entered their carriage.
“On reflection, I am not so certain that Nan is wrong. She may have more sense than either of us. The theater crowd is apt to be a rough one. Stay by me at all times, Val,” he warned.
“Where is the Globe?” Valentina asked.
“Across the bridge in Southwark,” he answered her. “ ’Tis really the New Globe. The city council and their Puritan allies got the old theater torn down several years ago. The new one was built across the river near the Bear Garden. ’Tis a pretty rough district, but generally safe in the daytime.”
“Is it like the mummers, Padraic?”
He smiled. “No, a thousand times better, Val. The mummers act out old plays that go back so far in time that the words have been altered over the centuries. Besides, they are simple stories. A play by Master Shakespeare or poor Christopher Marlowe is a totally different experience. I do not understand how they can form words so that they sound so extraordinary.”
“Why ‘poor’ Christopher Marlowe?”
“He was killed in a tavern brawl several years ago. The man was a genius … and a complete madman.”
“I remember your sister, Velvet, saying that she had met him during her time at court. She did not like him at all. She said he attempted to take liberties with her.”
“Aye, that would have been just like Marlowe. He held himself in great esteem.” Padraic chuckled. “I imagine Velvet sent him packing.”
It was a beautiful day. The sun shone brightly, and there was almost no wind at all, most unusual for January. They traveled upriver into the city toward the London Bridge. Southwark, with its theaters, Bear Garden, and taverns, was just on the other side of the bridge. The bridge itself was actually more of a street extending itself over the Thames. There were buildings on either side of the bridge containing shops, homes, and elegant whorehouses. River traffic made its way under the bridge except for twice daily during the hours of high tide when “shooting the bridge” became too hazardous except for fools and lovers of danger.
London was a noisy city, and Valentina wondered if she would ever get used to it. There was also the matter of the refuse in the streets, which became muddy during rain or snow. The stink was bad enough in winter, Padraic told her, but worse in summer. As for the rats, she was astounded to see them boldly rifling through the piles of garbage in the streets, neither unimpeded nor fearful of man. The passing crowds paid them little attention, going about their business past the fetid piles without so much as a glance at the red-eyed rodents.
The carriage clattered across the London Bridge. Once in Southwark, it was immediately surrounded by beggars, and Lady Barrows understood why Lord Burke had insisted on their taking along the coachman’s assistant and two grooms who rode behind. It was the job of those three men to beat the beggars off and keep the coach free of encumbrance so that John, the coachman, might guide the vehicle safely. When they reached the theater, the four men would guard the carriage so that nothing might be stolen.
“Sit back,” Padraic warned Valentina. “When they see a woman, they know there’s jewelry—and some are bold enough to leap inside and tear it from you.” Although her cape was fastened securely with silver and purple jade frogs, Lady Barrows heeded her companion’s advice, drawing the cape even more tightly about her. She pulled the fur-lined hood far forward to hide her face.
The carriage turned down a narrow lane that led directly to the theater, and most of their followers disappeared. A pennant flew above the theater, announcing that there would be a performance that day.
Valentina leaned forward, and to Lord Burke, the lovely face peering from the fur-edged velvet hood was the excited one of a young girl receiving something she had wanted all her life. He longed to kiss her, but he knew this was neither the time nor the appropriate
“On reflection, I am not so certain that Nan is wrong. She may have more sense than either of us. The theater crowd is apt to be a rough one. Stay by me at all times, Val,” he warned.
“Where is the Globe?” Valentina asked.
“Across the bridge in Southwark,” he answered her. “ ’Tis really the New Globe. The city council and their Puritan allies got the old theater torn down several years ago. The new one was built across the river near the Bear Garden. ’Tis a pretty rough district, but generally safe in the daytime.”
“Is it like the mummers, Padraic?”
He smiled. “No, a thousand times better, Val. The mummers act out old plays that go back so far in time that the words have been altered over the centuries. Besides, they are simple stories. A play by Master Shakespeare or poor Christopher Marlowe is a totally different experience. I do not understand how they can form words so that they sound so extraordinary.”
“Why ‘poor’ Christopher Marlowe?”
“He was killed in a tavern brawl several years ago. The man was a genius … and a complete madman.”
“I remember your sister, Velvet, saying that she had met him during her time at court. She did not like him at all. She said he attempted to take liberties with her.”
“Aye, that would have been just like Marlowe. He held himself in great esteem.” Padraic chuckled. “I imagine Velvet sent him packing.”
It was a beautiful day. The sun shone brightly, and there was almost no wind at all, most unusual for January. They traveled upriver into the city toward the London Bridge. Southwark, with its theaters, Bear Garden, and taverns, was just on the other side of the bridge. The bridge itself was actually more of a street extending itself over the Thames. There were buildings on either side of the bridge containing shops, homes, and elegant whorehouses. River traffic made its way under the bridge except for twice daily during the hours of high tide when “shooting the bridge” became too hazardous except for fools and lovers of danger.
London was a noisy city, and Valentina wondered if she would ever get used to it. There was also the matter of the refuse in the streets, which became muddy during rain or snow. The stink was bad enough in winter, Padraic told her, but worse in summer. As for the rats, she was astounded to see them boldly rifling through the piles of garbage in the streets, neither unimpeded nor fearful of man. The passing crowds paid them little attention, going about their business past the fetid piles without so much as a glance at the red-eyed rodents.
The carriage clattered across the London Bridge. Once in Southwark, it was immediately surrounded by beggars, and Lady Barrows understood why Lord Burke had insisted on their taking along the coachman’s assistant and two grooms who rode behind. It was the job of those three men to beat the beggars off and keep the coach free of encumbrance so that John, the coachman, might guide the vehicle safely. When they reached the theater, the four men would guard the carriage so that nothing might be stolen.
“Sit back,” Padraic warned Valentina. “When they see a woman, they know there’s jewelry—and some are bold enough to leap inside and tear it from you.” Although her cape was fastened securely with silver and purple jade frogs, Lady Barrows heeded her companion’s advice, drawing the cape even more tightly about her. She pulled the fur-lined hood far forward to hide her face.
The carriage turned down a narrow lane that led directly to the theater, and most of their followers disappeared. A pennant flew above the theater, announcing that there would be a performance that day.
Valentina leaned forward, and to Lord Burke, the lovely face peering from the fur-edged velvet hood was the excited one of a young girl receiving something she had wanted all her life. He longed to kiss her, but he knew this was neither the time nor the appropriate
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