Chapter Four

Will sat on a bench in the balcony at the Globe Theater, awaiting the arrival of George Darkins, the boy he had asked to come audition to play a shrewish wife in his new play. He was the only person in London who might have talent and who would actually sound like a girl instead of a cheap street-dweller looking for money. But apparently George had either forgotten or had decided that he would rather not act for him.

Will sighed and stood up. It was hopeless. If only Viola were still here in London, she could play Kat for him. She would be brilliant at it, and Will wouldn't have the problem of trying to find an actor. But Viola was in Virginia with her awful husband. He shuddered at the thought, pitying his lover.

"Excuse me?" came a voice from the stage. "I'm here for Mr. William Shakespeare."

Will had begun to daydream, and so hadn't noticed when George had walked onto the stage and had looked around for him. In shock, he noticed that the boy was turning to leave, apparently finding no one at the theater.

"I'm here, George!" Will called loudly, hoping the boy would hear. He did. George turned and smiled at Will.

"I thought you'd forgotten about me sir. That or you were trying to avoid me, having actually thought about your offer and seen how silly it was of you to offer me a position in your play."

Will laughed.

"Don't be silly, boy, I have no one else. So either one of those ideas wouldn't be possible. I sorely need you. And if what Christian says is true, and you have some talent, then I would be glad if you could be in some more of my plays. I always need someone to play the girls."

George grinned and bowed proudly. It was an elegant bow, one which even Will had trouble reproducing, and so had never fully learned it. But he was impressed, and clapped loudly, the sound resonating in the empty theater.

"What can you act for me now, boy?" Will asked in a kind, slightly mocking tone. He was slightly skeptical of the boy's ability to act, but kept it as much to himself as possible. This boy was the only field open to him right now, and more than anything else, he wanted his play to be seen by the masses.

"I would like to act out a scene from Romeo and Juliet. I will be playing Juliet, since I would be a girl in your plays," George said, his voice slightly nervous but loud. Will noted with satisfaction that he could hear the boy's voice perfectly well from up in the balcony. He might actually have some talent after all.

George then recited a scene which Will had not heard spoken aloud since the day when Viola had stepped in and had played Juliet for him. He breathed in sharply, and closed his eyes tight, fighting the memories. Oh, how he missed Viola! She had been the only true joy he had ever known, and he wished that it had not been a temporary joy. Oh, how fleeting their love had been! How short! He sighed, and tried to listen to George's words. But he found that he could not, for he kept trying to block out the words, to forget George's voice, and to imagine that it was Viola, not George, speaking them. It was impossible. He could not imagine Viola, and he could not completely block out George. It was a painful experience. But he nonetheless gave George a standing ovation at the end of his recitation.

"Bravo, my young sir! You will be my Katherine! The public will love you, and you will be a huge star! In any case, sir, it is my lunch-hour, and I wish to eat something. Perhaps you should do the same. But be back here at the theater in two hours, for the rehearsal. I'm sure that Richard will be very pleased to know how easily I found an actor for him," Will mused aloud. George bowed, and started to make his way out of the theater.

"Sir," he said, turning. "If it would be alright with you, I would like to get your signature. You see, I have a friend who is a big fan of your work."

Will smiled. The last person he had known who had truly loved his work to the point of passion was Viola. Perhaps he and George might get along rather well. His actions kept reminding him of his lost love. He did not like to dwell in the past, but it was pleasant. And perhaps he could form some sort of friendship with this child, who seemed so tormented. Perhaps he could even act as a father. He had never been fond of children, indeed, had once cursed them, but now, looking upon George, so sweet and innocent-looking, he could not help but feel pity for the poor child and want to help him. Yes, perhaps George was a new opportunity for him, just as Viola had been. He could feel the beginning of a new age in his life unfolding.

"Yes, I would be pleased to give you my signature. But I will only give it after the rehearsal, so see to it that you come. I would hate to lose my main actor. You see, without Katherine, there would be no play."

The two smiled at each other, and George disappeared backstage. Will shook his head, and began to climb down the narrow stairwell which led to the main floor of the theater. It was noon, he was hungry, and he had several pence which Richard had given him as compensation for having actually helped in the search for an actor. The nearby alehouse would be a pleasant refuge.