‘Thank you, Lawrence,’ he said, touched. ‘I have never had a play savaged by the Master of the Revels before and I was deeply wounded. To have it performed in Denmark would be a balm to my injuries.’ He turned to the book holder. ‘What’s your opinion, Nick?’
‘I think it’s a fine play,’ said Nicholas. ‘One of your best.’
‘It’s settled then,’ declared Firethorn, tossing the manuscript onto the table. ‘That’s one problem solved.’
‘I disagree, Lawrence.’
‘I thought you liked the play.’
‘I admire it greatly,’ said Nicholas, ‘but it is hardly a suitable choice for a wedding. Lord Westfield will expect laughter and gaiety. We cannot celebrate the occasion with a tragedy.’
Hoode nodded. ‘Nick makes a telling point.’
‘Then we play Sir Thomas More elsewhere,’ said Firethorn, determined not to be deprived of the chance to create a superb new role. ‘They’ll have a comedy for the wedding and a tragedy at some other venue in Denmark.’
‘I’m sorry to challenge you again, Lawrence,’ said Nicholas, ‘but I have to question the wisdom of that decision.’
‘Why?’
‘Because the name of Sir Thomas will mean little to a Danish audience. He may live fresh in our memory but they have their own heroes and men of integrity. But there is an even stronger argument against the play,’ Nicholas went on. ‘It was rejected in its present form and there was a good reason for that.’
‘Yes,’ said Firethorn with a scowl. ‘Sir Edmund Tilney does not appreciate the talent of Edmund Hoode. Our celebrated Master of the Revels sliced the play wide open.’
‘Only because he thought it politic to do so. And you malign him unjustly. He’s an admirer of Edmund’s work and has never turned one of his plays away before. What alarmed him was the coincidence.’
‘What coincidence, Nick?’
‘I can tell you that,’ interjected Hoode. ‘At the time when Sir Thomas was under-sheriff of London, there was great unrest over the number of foreigners in the capital. It’s dealt with in three separate scenes. Unhappily,’ he said with a grimace, ‘the same hatred of strangers had been whipped into a frenzy again.’
‘Look what happened to Anne and Preben yesterday,’ resumed Nicholas. ‘They learnt just how much resentment is felt against foreigners. Without intending to do so, certain scenes in Edmund’s play might excite that resentment even more.’
‘Perish the thought!’ said Hoode.
‘Such objections could not be raised in Denmark,’ argued Firethorn. ‘We would hardly arouse enmity against strangers there.’
‘No,’ conceded Nicholas, ‘but we would show England in a very poor light. Remember this — whenever we perform, our patron and his bride will be in the audience. No play will endear itself to the new Lady Westfield if it portrays this city as a cauldron of hatred and intolerance.’
‘Sir Thomas More is a history play.’
‘History has a nasty habit of repeating itself, Lawrence, as in the case of our present troubles. Denmark will not be unaware of those. Among the strangers here,’ Nicholas pointed out, ‘we have Danes as well. Their letters home are bound to talk of the outrages against foreigners.’
‘Nick has persuaded me,’ said Hoode. ‘My play is withdrawn.’
Firethorn raised a palm. ‘Not so fast, Edmund. I’ll not yield up a wonderful role so easily. To make it more acceptable,’ he said, ‘all that we have to do is to remove the scenes that deal with strangers.’
‘In other words, we ape what Sir Edmund Tilney did.’
‘He tore the play apart. We will merely amend it.’
‘It amounts to the same thing. If the play is not performed in its entirety, then it will not take to the stage at all. No more argument,’ said Hoode as Firethorn tried to speak. ‘I’ll not be party to anything that might cause embarrassment to Lord Westfield and his bride.’ The doorbell was rung hard. ‘That will be Barnaby. I’m glad that we discussed Sir Thomas More before he arrived. He disliked the play.’
‘Only because he had such a minor role,’ said Nicholas.
‘Yes,’ said Firethorn, ‘the only scenes he bothered to read were those in which the clown appeared. It was ever thus. He judges the quality of a play by the number of lines he has and the number of comic jigs he’s allowed to dance.’
Moments later, Margery showed the latest arrival into the room before disappearing again. There was a flurry of greetings then Gill took a seat. He distributed a warning glance among the others.
‘I hope that you’ve not been rash enough to make any decisions without me,’ he said, ‘because I shall countermand them all.’
‘Three votes will always count against your one,’ said Firethorn.
‘I only see two sharers in the room.’
‘Nick’s opinion has more weight than anyone else’s.’
‘Even when he is nothing more than a hired man?’
‘Stop harping on that, Barnaby,’ said Hoode wearily. ‘Nick has already stopped us from taking one unsuitable offering to Denmark and he’ll do so again. Nobody knows our stock of plays better than he, and what costumes, scenery and properties are needed for each one. Since we can only carry a limited amount of baggage, such details need to be taken into account.’ Margery entered with a bottle of wine and four glasses on a tray. ‘We’ll put it to the test.’
‘You come on cue, my love,’ said Firethorn, massaging her buttock as she put the tray on the table. ‘Of the four of us, who is the best judge of a play?’
‘Nick Bracewell,’ she replied promptly.
‘And the finest actor?’
‘Do not fish for compliments, Lawrence,’ she said, pouring the wine out and handing the glasses around. ‘When you are in the same company, you do not compete. You act with each other.’
Hoode smiled his approval. ‘Well-said, Margery.’
‘Every team needs a leader,’ Firethorn commented.
‘He leads best who does not have to impose his will upon others,’ she said, handing a drink to her husband before moving away. ‘Bear that in mind, Lawrence.’
‘Heed your wife,’ Gill advised. ‘Margery spies your weakness.’
‘She spied yours at a glance,’ riposted Firethorn.
‘I did not come here to be abused.’
‘Then refrain from inviting it.’
‘I’m here to make important decisions.’
‘And so is Nick — let that be understood.’
‘It’s not only the choice of plays that must exercise us,’ said Nicholas. ‘There is the far trickier problem of selecting those who act in them. Lord Westfield has kindly volunteered to pay for our passage to Denmark but his bounty ends there. To defray expenses, we must travel with a smaller company and that will mean shedding several of our hired men.’
‘We must take musicians,’ insisted Firethorn. ‘They will expect songs and dances from us.’
Gill preened himself. ‘And especially from me,’ he boasted.
‘There’s not room for everyone,’ said Hoode solemnly.
‘Alas, no,’ agreed Nicholas. ‘Instead of musicians, we must have actors who can play an instrument. Their other skills should also be taken into account before we come to a decision.’
‘Other skills?’ said Firethorn.
‘Oswald Megson once worked as a carpenter. He will be sorely needed to make new scenery or repair anything that gets damaged. Harold Stoddard was apprenticed to a tailor. He must be both actor and tireman. As for David Knell-’
‘Oh, no!’ protested Gill. ‘I draw the line at him — anyone but David Knell. His face is so mournful that it makes me feel unwell. When he smiles, it is like a grave opening up. Forget him, Nicholas. Whoever else comes with us, we do not take Death Knell.’
‘No,’ said Firethorn, disheartened at the prospect before him, ‘we simply sound it for those we have to set aside. Very well — let us be fair but firm. As well as the sharers, who else comes to Denmark?’
‘How do things stand, my lord?’ asked Rolfe Harling.