The Best Science Fiction and Fantasy of the Year - Volume Eight by Jonathan Strahan [Editor] Page A
Authors: Jonathan Strahan [Editor]
Tags: Fiction
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falling crash within.
"All's well, Bessie?"
"Aye, zur."
"We'll wait here for a moment. Uh, before we go in. The gentlemen will excuse me but I did not hear your names."
" He's forgotten your names. These English cannot speak." V esuvius smiled. "Is so easy to remember in English. This be noble Rosary and Goldenstar."
"Sirs, we are honored. Honored beyond measure!"
Mr. Goldenstar sniffed. " The whole place sags and creaks. Haven't the English heard of bricks ?"
Mr. Rosary beamed and gestured at the panelling and the turd-brown floor. "House. Beautiful. Beautiful!"
Squire Digges began to talk to them as if they were children. "In. Warm!" He beat his own arms. "Warrrrrrrrrrm."
Goldenstar was a military man, and when he saw the room beyond, he gave a cry and leapt back in alarm.
It was not a dining hall but a dungeon. It had rough blocks, chains, and ankle irons that hung from the wall. " It's a trap!" he yelped, and clasped young Rosary to pull him back.
From behind the table a tall, lean man rose up, all in black with a skull cap and lace around his neck. Inquisitor.
"Oh!" laughed the Squire and touched his forehead. "No, no, no, no alarms, I beg. Hah! The house once belonged to Philip Henslowe; he owns the theater out back; this is like a set from a play."
Vesuvius blinked in fury. " This is his idea of a joke."
"You should see the upstairs; it is full of naked Venuses!"
" I think he just said upstairs is a brothel ."
Goldenstar ran his fingers over the walls. The rough stones, the iron rings and the chains had all been frescoed onto plaster. He blurted out a laugh. " They're all mad ."
" They are all strolling players. They do nothing but go to the theater. They pose and declaim and roar ."
Digges flung out a hand toward the man in black. "Now to the business at hand. Sirs! May… I… introduce… Doctor John DEE!"
For the Doctor, Vesuvius had a glittery smile; but he said through his teeth, " They mime everything ."
"Ah!" Mr. Rosary sprang forward to shake the old man's hand. He was in love, eyes alight. "Queen Elisabetta. Magus!"
Dr. John Dee rumbled, "I am called Mage, yes, but I am in fact the Advisor Philosophical to her Majesty."
Digges beamed. "His Parallaticae commentationis and my own Alae seu scalae mathematicae were printed as a pair."
Someone else attended, pale skinned, pink cheeked, and glossy from nose to balding scalp, with black eyes like currants in a bun and an expression like a barber welcoming you to his shop.
"And this example," growled Digges, putting his hand on the young man's shoulder, "will not be known to you, but we hold him in high esteem, a family friend. This is Guillermus Shakespere."
The young man presented himself. "A Rosary and a Goldenstar. These are names for poetry. Especially should one wish to contrast Religion and Philosophy."
Vesuvius's lip curled. "You mock names?"
"No no, of course not. I beg! Not that construction. It is but poetic… convenience. My own poor name summons up dragooned peasants shaking weapons. Or, or, an actor whose only roles are those of soldiers." The young man looked back and forth between the men, expecting laughter. They blinked and stood with their hands folded not quite into fists.
"My young friend is a reformed Papist and so thinks much on issues of religion and philosophy. As do we." Digges paused, also waiting. "Please sit, gentlemen."
Cushions, food, and wine all beckoned. Digges busied himself pouring far too much wine into tankards. Mr. Rosary hunkered down with pleasure next to Dr. Dee, and even took his hand. He then began to speak, sometimes closing his eyes. "My dear Squire Digges and honorable Doctor Dee. My relative Tycho Brahe sends his greatest respects and has entrusted us to give you this, his latest work."
He sighed and chuckled, relieved to be rid of both a small gray printed pamphlet, and his speech. Digges howled his gratitude, and read a passage aloud from the pamphlet and passed it to Dr. Dee, and pressed
"All's well, Bessie?"
"Aye, zur."
"We'll wait here for a moment. Uh, before we go in. The gentlemen will excuse me but I did not hear your names."
" He's forgotten your names. These English cannot speak." V esuvius smiled. "Is so easy to remember in English. This be noble Rosary and Goldenstar."
"Sirs, we are honored. Honored beyond measure!"
Mr. Goldenstar sniffed. " The whole place sags and creaks. Haven't the English heard of bricks ?"
Mr. Rosary beamed and gestured at the panelling and the turd-brown floor. "House. Beautiful. Beautiful!"
Squire Digges began to talk to them as if they were children. "In. Warm!" He beat his own arms. "Warrrrrrrrrrm."
Goldenstar was a military man, and when he saw the room beyond, he gave a cry and leapt back in alarm.
It was not a dining hall but a dungeon. It had rough blocks, chains, and ankle irons that hung from the wall. " It's a trap!" he yelped, and clasped young Rosary to pull him back.
From behind the table a tall, lean man rose up, all in black with a skull cap and lace around his neck. Inquisitor.
"Oh!" laughed the Squire and touched his forehead. "No, no, no, no alarms, I beg. Hah! The house once belonged to Philip Henslowe; he owns the theater out back; this is like a set from a play."
Vesuvius blinked in fury. " This is his idea of a joke."
"You should see the upstairs; it is full of naked Venuses!"
" I think he just said upstairs is a brothel ."
Goldenstar ran his fingers over the walls. The rough stones, the iron rings and the chains had all been frescoed onto plaster. He blurted out a laugh. " They're all mad ."
" They are all strolling players. They do nothing but go to the theater. They pose and declaim and roar ."
Digges flung out a hand toward the man in black. "Now to the business at hand. