"Twilight for Anonymous…"
Disclaimer: Not mine but thine...O, Joss!
Archived at the Cicelyverse page of the Buffy Rebecca verse, or direct to story at www...
General audience level...
Summary: In a past life of Buffy and William, a certain story- and scene-stealing vampire gets his much-deserved desserts…
Part VIII…
"So…Then…" dramatic pause, naturally…The speaker being the acknowledged greatest actor of the company and England's greatest, at least by his reckoning and both the company's and his own promotion, star, Richard Burbage, reasonably resplendent in his kingly costume, a matinee idol par excellence, coupled as his mates would reluctantly admit with an outstanding talent, particularly for the challenging roles of their master playwright… "I tell the little piece that I wrote the damned thing for her…"
"She believed you?" a male voice from an actor decked out as Queen of England…
"Well…I asked her, how could I recite it so well if I were not the author, apart, naturally, from my state of inflammation by her beauty…"
"Come now, Dick…" John Hemmings shook head. "She's a bright lass…I don't believe it…"
"You'll believe in about six months, Johnny…" Burbage grinned.
"OOOOHHHH!" howl from the rest of the assembled cast…
"Ah…" Hemmings, good-naturedly chuckling. Looking over to the opening door to see Bella, holding it now for Shakespeare and Jonson entering, she quickly closing… "The man himself…Good evening, Will! Ben!...Come to view the competition…?"
"None that I see here, Johnny…" Jonson called back.
"Come to bring a steadying hand to these amateurs, Will?" Burbage called.
"A hopeless task, Mr. B…" Shakespeare shook head, grinning. "Everyone ready for an evening in verse…?"
"Don't remind me…" Hemmings, mournful tone. "Why you had to do the whole thing like this, I'll never know…"
"It doth go trippingly across thy tongue, Jonathan…" Burbage grinned. "And the ladies see it as refined, for sure…"
"A bit less so this time out…Have you reviewed the revisions I had sent over?" Shakespeare eyed Burbage…
"Aye..." Burbage, a bit more serious now…Several others among the cast likewise eyeing Shakespeare…
"Seems to tighten up the deposition scene a bit…And somewhat less question as to Henry's right in bumping my poor namesake off his seat? Not to mention throwing the meter off…"
"A special commission…I did my level best to rebalance it. You'll have to paper any awkward spots…"
"I've done that often enough, with your stuff…" smile. Then, sober look… "But Will…Given the current situation at Court, isn't this a bit…?"
"Gunpowder, William…" Hemmings cut to the chase. "Are you sure we want to be involved here?"
"We're simply actors doing a play, John…Strictly non-political…And well-fee'd."
"Yet some might take even our accepting such from a fellow under Essex's cloud as a bit suspect…" Hemmings noted. Burbage nodding slightly…
"We don't want trouble, Will…Is there potential?" Burbage, quietly grave. His expression rather enhanced by the ceremonial robes and crown…
"Ole Bess has been a blessing…" the actor in female costume noted. Several nodding… "We've no wish to get caught up in some nonsense…"
"We won't be…" Will put up a hand. "I promise you, our work here is strictly artistic…No one's going to bother about it…"
"Some one bothered about Marlowe back in '93, they say…" Hemmings, coolly.
"We don't know that…Chris was known for brawling when in his cups…" Shakespeare shook his head. "And Walsingham is long dead…"
"But his spirit…Damned be it…Lives on…" Burbage, carefully. "We don't say we won't do it, Will. We just want assurance…"
"You've mine…" Will nodded. "I take on any responsibility, though I swear that there is none to fear. Except that you lot will make damned bad meat of my poor play in front of the gentry…"
"Hopefully not all male…" Burbage grinned. "I brought so many gifts for the ladies…" he posed a bit…
Ducking as a shoe was hurled at him…The first actor in female costume now joined by another young actor in dress, putting wigs on…
"Oh…Mr. Burbage…Do…Do…" they chorused, simpering.
"A whore, a whore…Dick's kingdom for a whore…" Burbage, grabbing at the first actor…
"Ben…?" Hemmings had slideled over to Jonson as Shakespeare urged a few less high spirits. Gentry down the hall…
"What do you think about this business? Are we gettin' in over our heads? I'd like to keep mine, you know…"
"I'm sure Will knows what he's doin', Johnny…" Jonson patted him. "In fact, I've reason to say I doubt this business will do the Court any annoyance…" shrewd look…
"Oh? A new liberal spirit pervading? Or is the ole woman gone and lost it over that pretty boy again?
"Neither…" Jonson kept a low tone, smiling over at the others clustered about Shakespeare who was reviewing the new lines with Burbage…
"…You know full well, Bess never lost her head over any man…Except perhaps old Dudley…"
"The pretty boy's stepdad…Not a mild inducement to look after him…And tolerate his pettier faults…"
"What that fool's done and intends are no petty matters…" Jonson, quietly.
"Then what are we doin' here? Is Will crazy…?" Hemmings hissed.
"You won't suffer for it, John. Will's right there…In fact…The Court might take rather kindly, in a way, to knowing who attended tonight's showing. A clear list of all those supporters among the gentry who listened to his little playlet within Will's play…One more nail in Essex's coffin to charge him. It won't come to hurt you, Johnny. If you keep a clear head and use that fine actor's memory…"
"I'm no informer, Ben…" Hemmings, sternly. "Which sounds rather like your meanin', no offense…"
"No such intended, no offense taken…" Jonson put up a hand. "Just noting a course which should prevent you any trouble…"
"Thankee…" Hemmings frowned.
There'd been rumors about him…Particularly after Marlowe bought it and he seemed to lead a charmed life with the censor. Not to mention that other rumor, after that brawl where some claimed he'd been seen lifeless on the floor, dead as poor Chris…
But then, there were those crazy rumors about Will's Anne and her gaddings about…
"John?" Will called… "Scene…"
"You're on, Johnny…" Ben smiled.
Fool dolt…Would've been glad to spare him for my next work. Thought he might have a brain unlike good ole Burbage, moronically devoted to the man who made him…
Well, perhaps best to clear away the deadwood and start afresh…
"Dickson, thy prayers be answered…" the first actor in queenly gown pulled away from the window from which he'd been staring out to see the arriving guests. "The female persuasion in fair flower…"
Burbage heading over with no little eagerness as Hemmings began his rehearsal with Shakespeare…
"Now there's what makes the artistic profession we labor in worthwhile, boys." he grinned, peering out as several more came to the windows. Noting Frances and her attending maid, Anne, unrecognizable in gown, wig, and powder, emerging from their carriage…Into what was a rather sodden strip of muck by said carriage…
"Perhaps I should do the Sir Walter…" Burbage suggested, pulling kingly robe from shoulders…
"Not in that…" Shakespeare called over, sternly…
…
"Bella?...Guard this with what remains of your miserable life, girl…" DeVere waved Bella over and handed her the packet of the manuscript of "Richard II" Shakespeare had given to him and Essex…
And there it is…The complete copy ready to be recopied in my own hand. And once I master the style a bit, I simply copy from the notes for the actors for the other works and the career of Edward DeVere, England…Europe…Hell, the world's…Greatest playwright…Is underway…
Just have to see the true author meets with a tragic end in the current disaffection and trouble. Leaving the stage clear for me to take his mantle as the greatest playwright of all time to our present day…
And Lord knows, likely long beyond, given his talent…
Pity he won't have a chance to finish a few more…I truly wonder what his genius might have come up with, given a bit more time. Rather wish I could throw him in my private dungeon for a few years and see…
Ah, well…I'd like to keep young Essex twitting about for a few years if I could as well. His silly antics amuse one so…But one can't have everything…
Just Immortality and Immortal Fame…And the delight of a kingdom in chaos…
After all…Much a patriot as I am…And much as England needed stability after Neronic Henry and his feeble son and vengeful religious bigot daughter. It will be a joy to have the old days of paranoia, fear, and mass slaughter back again…
"Lady Frances…" Essex greeted the lovely Frances with a beaming smile. She reciprocating, with curtsy and carefully lowered eyes…
"My Lord Essex…Thank ye for your invitation…"
"I am delighted you accepted, Frances…" Essex held her hand still. "I'd rather thought you might refuse me…Given the lies told about me at Court."
