Chapter Eight: In Which There is a Fight and a Revelation
It was two days after Marlowe's service. Will gathered the actors around the stage, for today was the day that he'd finally finished the play. He explained the rest of the plot to the actors, while Margaret and Ellen listened backstage.
"Romeo kills Tybalt, who killed Romeo's good friend Mercutio. Romeo is banished. The friar that married them, that's you, Edward, gives Juliet a potion. It will make her seeming dead. After fourty two hours, she will awake in the Capulet tomb, and Romeo will come to get her." The actors gave satisfied nods of approval.
"I have not said all," Will continued, "The message telling Romeo of the Friar's plan goes astray. He hears only that Juliet is dead. He seeks an apothecary, from whom he buys a deadly poison."
"That's me," Mr. Fennyman said quietly.
"When he arrives at the Capulet tomb, he takes the poison, and he dies by her side. Then, Juliet awakes, and, seeing her true love is dead, takes his knife, and kills herself." There was silence. Finally, Henslowe spoke.
"Well, that will have them rolling in the asiles!"
"I have a blue cap that I think I should use for my part," Fennyman said, "I've seen such a cap on an apothecary." There was another awkward silence. Then Ned spoke.
" 'Twill serve," he said, "But there's a scene missing, between banishment and death." Will smiled.
"So there is, Ned. Thank you."
Later that day, Thomas and Sam were practicing on stage. Ellen and Margaret were backstage putting the finishing touches on the Montague doublets, which were very nearly finished. They were grand things, blue with silver embroidery. The sleeve had a sort of cape at the elbow. Ellen was working on the hem when the door slammed open. The man from Marlowe's service, who was dressed very frivolously, stepped inside. He was wearing a green suit, with a matching hat perched precariously on his head. It bobbed as he walked.
"SHAKESPEARE!" the man shouted.
"Oh no, not again," Ellen muttered.
"What?" Margaret looked up blankly.
"See for yourself," Ellen indicated the house. The cocky man drew his rapier. Will apparently recognized the man as well, apparently, because he drew his as well. The man charged at Will, who fended him off. All the actors standing in the house stepped backwards to give them room. Thomas and Sam, lines all but forgotten, stood on the stage, watching the duel. Thomas, or whatever her name was, had a look of shock written upon her face. Ellen had still not forgotten seeing her at Marlowe's service. She still remembered that Thomas was not Thomas, but a woman.
The fight had moved to the stage. "Out of the way!" shouted Will to Thomas and Sam, who backed off. The stranger knocked the rapier from Will's hand, a look of triumph on his face. Margaret covered her face with her hands. Ellen clutched the curtain nervously. Will pulled out a dagger, and grabbed a prop, a rattle, from the stage. he shook it as he stood. The stranger put his rapier to Will's throat. Will himself continued to back up to the edge of the stage. Then he fell, banging his chin on the stage, and Thomas gasped. The strange man jumped off the stage and stood over Will, who whacked the rapier from his hand and broke it in two, knocking his attacker over with it. He then drew his dagger and held it to the stranger's throat.
"To absent friends," he murmured, and then shouted, "This is the murderer of Kit Marlowe!" Ellen frowned. She had not thought that a nobleman would have had any relations with a playwright. The stranger spoke, nervously.
"I rejoiced in his death because I thought it was yours, that is all I know of Marlowe!" He tried to scuttle over to the door. Ned stepped forward.
"Will, it's true. Kit was killed in a tavern brawl. He got his own knife in the eye. It was over the bill."
"The bill?" Henslowe interjected, "Oh! Vanity, vanity!"
"Not the billing, the bill!" Ned corrected.
"Oh thank God," Will stood up, "I am free of it!" The stranger stood up and backed towards the door, just as the master of the Revels, Mr. Tilney, came in.
"Tilney!" exclaimed the stranger, "Close this theater! Take it down stone by stone, I want to smash it into the ground!" with this, he stormed outside. Tilney came onto the stage. He was followed closely by a little boy, who Ellen recognized as one of the auditioners who hadn't been chosen for the play. All of the actors were onstage now, and Ellen left backstage, Margaret following her. They stood to the side.
"Who's that?" she asked.
"I'll tell you later."
"Well, why's he here?"
"I don't know, Margaret. Be quiet!" Ellen hissed.
"This theater is closed!" Tilney said.
"Why, may I ask, sir?" Mr. Henslowe inquired, nervously.
"For displaying a woman on the public stage!" Tilney walked over to Sam and threw his skirts up over his head. Everyone looked at him strangely. Ned raised an eyebrow. There was a high shriek from Thomas, as though something had been dropped down her back. She rubbed her hands back and forth through her wig to get whatever it was out, and the wig fell off, revealing her long blonde hair.
"Not him," said the ugly little boy, "Her!" he pointed at Thomas. Tilney turned a very bright shade of red before saying,
"That's who I meant." He stormed off the stage. "Notice will be posted!" he added. Ellen bit her lip. She knew the second she'd seen the woman at Marlowe's service that the charade of Thomas Kent was not going to last long. Everyone looked at Thomas in disbelief. It was at this time that Mr. Fennyman chose to make his appearance.
