Now let me see you do it unaided, Master Revill.”
Jack stood watching me like a fencing-master until I had grasped the strokes to his satisfaction – or at least to my satisfaction, which was considerably easier to obtain.
“Now we ought to move on to the
volte
and the
punta riversa
,” he said.
“Unless we are required inside,” I said hopefully.
But Jack was enjoying his role as instructor too much and brushed aside my comment as easily as he brushed aside my blade. We thrust and parried, twisted and turned on the Doctor’s lawn like a pair of dancers. It was one of those early spring mornings that seem to prefigure summer itself. The sweat was running down my face. Eventually, to my relief, Laurence Savage summoned Jack for a reprise of one of his scenes indoors and I was left to myself. I sank down, placing my gleaming blade in the long grass beside me.
“
Stocatta
,
imbrocatta
,” I hissed through my teeth in true Italian style, and then, “
Volte
,
punta riversa
. . .
puuunta riverrrrsa
.”
Then I stood up once more, retrieved my foil from the ground and lunged and parried, all the time repeating the terms which Jack had used. I felt like a real Mercutio. All at once I stopped. I was being watched.
There was a little burst of clapping from above.
“
Bene
,” said a voice.
I looked up and saw Susan Constant watching me from a bank above the lawn, a twitch of what might have been amusement on her clear features. Like anyone caught unawares, and doing something slightly foolish, I laughed it off.
I knew who she was but did not want to acknowledge it (since she might think I’d been asking questions about her, which I had) so I simply bowed slightly and introduced myself.
“Oh, I think I know you, Master Revill. I saw you bring in Mistress Root the other day. And I was watching you inside just now when you were killed in the duel.”
“That’s why I need to practise, mistress,” I said. “So that I don’t get killed again.”
“But it is written, is it not?” she said. “That you must die.”
“Only in this piece. As a player, I will rise to live and fight another day. I’ve died and risen again many times.”
“Then perhaps you are the person to help?”
“Help who?”
“Help us. Help me.”
“Help you, lady? But I am not even certain whom I have the honour of addressing.”
“Aren’t you?” she said. “Well, I am Susan Constant.”
All this time she had been standing above me on the bank and now she ran down the slope until our heads were on the same level. I waited for her to speak first, because I really hadn’t any idea what she wanted.
“Your Company is here to perform
Romeo and Juliet
, to smooth any obstacles on the road to my cousin’s marriage?”
“Your cousin is Sarah Constant? While it is her marriage to William Sadler you mean,” I said. “Yes, that’s why we’re here although we’re also playing at the Golden Cross Inn for the public. But you should talk to one of the seniors or to Doctor Fern. They know more than me. I’m just a simple player.”
“Your friend Abel Glaze told me about you,” she said.
“I could tell you a thing or two about him.”
“Are you playing at the Golden Cross today?”
“This afternoon at two o’clock.
Love’s Loss
.” Seeing her puzzled look I added, “It’s the title of a piece by William Hordle.”
“Who is William Hordle?”
“A playwright. His name is growing in London.”
“It’s a tragedy?”
“Veering nearer to comedy despite the title. You will leave happy.”
“You are in it?”
“Madam, we are not such a large company, and so almost all of us are in almost everything the whole time,” I said, wondering where this catechism was leading.
“Then I shall be at the Golden Cross this afternoon. Master Revill, I would welcome the opportunity to speak with you afterwards.”
“I would be honoured to speak with you afterwards or at any time, Mistress Constant,” I said, “but can
Jack stood watching me like a fencing-master until I had grasped the strokes to his satisfaction – or at least to my satisfaction, which was considerably easier to obtain.
“Now we ought to move on to the
volte
and the
punta riversa
,” he said.
“Unless we are required inside,” I said hopefully.
But Jack was enjoying his role as instructor too much and brushed aside my comment as easily as he brushed aside my blade. We thrust and parried, twisted and turned on the Doctor’s lawn like a pair of dancers. It was one of those early spring mornings that seem to prefigure summer itself. The sweat was running down my face. Eventually, to my relief, Laurence Savage summoned Jack for a reprise of one of his scenes indoors and I was left to myself. I sank down, placing my gleaming blade in the long grass beside me.
“
Stocatta
,
imbrocatta
,” I hissed through my teeth in true Italian style, and then, “
Volte
,
punta riversa
. . .
puuunta riverrrrsa
.”
Then I stood up once more, retrieved my foil from the ground and lunged and parried, all the time repeating the terms which Jack had used. I felt like a real Mercutio. All at once I stopped. I was being watched.
There was a little burst of clapping from above.
“
Bene
,” said a voice.
I looked up and saw Susan Constant watching me from a bank above the lawn, a twitch of what might have been amusement on her clear features. Like anyone caught unawares, and doing something slightly foolish, I laughed it off.
I knew who she was but did not want to acknowledge it (since she might think I’d been asking questions about her, which I had) so I simply bowed slightly and introduced myself.
“Oh, I think I know you, Master Revill. I saw you bring in Mistress Root the other day. And I was watching you inside just now when you were killed in the duel.”
“That’s why I need to practise, mistress,” I said. “So that I don’t get killed again.”
“But it is written, is it not?” she said. “That you must die.”
“Only in this piece. As a player, I will rise to live and fight another day. I’ve died and risen again many times.”
“Then perhaps you are the person to help?”
“Help who?”
“Help us. Help me.”
“Help you, lady? But I am not even certain whom I have the honour of addressing.”
“Aren’t you?” she said. “Well, I am Susan Constant.”
All this time she had been standing above me on the bank and now she ran down the slope until our heads were on the same level. I waited for her to speak first, because I really hadn’t any idea what she wanted.
“Your Company is here to perform
Romeo and Juliet
, to smooth any obstacles on the road to my cousin’s marriage?”
“Your cousin is Sarah Constant? While it is her marriage to William Sadler you mean,” I said. “Yes, that’s why we’re here although we’re also playing at the Golden Cross Inn for the public. But you should talk to one of the seniors or to Doctor Fern. They know more than me. I’m just a simple player.”
“Your friend Abel Glaze told me about you,” she said.
“I could tell you a thing or two about him.”
“Are you playing at the Golden Cross today?”
“This afternoon at two o’clock.
Love’s Loss
.” Seeing her puzzled look I added, “It’s the title of a piece by William Hordle.”
“Who is William Hordle?”
“A playwright. His name is growing in London.”
“It’s a tragedy?”
“Veering nearer to comedy despite the title. You will leave happy.”
“You are in it?”
“Madam, we are not such a large company, and so almost all of us are in almost everything the whole time,” I said, wondering where this catechism was leading.
“Then I shall be at the Golden Cross this afternoon. Master Revill, I would welcome the opportunity to speak with you afterwards.”
“I would be honoured to speak with you afterwards or at any time, Mistress Constant,” I said, “but can
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