"My lord…Never…" Frances, remaining bowed. Eye to Anne…
Keep down, you idiot…
"…I am always your friend…As is Her Majesty, I hope you know…"
"Of course…" Essex nodded. "Tis only those rascals trying to come betwixt us with their lies who think we can be separated…" he waved for Frances to rise. Taking her hand firmly…Drawing her along, Anne following…
"But does the Queen still befriend me?" he asked, cautiously, in low voice…Leading her into the main hall…
"Oh, without doubt, my lord…" Frances, nodding firmly. "She is ever your friend…"
And would see you to Heaven if Heaven would accept the present, to borrow me Will's line…Anne thought, following.
She is good…I'd best be keepin' an eye on her evermore. Girlfriend of me Watcher or no…
"That is wonderful news, Frances…Thank ye. I must see to our other guests. I trust we will speak again, after the performance…" Essex, kissing held hand gently at the end.
"What?" Frances eyed the slightly frowning Anne as they took seats… "It's how one plays the game at Court…You never burn bridges. Besides, you made me come…"
"I didn't realize the fellow was such a…" Anne, shaking head…
"…But such a pretty one…" Frances grinned. "It almost makes up for it, at least for Her Majesty…"
"He's young enough to be her…"
"And she loves him for his stepfather, Lord Dudley's sake too." Frances shrugged. "But the Queen can't help it if a young girl's heart still beats within. She really is a virgin, you know…"
"You're putting me on…" Anne stared.
"Ma'am…You are talking about our Queen…" Frances, hissing sternly…
"Fran…" a voice, high-pitched…
Uh-oh…Anne pulled herself down…
I know that voice…
"Lord Southampton…" Frances, light smile…
"The most beautiful of all the Lord's Creation…" young Southampton, long-haired, in extravagrant dress with enormous ruffs and long, billowing sleeves, simpered. Taking her hand…
"Tell me…When, my sweet…"
When you can ever manage to get it up…An impossibility I know…Anne thought.
"Only by permission of her Majesty, my lord…" Frances, pulling hand away…
"That will not be a problem, I assure you, Fran…Dear Fran…" Southampton pulling at her hand…
Never thought I'd be so eager to come to a demon's defense…Anne thought. As Frances gently pulling her hand away again…
"Please, my lord…There are so many about us…" Frances, diplomatically.
"Of course…" Southampton nodded, conspiratorial look. "Till later then, dear one…" he grabbed and squeezed hand. Moving off to join Essex and two others in conversation…
"You alright?" Anne hissed.
"Of course…" Frances shook head. "He's the least of my worries, believe me…"
"I believe that…Lucky though he didn't recognize me. We've met when I was visitin' Will in London before…"
"Really? You?" Frances eyed her…
"My husband's done some work for him, he loves Will's stuff. Sonnets and poetry…But we've only met a couple of times, briefly…"
You may have met him, girl. I seriously doubt he's ever minded you…Frances thought, smiling politely.
Unless he's a taste for big-hipped cowmaids. Which in him seems unlikely…
"Southamption…!" Essex was patting him now… "So good you could make it…!"
"I stand ready to die at your side, Robert…" Southampton noted. Fond look…Fonder stroke of hand…
Nope, no chance of that…Frances nodded, watching.
God…Anne stared…
Will did say the fellow's requests in sonnets was a bit unnerving…