"Everything all right?" he asked, and then saw Thomas. "Oh." Ned glanced at Henslowe.
"Ned, I swear, I knew nothing of this," Henslowe said, in an effort to keep him from doing something impulsive.
"Nobody knew," Thomas said.
"He knew," the ugly boy said. Ellen groaned. Hadn't he left yet? But the boy was not finished speaking.
"I saw him, kissin' her!" Everyone looked at Will, who glared at the little boy. Ellen felt like throttling the little urchin.
"I'm so sorry, Mr. Henslowe," Thomas apologized. "I'm so sorry, Will." she looked around, and left. As she left, Ned took his copy of the play and ripped it up, throwing it in Will's face.
"Come on," Ellen tugged at Margaret's sleeve, "We've got some costumes to clean up."
"You said you'd tell me who that man was," Margaret said, grabbing a dress and taking it to the costume room.
"It hardly matters now, does it?" Ellen snapped, "The play's over! Done with!"
"You mean it won't be preformed?"
"That's right, brainy one. The theater's been closed, therefore there will be no play."
"Then there's no need for me?"
"If you feel that way, then I would guess so," Ellen said angrily.
"Then I suppose I'll leave," Margaret sighed. Ellen gritted her teeth.
"Did this mean nothing to you?" she asked, "Did nothing here interest you whatsoever?"
"No, not really," Margaret sighed again.
"What about Ned? You liked him so much." Ellen folded a doublet.
"I suppose I liked him, for a while," Margaret said absentmindedly.
"You talked of nothing else,"
"Did I? Ah well."
"Look, has something happened to you?"
"My father announced to me this morning that he was marrying me off to a cloth merchant in Dover."
"Dover? Just so sudden? Just like that?" Ellen asked, drop-jawed.
"I had met the man a couple of times, but Father mentioned nothing of marriage until this morning."
"When do you leave?"
"I marry two weeks from Sunday."
"So you're quitting? Just like that?"
"I have to," Margaret handed Ellen her spool of thread and her needle. "It's been wonderful working here, but I'm not needed anymore. Goodbye, Ellen," she said. Ellen shook her hand.
"Goodbye, Margaret."
Ellen folded the last tunic and left the costume room. The actors were saying their goodbyes to the theater. It would have been the first ever preformance that some of them had ever had. Ellen sniffed. Sure, she would always have a job here, but this had been a special job. So many things had happened. The show would have been wonderful.
It was two days after Marlowe's service. Will gathered the actors around the stage, for today was the day that he'd finally finished the play. He explained the rest of the plot to the actors, while Margaret and Ellen listened backstage.
"Romeo kills Tybalt, who killed Romeo's good friend Mercutio. Romeo is banished. The friar that married them, that's you, Edward, gives Juliet a potion. It will make her seeming dead. After fourty two hours, she will awake in the Capulet tomb, and Romeo will come to get her." The actors gave satisfied nods of approval.
"I have not said all," Will continued, "The message telling Romeo of the Friar's plan goes astray. He hears only that Juliet is dead. He seeks an apothecary, from whom he buys a deadly poison."
"That's me," Mr. Fennyman said quietly.
"When he arrives at the Capulet tomb, he takes the poison, and he dies by her side. Then, Juliet awakes, and, seeing her true love is dead, takes his knife, and kills herself." There was silence. Finally, Henslowe spoke.
"Well, that will have them rolling in the asiles!"
"I have a blue cap that I think I should use for my part," Fennyman said, "I've seen such a cap on an apothecary." There was another awkward silence. Then Ned spoke.
" 'Twill serve," he said, "But there's a scene missing, between banishment and death." Will smiled.
"So there is, Ned. Thank you."
Later that day, Thomas and Sam were practicing on stage. Ellen and Margaret were backstage putting the finishing touches on the Montague doublets, which were very nearly finished. They were grand things, blue with silver embroidery. The sleeve had a sort of cape at the elbow. Ellen was working on the hem when the door slammed open. The man from Marlowe's service, who was dressed very frivolously, stepped inside. He was wearing a green suit, with a matching hat perched precariously on his head. It bobbed as he walked.
"SHAKESPEARE!" the man shouted.
"Oh no, not again," Ellen muttered.
"What?" Margaret looked up blankly.
"See for yourself," Ellen indicated the house. The cocky man drew his rapier. Will apparently recognized the man as well, apparently, because he drew his as well. The man charged at Will, who fended him off. All the actors standing in the house stepped backwards to give them room. Thomas and Sam, lines all but forgotten, stood on the stage, watching the duel. Thomas, or whatever her name was, had a look of shock written upon her face. Ellen had still not forgotten seeing her at Marlowe's service. She still remembered that Thomas was not Thomas, but a woman.
The fight had moved to the stage. "Out of the way!" shouted Will to Thomas and Sam, who backed off. The stranger knocked the rapier from Will's hand, a look of triumph on his face. Margaret covered her face with her hands. Ellen clutched the curtain nervously. Will pulled out a dagger, and grabbed a prop, a rattle, from the stage. he shook it as he stood. The stranger put his rapier to Will's throat. Will himself continued to back up to the edge of the stage. Then he fell, banging his chin on the stage, and Thomas gasped. The strange man jumped off the stage and stood over Will, who whacked the rapier from his hand and broke it in two, knocking his attacker over with it. He then drew his dagger and held it to the stranger's throat.
"To absent friends," he murmured, and then shouted, "This is the murderer of Kit Marlowe!" Ellen frowned. She had not thought that a nobleman would have had any relations with a playwright. The stranger spoke, nervously.
"I rejoiced in his death because I thought it was yours, that is all I know of Marlowe!" He tried to scuttle over to the door. Ned stepped forward.
"Will, it's true. Kit was killed in a tavern brawl. He got his own knife in the eye. It was over the bill."
"The bill?" Henslowe interjected, "Oh! Vanity, vanity!"
"Not the billing, the bill!" Ned corrected.
"Oh thank God," Will stood up, "I am free of it!" The stranger stood up and backed towards the door, just as the master of the Revels, Mr. Tilney, came in.
"Tilney!" exclaimed the stranger, "Close this theater! Take it down stone by stone, I want to smash it into the ground!" with this, he stormed outside. Tilney came onto the stage. He was followed closely by a little boy, who Ellen recognized as one of the auditioners who hadn't been chosen for the play. All of the actors were onstage now, and Ellen left backstage, Margaret following her. They stood to the side.
"Who's that?" she asked.
"I'll tell you later."
"Well, why's he here?"
"I don't know, Margaret. Be quiet!" Ellen hissed.
"This theater is closed!" Tilney said.
"Why, may I ask, sir?" Mr. Henslowe inquired, nervously.
"For displaying a woman on the public stage!" Tilney walked over to Sam and threw his skirts up over his head. Everyone looked at him strangely. Ned raised an eyebrow. There was a high shriek from Thomas, as though something had been dropped down her back. She rubbed her hands back and forth through her wig to get whatever it was out, and the wig fell off, revealing her long blonde hair.
"Not him," said the ugly little boy, "Her!" he pointed at Thomas. Tilney turned a very bright shade of red before saying,
"That's who I meant." He stormed off the stage. "Notice will be posted!" he added. Ellen bit her lip. She knew the second she'd seen the woman at Marlowe's service that the charade of Thomas Kent was not going to last long. Everyone looked at Thomas in disbelief. It was at this time that Mr. Fennyman chose to make his appearance.
"Everything all right?" he asked, and then saw Thomas. "Oh." Ned glanced at Henslowe.
"Ned, I swear, I knew nothing of this," Henslowe said, in an effort to keep him from doing something impulsive.
"Nobody knew," Thomas said.
"He knew," the ugly boy said. Ellen groaned. Hadn't he left yet? But the boy was not finished speaking.
"I saw him, kissin' her!" Everyone looked at Will, who glared at the little boy. Ellen felt like throttling the little urchin.
"I'm so sorry, Mr. Henslowe," Thomas apologized. "I'm so sorry, Will." she looked around, and left. As she left, Ned took his copy of the play and ripped it up, throwing it in Will's face.
"Come on," Ellen tugged at Margaret's sleeve, "We've got some costumes to clean up."
"You said you'd tell me who that man was," Margaret said, grabbing a dress and taking it to the costume room.
"It hardly matters now, does it?" Ellen snapped, "The play's over! Done with!"
"You mean it won't be preformed?"
"That's right, brainy one. The theater's been closed, therefore there will be no play."
"Then there's no need for me?"
"If you feel that way, then I would guess so," Ellen said angrily.
"Then I suppose I'll leave," Margaret sighed. Ellen gritted her teeth.
"Did this mean nothing to you?" she asked, "Did nothing here interest you whatsoever?"
"No, not really," Margaret sighed again.
"What about Ned? You liked him so much." Ellen folded a doublet.
"I suppose I liked him, for a while," Margaret said absentmindedly.
"You talked of nothing else,"
"Did I? Ah well."
"Look, has something happened to you?"
"My father announced to me this morning that he was marrying me off to a cloth merchant in Dover."
"Dover? Just so sudden? Just like that?" Ellen asked, drop-jawed.
"I had met the man a couple of times, but Father mentioned nothing of marriage until this morning."
"When do you leave?"
"I marry two weeks from Sunday."
"So you're quitting? Just like that?"
"I have to," Margaret handed Ellen her spool of thread and her needle. "It's been wonderful working here, but I'm not needed anymore. Goodbye, Ellen," she said. Ellen shook her hand.
"Goodbye, Margaret."
Ellen folded the last tunic and left the costume room. The actors were saying their goodbyes to the theater. It would have been the first ever preformance that some of them had ever had. Ellen sniffed. Sure, she would always have a job here, but this had been a special job. So many things had happened. The show would have been wonderful.