘That was cruel of you, Nick.’
‘I’m sorry,’ he said, embracing her. ‘Forgive me.’
‘Then let’s have no more jests.’
‘As you wish.’
By way of apology, he gave her another kiss. They sat opposite each other and she disposed of her own day in a couple of sentences. Nicholas then told her about the visit to the apothecary in Clerkenwell, and how Simeon Howker’s well-dressed customer had sounded very much like the man who had questioned Leonard at the Queen’s Head. Anne
was more interested to hear about the conversation with Hal Bridger’s mother, reassured by the sign of what she took to be pure maternal affection.
‘I think that it was a mixture of motherhood and Christian duty,’ said Nicholas. ‘I can see where Hal got his bravery from. Only a very brave woman could stand up against Mr Bridger.’
‘Is that what she was doing?’
‘She was expressing grief in her own way, Anne.’
‘A peculiar way to me.’
‘I admired her. Mrs Bridger was sincere enough in her beliefs to tell me to my face that the Queen’s Head was a den of iniquity. It must have rankled that Hal was working so close to home and yet so impossibly far from his parents.’
‘At least, they’ll be reunited now, albeit briefly.’
‘Let’s hope so.’
‘Meanwhile, you have a killer to track down. How can you possibly find him in a city as large as London? There are so many places to hide.’
‘I fancy that we may bring him out into the light.’
‘How?’
‘By performing Master Hibbert’s play again tomorrow.’
‘I thought that
A Way to Content All Women
was advertised.’
‘It’s being set aside, Anne. There’s been such a clamour for the new play that we simply must present it again. That will at least assuage its author and, perhaps, entice along the villain who tried to ruin its first performance.’
‘Do you think he’ll resort to poison again?’
‘We’ll not give him the opportunity.’
‘What makes you think he’ll come back?’
‘Instinct,’ said Nicholas. ‘Having failed to stop us the first time, he’ll want to try again and
The Malevolent Comedy
is his target. Had the company itself been the mark, he might have aimed at us again today but the performance went unmolested. His grudge seems to be against Saul Hibbert’s play. It’s stirred up real malevolence.’
‘What is there in it that could cause such offence?’
‘Nothing in the play itself,’ replied Nicholas. ‘The playwright is another matter.’ He became thoughtful. ‘I wonder if I might ask you a favour, Anne?’
‘Granted before you even put it into words.’
He smiled gratefully. ‘Come to the Queen’s Head tomorrow and watch the play from the gallery. I need a keen pair of eyes in the audience. You can see things from up there which are invisible to me.’
‘Including this Master Hibbert I’ve heard so much about.’
‘Even in a crowd, you’ll have no difficulty picking him out,’ said Nicholas with asperity. ‘He dresses to be seen and lets everyone know that he’s the author. Saul Hibbert is extremely vain.’
‘How unlike Edmund Hoode,’ she commented. ‘He’s modest and unassuming about his plays. How has Edmund taken this change of plan for tomorrow? He wrote
A Way to Content All Women
. Does he mind his work being substituted by another comedy?’
‘He’s bound to, Anne. It must make him feel he’s been
cruelly elbowed aside. Lawrence is showing some sympathy for him at last. To make amends, he’s taking Edmund to supper this evening.
There were five of them at the table. Edmund Hoode sat beside Lawrence Firethorn while Owen Elias was opposite with the two young ladies in their finest attire. They were in a private room at the Queen’s Head and Firethorn was amusing his female guests with anecdotes from his long and tempestuous career as an actor. Bernice and Ursula Opie were sisters, young, bright and nubile. Owen Elias had got to know them during his visits to their house. Linus Opie, their father, was a wealthy mercer with a passion for music and the Welshman had been engaged to appear at his evening concerts on a number of occasions. Neither Opie nor his daughters realised that the man who sang religious songs with such fervour led a private life that would be frowned upon by any church. Elias hoped to maintain the illusion.
Firethorn turned his broadest smile on the two young ladies.
‘Have you ever seen Westfield’s Men perform?’ he asked.
‘Once or twice,’ replied Bernice. ‘Father brought us here for the first time last year. I remember the play well. I loved every second of it.’
‘And so do I,’ said Ursula. ‘It was called
The Faithful Shepherd
.’
‘Then you are sitting opposite the man who wrote it,’ said Firethorn, indicating Hoode. ‘Do you hear that, Edmund? You have two admirers at the table.’
‘Admirers?’ echoed Hoode with a pallid smile. ‘I was beginning to forget that such people ever existed.’
‘There are four of us in this very room,’ said Elias, heartily. ‘Though the two prettiest are sitting opposite you.’
‘I endorse that,’ said Firethorn with a chuckle of approval.
Bernice Opie smiled but Ursula was slightly embarrassed by the compliment. Though they shared a similarity of feature, the sisters were very different to look at. Both had dark hair, a pale complexion and full red lips. Bernice, however, the younger by two years, had a natural beauty while Ursula was undeniably plain. Their demeanour seemed to match their appearance. Bernice was confident, vivacious and aware, whereas her sister was shy, hesitant and solemn. When Ursula did finally speak at length, it was clear that she was the more intelligent of the two, but the attention of the men was lavished on Bernice.
‘You have such a lovely name, Bernice,’ said Firethorn.
