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Authors: Margaret Frazer
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playmaster’s decision—not in that tone of voice at any rate.
“So if you’ll give your script to Master Joliffe,” Sendell went on, “and if Master Burbage will give you his, and here, Joliffe, is Ane’s part.”
The exchanges were made while Sendell went on, “Master Powet, I take it this is your nephew who may do for our Christ,” nodding toward the boy wiggling on the bench beside Powet.
“Christ help us, yes,” Powet said and gave the boy a light shove with an elbow. “Sit still, Dick.”
Dick gave another wiggle but then tried to sit still, grinning first at his uncle, then around at everyone else. If it were granted that Christ might be slightly gap-toothed and very ragged-haired, Joliffe saw the boy might serve the part. Of course there would be the long Christ-wig to cover the hair and did Christ smile all that much? What mattered more was what manner of voice he had and if he could use it well, but Sendell put off such revelation as lay that way by saying, “You’re welcome to our company, Dick. We’ll see how you do when we come to your part. First, though, we’re going to read through again from the beginning, now we have everyone. Ned and Hew, have you tried your singing together?”
“Already?” protested the young man who must be Ned.
With a patience that Joliffe did not remember in him years ago, Sendell said, “We’ve not that much time until Corpus Christi. You want to be better than only good by then. You want to be as fine as may be. We’ll work together on it when we’ve finished reading through today. For now, just sing as best you can when we come to those parts. Master Joliffe, begin when you’re ready.”
Glad he had had chance to see this much of the script anyway, Joliffe began to read, pitching his voice to almost play-level, to be heard a wide way and the words very clear but holding back from the strength and excitement Sendell had talked of for the part. That could wait until he knew the part better and everyone was more familiar with him.
Great astronomers, now awake,
With your famous fathers of philosophy,
And to the Orient your heed take,
Where news and strange sights be come of late.
From the corner of his eye, he saw Sendell nod approval.
Chapter 6
O n the whole the practice went well enough. richard Eme, reciting the Second Prophet as if he were a particularly pompous Lord Mayor of London, would be simplicity itself to play off of. Joliffe’s change from Prophet into the prophetess Ane should be no trouble: he would have the Second Prophet’s long closing speech and Simeon’s longer opening one to throw the Prophet’s robe off, leaving him in a woman’s gown worn underneath, and only a woman’s cap, wimple, and veil to put on. Ane’s own speeches were few and mostly brief, unlike Simeon’s, so it was to the good that the man doing Simeon proved to have a deep voice that he used gravely, suitable to an aged priest of the Temple promised by God that he would not die until he had seen the Messiah. He sang his Nunc Dimittis—“Now dismiss your servant, Lord, according to your word in peace . . .”—already well-learned and from the heart.
The two angels—Ned and Hew—were a mixed bag at best. Ned spoke clearly and with suitable angelic dignity and grace, but Hew sounded as if he was not sure what words were for. Sendell would have to work with him.
The slender youth playing Mary was somewhat too soft of voice, but he at least seemed to understand the meaning of the words he was saying.
Richard Eme as one of the doctors who talked with the young Christ in the Temple played it the same as when he was a prophet. Joliffe had expected that, knowing Richard Eme’s kind of playing. Any part someone like Eme was given he would make to his own size, changing the world to match himself, rather than taking on the challenge of changing himself to match the world, even the brief world of a play.
To the thankful good, both Master Burbage and
“So if you’ll give your script to Master Joliffe,” Sendell went on, “and if Master Burbage will give you his, and here, Joliffe, is Ane’s part.”
The exchanges were made while Sendell went on, “Master Powet, I take it this is your nephew who may do for our Christ,” nodding toward the boy wiggling on the bench beside Powet.
“Christ help us, yes,” Powet said and gave the boy a light shove with an elbow. “Sit still, Dick.”
Dick gave another wiggle but then tried to sit still, grinning first at his uncle, then around at everyone else. If it were granted that Christ might be slightly gap-toothed and very ragged-haired, Joliffe saw the boy might serve the part. Of course there would be the long Christ-wig to cover the hair and did Christ smile all that much? What mattered more was what manner of voice he had and if he could use it well, but Sendell put off such revelation as lay that way by saying, “You’re welcome to our company, Dick. We’ll see how you do when we come to your part. First, though, we’re going to read through again from the beginning, now we have everyone. Ned and Hew, have you tried your singing together?”
“Already?” protested the young man who must be Ned.
With a patience that Joliffe did not remember in him years ago, Sendell said, “We’ve not that much time until Corpus Christi. You want to be better than only good by then. You want to be as fine as may be. We’ll work together on it when we’ve finished reading through today. For now, just sing as best you can when we come to those parts. Master Joliffe, begin when you’re ready.”
Glad he had had chance to see this much of the script anyway, Joliffe began to read, pitching his voice to almost play-level, to be heard a wide way and the words very clear but holding back from the strength and excitement Sendell had talked of for the part. That could wait until he knew the part better and everyone was more familiar with him.
Great astronomers, now awake,
With your famous fathers of philosophy,
And to the Orient your heed take,
Where news and strange sights be come of late.
From the corner of his eye, he saw Sendell nod approval.
Chapter 6
O n the whole the practice went well enough. richard Eme, reciting the Second Prophet as if he were a particularly pompous Lord Mayor of London, would be simplicity itself to play off of. Joliffe’s change from Prophet into the prophetess Ane should be no trouble: he would have the Second Prophet’s long closing speech and Simeon’s longer opening one to throw the Prophet’s robe off, leaving him in a woman’s gown worn underneath, and only a woman’s cap, wimple, and veil to put on. Ane’s own speeches were few and mostly brief, unlike Simeon’s, so it was to the good that the man doing Simeon proved to have a deep voice that he used gravely, suitable to an aged priest of the Temple promised by God that he would not die until he had seen the Messiah. He sang his Nunc Dimittis—“Now dismiss your servant, Lord, according to your word in peace . . .”—already well-learned and from the heart.
The two angels—Ned and Hew—were a mixed bag at best. Ned spoke clearly and with suitable angelic dignity and grace, but Hew sounded as if he was not sure what words were for. Sendell would have to work with him.
The slender youth playing Mary was somewhat too soft of voice, but he at least seemed to understand the meaning of the words he was saying.
Richard Eme as one of the doctors who talked with the young Christ in the Temple played it the same as when he was a prophet. Joliffe had expected that, knowing Richard Eme’s kind of playing. Any part someone like Eme was given he would make to his own size, changing the world to match himself, rather than taking on the challenge of changing himself to match the world, even the brief world of a play.
To the thankful good, both Master Burbage and
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