Read Online The Marlowe Conspiracy by M.G. Scarsbrook - Free Book Online
Authors: M.G. Scarsbrook
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less.”
Frizer nodded and kept a wary distance.
Meanwhile, Thomas gazed emptily down the street, watching as Kit finally turned the corner and disappeared from view. Kit already knew too much about his feelings. But this indiscreet relationship with Audrey promised to reveal his marriage as a sham. It threatened his place at court. That could never be allowed to happen. Never.
His eyes found the tailor shop again. He shook his head coldly.
“I expected this from her. Not him.” He sneered and looked at the window as if still seeing the embrace. He muttered under his breath. “The mountebank and the harlot...”
“Sound's like a play,” said Frizer.
Thomas turned on him coldly. Frizer hung his head and shut his mouth.
SCENE ELEVEN
Bankside. The Rose Theatre.
I n the late afternoon bustle of London, Kit strolled down to the river and caught a wherry for the Rose Theatre at Bankside.
The Rose Theater stood on an open patch of dirt once used as a rose garden. Roughly circular in design, like an open flower, the theater blossomed three stories high and outmatched all surrounding buildings with its height and girth. From roots of brick, its frame grew upwards into stalks of black oak timber and white lime plaster. The roof opened to the sky in the style of roman amphitheaters, but a slender thatch of reeds rimmed the very top. Though Henslowe had constructed the theater some time ago, the years had initially been barren for The Rose until Alleyn and The Admiral's Men had pollinated it with their skill and fame. Now the theater was truly full-blown: shows regularly filled the building to capacity – two thousand seats. The Rose may have been London's fifth theater, but it was the first in Bankside, and the very best of its kind anywhere in the kingdom.
With a determined gait, Kit strode up to the front door and barged inside the theater. Right now there should have been a play in progress, but the theater was mostly empty since the plague outbreak had shut all playhouses for the foreseeable future. This meant the Admiral's Men had to tour the provinces when they weren't performing at court. Kit whisked inside to the center of the yard. Sawdust puffed at his feet. The surrounding tiers and balconies reached up and seemed to slant over him. Afternoon sun penetrated the shade of the stands and made a slow-creeping toward the stage.
Though most members of the play company were now in the provinces, some actors had stayed behind to rehearse. Currently on stage stood the figure of Tom Kyd, a lanky, blonde, long-fingered playwright. Next to him were a group of players performing his new work. One player, a young boy, was dressed as a girl while several others posed as a gaggle of monsters. With a horrified expression, the girl knelt before the monsters and begged for her life. An armored man bounded onto stage, metal clunking around his armpits, and stood bravely in between the monsters and the girl.
“By all the powers in heaven,” bellowed the armored man to the monsters, “thou shalt not take this girl.”
Tom peered up from the script in his hand and shook his head.
“No, not like that,” he moaned in his nasal voice.
“Then how?” replied the armored man.
“More conviction.”
“I am trying, you know.”
“Yes, but let the audience truly feel your rebellion. Let them feel it.”
“Alright, alright...”
Kit watched the scene briefly, then passed by the stage and frowned.
“Devil's on stage!” he said caustically. “Good idea – wish I'd thought of it. Oh, wait, I did.”
As if ready for his comment, the players turned and grimaced. The actor dressed as a girl stuck his tongue out. Tom took a moment to register Kit's remark, but soon paced downstage toward him.
“Actually,” said Tom, nostrils flaring, “they're not devils – they're goblins.”
“Goblin's? Is that so?”
“You didn't have that idea, did you?”
“No, you're right, I didn’t.”
“Thank
Frizer nodded and kept a wary distance.
Meanwhile, Thomas gazed emptily down the street, watching as Kit finally turned the corner and disappeared from view. Kit already knew too much about his feelings. But this indiscreet relationship with Audrey promised to reveal his marriage as a sham. It threatened his place at court. That could never be allowed to happen. Never.
His eyes found the tailor shop again. He shook his head coldly.
“I expected this from her. Not him.” He sneered and looked at the window as if still seeing the embrace. He muttered under his breath. “The mountebank and the harlot...”
“Sound's like a play,” said Frizer.
Thomas turned on him coldly. Frizer hung his head and shut his mouth.
SCENE ELEVEN
Bankside. The Rose Theatre.
I n the late afternoon bustle of London, Kit strolled down to the river and caught a wherry for the Rose Theatre at Bankside.
The Rose Theater stood on an open patch of dirt once used as a rose garden. Roughly circular in design, like an open flower, the theater blossomed three stories high and outmatched all surrounding buildings with its height and girth. From roots of brick, its frame grew upwards into stalks of black oak timber and white lime plaster. The roof opened to the sky in the style of roman amphitheaters, but a slender thatch of reeds rimmed the very top. Though Henslowe had constructed the theater some time ago, the years had initially been barren for The Rose until Alleyn and The Admiral's Men had pollinated it with their skill and fame. Now the theater was truly full-blown: shows regularly filled the building to capacity – two thousand seats. The Rose may have been London's fifth theater, but it was the first in Bankside, and the very best of its kind anywhere in the kingdom.
With a determined gait, Kit strode up to the front door and barged inside the theater. Right now there should have been a play in progress, but the theater was mostly empty since the plague outbreak had shut all playhouses for the foreseeable future. This meant the Admiral's Men had to tour the provinces when they weren't performing at court. Kit whisked inside to the center of the yard. Sawdust puffed at his feet. The surrounding tiers and balconies reached up and seemed to slant over him. Afternoon sun penetrated the shade of the stands and made a slow-creeping toward the stage.
Though most members of the play company were now in the provinces, some actors had stayed behind to rehearse. Currently on stage stood the figure of Tom Kyd, a lanky, blonde, long-fingered playwright. Next to him were a group of players performing his new work. One player, a young boy, was dressed as a girl while several others posed as a gaggle of monsters. With a horrified expression, the girl knelt before the monsters and begged for her life. An armored man bounded onto stage, metal clunking around his armpits, and stood bravely in between the monsters and the girl.
“By all the powers in heaven,” bellowed the armored man to the monsters, “thou shalt not take this girl.”
Tom peered up from the script in his hand and shook his head.
“No, not like that,” he moaned in his nasal voice.
“Then how?” replied the armored man.
“More conviction.”
“I am trying, you know.”
“Yes, but let the audience truly feel your rebellion. Let them feel it.”
“Alright, alright...”
Kit watched the scene briefly, then passed by the stage and frowned.
“Devil's on stage!” he said caustically. “Good idea – wish I'd thought of it. Oh, wait, I did.”
As if ready for his comment, the players turned and grimaced. The actor dressed as a girl stuck his tongue out. Tom took a moment to register Kit's remark, but soon paced downstage toward him.
“Actually,” said Tom, nostrils flaring, “they're not devils – they're goblins.”
“Goblin's? Is that so?”
“You didn't have that idea, did you?”
“No, you're right, I didn’t.”
“Thank
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