‘Thank you,’ she replied.
‘Biblical, I take it?’
‘Bernice was the daughter of Herod Agrippa.’
‘Not to be confused with her great-grandfather, Herod the Great,’ put in Ursula, pedantically. ‘Agrippa sat in judgement on Paul, with Bernice present at the time, and they both treated him with respect and dignity. Bernice is later thought to have married King Ptolemy of Sicily.’
‘And to have been the mistress of the Emperor Titus,’ said Bernice, daringly. ‘She must have been a remarkable woman.’
The men laughed but Ursula had to hide a blush.
‘Bernice is almost as remarkable as her namesake,’ observed Firethorn with a flattering smile. ‘Do you not agree, Edmund?’
‘Yes, yes,’ said Hoode, staring in wonder at her. ‘I do.’
‘Do you intend to marry a king or an emperor, Bernice?’
She gave a brittle laugh. ‘I’d never get to meet either, alas.’
‘You are meeting both at this very moment,’ Elias told her, pointing a finger at Firethorn. ‘In his time, Lawrence has played a host of kings and a dozen different emperors.’
‘I have ruled the world in its entirety,’ said Firethorn.
The next course arrived to interrupt the conversation but it soon resumed. Firethorn and Elias were pleased with the way that things were going. Bernice Opie was angelic yet with a knowing quality that made her even more tempting. Unaware of the fact that she had been brought there to ensnare Edmund Hoode, she enjoyed being the centre of attention and luxuriated in it. Ursula, on the other hand, became more withdrawn but she listened carefully to all that was said. Hoode was as polite as usual, showing an interest in both guests and asking about the concerts organised by their father. Ursula, it transpired, was a talented musician, able to play any keyboard instrument. Bernice was a singer.
Firethorn and Elias were on their best behaviour. Seasoned in the ways of the world, they had both supped with beautiful young ladies in a private room before, always with one object in mind. They were not in pursuit of another conquest this time so they acted with uncharacteristic
restraint, treating their guests with avuncular propriety. Both of them tried hard to bring Hoode to the fore so that Bernice could appreciate his talent and versatility.
‘Edmund is a complete man of the theatre,’ said Firethorn with an arm around his shoulder. ‘Poet, playwright, actor, philosopher and artist. Did you know that Edmund designs the scenery for his plays?’
‘No,’ answered Bernice. ‘How clever of you!’
‘When I write,’ explained Hoode, ‘I see clear pictures in my mind.’
‘And you act a role as well?’
‘If you saw
The Faithful Shepherd
, then you saw me onstage.’
‘I believe that we may have seen you in
The Loyal Subject
as well,’ said Ursula, making a rare contribution. ‘It was a wonderful play.’
‘Also from Edmund’s magical pen,’ said Firethorn.
‘We
must
get father to bring us to another play here, Ursula,’ said her sister, excitedly. ‘Now that we’ve met Master Firethorn and Master Hoode, I cannot wait to see them on the stage again.’ She turned to Elias. ‘What could we see at the Queen’s Head tomorrow?’
‘
The Malevolent Comedy
.’
‘What an intriguing title! One of your plays, Master Hoode?’
‘Not this time, alas,’ said Hoode.
‘We’ll see it nevertheless if we can persuade our father. Oh, it’s been such a lovely evening, hasn’t it, Ursula?’ Her sister gave an obedient nod. ‘We can’t thank you enough for inviting us.’
‘It’s we who are overwhelmed with gratitude,’ said Firethorn.
When the meal was over, a coach came to pick the guests up and the three men waved them off in the street. Hoode was transported. He gazed after the vehicle until it disappeared around a corner, his face aglow, his eyes luminous, his mouth agape. Firethorn nudged Elias and they shared a secret smile.
‘Did you enjoy your meal, Edmund?’ asked Firethorn.
‘It was like supping with a goddess,’ said Hoode.
‘Bernice Opie is truly celestial, is she not?’
‘You feasted your eyes on her all evening,’ noted Elias.
‘And she obviously adored you.’
‘I sing at their house on Sunday. I’ll take you with me, Edmund.’
‘Will you?’ said Hoode, eagerly. ‘I’d love to meet her again.’
‘What man would not?’ asked Firethorn with a sly grin. ‘I think that Bernice Opie is one of the most gorgeous creatures in London.’
‘That may be so, Lawrence, but she was immature and shallow.’
‘I thought you liked her.’
‘I did,’ confirmed Hoode, ‘but it was her sister who really caught my eye. Bernice cannot begin to compare with Ursula.
She’s
my choice.’
Lawrence Firethorn and Owen Elias goggled in astonishment.
The decision to stage
The Malevolent Comedy
on the following day was by no means universally popular. Among the actors, only Firethorn and Barnaby Gill were enthusiastically in support of the idea. Most of the others were still haunted by the tragedy that had occurred at the earlier performance, fearing that something equally disastrous might happen. Edmund Hoode had opposed the notion on the grounds that it was too soon after the death of Hal Bridger but his protests were waved aside. To a company so anxious to increase its takings, a revival of the play was essential. Word-of-mouth would guarantee a full audience and the chance to sell so much refreshment to them might even serve to appease the nagging landlord. Horrified that a murder had taken place in his yard, Marwood was too shrewd a businessman to let emotion get the better of commercial gain.