place.
“Remain inside the carriage,” Lord Burke told her, “while I see if I can obtain seats for us.” He climbed from the coach. The grooms stood guard at each door so that Lady Barrows would not be disturbed.
Fascinated, Valentina watched the street traffic Gazing up, she could see a cloth-of-gold globe sewn on the bright scarlet silk banner floating from a gilded ash pole atop the tower of the playhouse. Outside her coach the playgoers hurried by, common people for the most part, apprentices, shopkeepers and their wives, some foreign visitors who had heard of Master Shakespeare. There were young girls selling fruit from wooden trays; a fat, red-cheeked woman crying, “Buns! Sugar buns! Who’ll buy my buns? Two for a ha’penny!” There was a water seller and another woman crying her cakes and ale.
The carriage door opened, and Lord Burke handed Valentina out into the street. “I’ve managed to get us the last two seats on the stage,” he said, and led her into the theater. “Keep your cloak tightly about you, Val. Moll Cutpurse is rumored to be here today.”
“Who on earth is Moll Cutpurse, Padraic?”
“A most notorious thief. Her name is Mary Frith, and she was born, I’ve heard, respectable enough. She dresses in men’s clothing—itself quite an oddity. She gained quite a reputation over the years and shows no mercy even to her own sex. I hope you haven’t worn a great deal of jewelry.”
“You cannot expect me to appear in public without adornment,” she said sharply, and he grinned.
“Keep your cloak closed, Val,” he told her. “I am unarmed and in no mood to get into an altercation over some trifle of yours.”
They made their way through the pit, where the common folk sat for a penny apiece. The benches were already filled with a noisy, jostling mob. Sellers who had paid the theater manager a small fee were hawking ale, cider, fruits, nuts, and cakes inside the pit. A group of men were playing cards in a corner of the theater, while in the very center of the pit a hotly contested and vocal game of dice was underway. At the foot of the stairs leading up to the stage they were stopped by an attendant.
“No entry,” he said. “This section of the stage is reserved for my lord, the Earl of Pembroke, and his party.”
“But I have my threepenny chits,” Padraic Burke argued.
“No entry,” said the attendant firmly.
“The Earl of Pembroke will not be coming,” said Valentina, speaking up boldly.
“Not coming?” The theater attendant looked at her askance. “And why is he not coming, I should like to know?”
“Because he has been in the Fleet on Her Majesty’s orders since yesterday. Obviously your ticket seller knew or he would not have sold Lord Burke his tickets. Let us pass, please. I am not accustomed to being forced to stand about a public place waiting to be seated. I am Lady Barrows, one of Her Majesty’s ladies-in-waiting.”
The attendant made Valentina a leg, then escorted them to their seats. “I apologize, madam. I was not informed. I hope you will not speak ill of the Globe to Her Majesty.” He was very impressed by Lady Barrows’s air of authority, not to mention her beauty. He had supposed all of the queen’s women were dried-up sticks like old Bess herself.
“An understandable mistake,” Valentina replied graciously as she was seated. She smiled her thanks at the attendant, then immediately ignored him.
Lord Burke barely managed to contain his glee. “God’s foot, what a vixen you are! Another moment, and the poor man would have been begging your forgiveness.”
“The Earl of Pembroke is in the Fleet,” she said, “so where was the harm in setting the man straight? Would you have stood there and argued with him, my lord? What are those rooms facing the stage?” she asked. “Why do some have their curtains drawn, and others not? Would not one of those rooms been more private?”
“Oh, immensely more private, madam, and entirely
“Remain inside the carriage,” Lord Burke told her, “while I see if I can obtain seats for us.” He climbed from the coach. The grooms stood guard at each door so that Lady Barrows would not be disturbed.
Fascinated, Valentina watched the street traffic Gazing up, she could see a cloth-of-gold globe sewn on the bright scarlet silk banner floating from a gilded ash pole atop the tower of the playhouse. Outside her coach the playgoers hurried by, common people for the most part, apprentices, shopkeepers and their wives, some foreign visitors who had heard of Master Shakespeare. There were young girls selling fruit from wooden trays; a fat, red-cheeked woman crying, “Buns! Sugar buns! Who’ll buy my buns? Two for a ha’penny!” There was a water seller and another woman crying her cakes and ale.
The carriage door opened, and Lord Burke handed Valentina out into the street. “I’ve managed to get us the last two seats on the stage,” he said, and led her into the theater. “Keep your cloak tightly about you, Val. Moll Cutpurse is rumored to be here today.”
“Who on earth is Moll Cutpurse, Padraic?”
“A most notorious thief. Her name is Mary Frith, and she was born, I’ve heard, respectable enough. She dresses in men’s clothing—itself quite an oddity. She gained quite a reputation over the years and shows no mercy even to her own sex. I hope you haven’t worn a great deal of jewelry.”
“You cannot expect me to appear in public without adornment,” she said sharply, and he grinned.
“Keep your cloak closed, Val,” he told her. “I am unarmed and in no mood to get into an altercation over some trifle of yours.”
They made their way through the pit, where the common folk sat for a penny apiece. The benches were already filled with a noisy, jostling mob. Sellers who had paid the theater manager a small fee were hawking ale, cider, fruits, nuts, and cakes inside the pit. A group of men were playing cards in a corner of the theater, while in the very center of the pit a hotly contested and vocal game of dice was underway. At the foot of the stairs leading up to the stage they were stopped by an attendant.
“No entry,” he said. “This section of the stage is reserved for my lord, the Earl of Pembroke, and his party.”
“But I have my threepenny chits,” Padraic Burke argued.
“No entry,” said the attendant firmly.
“The Earl of Pembroke will not be coming,” said Valentina, speaking up boldly.
“Not coming?” The theater attendant looked at her askance. “And why is he not coming, I should like to know?”
“Because he has been in the Fleet on Her Majesty’s orders since yesterday. Obviously your ticket seller knew or he would not have sold Lord Burke his tickets. Let us pass, please. I am not accustomed to being forced to stand about a public place waiting to be seated. I am Lady Barrows, one of Her Majesty’s ladies-in-waiting.”
The attendant made Valentina a leg, then escorted them to their seats. “I apologize, madam. I was not informed. I hope you will not speak ill of the Globe to Her Majesty.” He was very impressed by Lady Barrows’s air of authority, not to mention her beauty. He had supposed all of the queen’s women were dried-up sticks like old Bess herself.
“An understandable mistake,” Valentina replied graciously as she was seated. She smiled her thanks at the attendant, then immediately ignored him.
Lord Burke barely managed to contain his glee. “God’s foot, what a vixen you are! Another moment, and the poor man would have been begging your forgiveness.”
“The Earl of Pembroke is in the Fleet,” she said, “so where was the harm in setting the man straight? Would you have stood there and argued with him, my lord? What are those rooms facing the stage?” she asked. “Why do some have their curtains drawn, and others not? Would not one of those rooms been more private?”
“Oh, immensely more private, madam, and entirely
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