Read Online The Merchant of Vengeance by Simon Hawke - Free Book Online
Authors: Simon Hawke
Tags: Fiction, General, Historical, Thrillers, Mystery & Detective, Theater, Actors, Great Britain, Dramatists, Smythe; Symington (Fictitious Character)
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She was raised a Jew, and at heart she had always remained a Jew. Nor did my father ever try to force her to be otherwise. She was always circumspect in her belief, for she always knew that there were many who would condemn her for her faith. And who am I to judge her? She is my mother. But woe that I was ever born her son!"
"Oh, but that is a bitter thing to say about a parent," Smythe replied.
"Aye, truly, and ashamed am I to speak. thus," Thomas said, hanging his head. Then he looked up again, with anguish in his eyes. "But what am I to do? I love Portia with all my heart! She is my world, my life, my breath! I cannot bear the thought of losing her, of never being allowed to see or speak with her again! If you had ever been in love, then you would understand my desperate plight!"
"I understand, perhaps better than you know," Smythe replied, thinking of Elizabeth. "But what does your Portia say to this?"
"I do not know," said Thomas, hanging his head and running his fingers through his hair, clutching at his thick locks in exasperation. "I have not spoken with her since her father banished me from his house and from her sight."
"Well," said Smythe, "'twould seem, then, that you must contrive a way to see her, and discover where her heart stands, with her duty to her father or her love for you."
"I am certain that her heart shall be with me," said Thomas, "but her obedience must perforce be to her father."
"Must it?" Smythe asked.
Shakespeare glanced at him, raising his eyebrows with surprise, but saying nothing.
"What do you mean?" asked Thomas. "How could it be otherwise?"
"If you truly cannot bear to lose her, and if she is, indeed, your world, your life, your breath, then methinks that you must take the measure of her love," said Smythe.
"Speak then, and tell me how," said Thomas, looking up at him intently.
"You must find a way to see her so that you can ask her how she truly feels," said Smythe. "If she truly loves you as you believe she does, as you say you love her, and if your love for one another is truly as great and all-encompassing as you believe, why then, you could elope and make your way to some place where you could live your lives together, as you wish, without hindrance from her father."
"You are right!" said Thomas, banging his fist upon the table. "You give sound counsel, friend! That is just what I shall do!"
"Well now, wait, Thomas," Dickens said, glancing at Smythe and taking Thomas by the arm as he got quickly to his feet. "Stay a moment and do not act too rashly. Before your passion drives you to take a course you may regret, consider that you have now nearly completed your apprenticeship. And what is more, your work has begun to attract favourable notice here in London. One year more and you shall become a journeyman, and you shall be well on your way to making a good life for yourself."
"But what good would any of that be without the woman that I love?" asked Thomas.
"What good would having the woman that you love be without having the means to properly provide for her?" Dickens countered. "And that is something that Portia should consider, also. 'Tis always best to think with your head and not your heart."
"That is a simple enough thing for you to say, Ben," said Thomas, "for you have married the woman that you loved. Your happiness is now assured, and you may think of other things. But I can think. of nothing else but Portia and how I cannot bear to go another day without her!" He turned to Smythe. "Thank you, my friend, for your good counsel and your understanding. I shall do as you advise. And if her love for me is true, as I believe her love to be, then we together shall determine what our course must be!"
He clapped Smythe on the shoulders and hurried out the door. Shakespeare sighed. "The course of true love never did run smooth," he muttered, "for love is blind and lovers cannot see."
"What?" said Smythe. "Why do you look upon me so, Ben, with such a February face, so
"Oh, but that is a bitter thing to say about a parent," Smythe replied.
"Aye, truly, and ashamed am I to speak. thus," Thomas said, hanging his head. Then he looked up again, with anguish in his eyes. "But what am I to do? I love Portia with all my heart! She is my world, my life, my breath! I cannot bear the thought of losing her, of never being allowed to see or speak with her again! If you had ever been in love, then you would understand my desperate plight!"
"I understand, perhaps better than you know," Smythe replied, thinking of Elizabeth. "But what does your Portia say to this?"
"I do not know," said Thomas, hanging his head and running his fingers through his hair, clutching at his thick locks in exasperation. "I have not spoken with her since her father banished me from his house and from her sight."
"Well," said Smythe, "'twould seem, then, that you must contrive a way to see her, and discover where her heart stands, with her duty to her father or her love for you."
"I am certain that her heart shall be with me," said Thomas, "but her obedience must perforce be to her father."
"Must it?" Smythe asked.
Shakespeare glanced at him, raising his eyebrows with surprise, but saying nothing.
"What do you mean?" asked Thomas. "How could it be otherwise?"
"If you truly cannot bear to lose her, and if she is, indeed, your world, your life, your breath, then methinks that you must take the measure of her love," said Smythe.
"Speak then, and tell me how," said Thomas, looking up at him intently.
"You must find a way to see her so that you can ask her how she truly feels," said Smythe. "If she truly loves you as you believe she does, as you say you love her, and if your love for one another is truly as great and all-encompassing as you believe, why then, you could elope and make your way to some place where you could live your lives together, as you wish, without hindrance from her father."
"You are right!" said Thomas, banging his fist upon the table. "You give sound counsel, friend! That is just what I shall do!"
"Well now, wait, Thomas," Dickens said, glancing at Smythe and taking Thomas by the arm as he got quickly to his feet. "Stay a moment and do not act too rashly. Before your passion drives you to take a course you may regret, consider that you have now nearly completed your apprenticeship. And what is more, your work has begun to attract favourable notice here in London. One year more and you shall become a journeyman, and you shall be well on your way to making a good life for yourself."
"But what good would any of that be without the woman that I love?" asked Thomas.
"What good would having the woman that you love be without having the means to properly provide for her?" Dickens countered. "And that is something that Portia should consider, also. 'Tis always best to think with your head and not your heart."
"That is a simple enough thing for you to say, Ben," said Thomas, "for you have married the woman that you loved. Your happiness is now assured, and you may think of other things. But I can think. of nothing else but Portia and how I cannot bear to go another day without her!" He turned to Smythe. "Thank you, my friend, for your good counsel and your understanding. I shall do as you advise. And if her love for me is true, as I believe her love to be, then we together shall determine what our course must be!"
He clapped Smythe on the shoulders and hurried out the door. Shakespeare sighed. "The course of true love never did run smooth," he muttered, "for love is blind and lovers cannot see."
"What?" said Smythe. "Why do you look upon me so, Ben, with such a February face, so
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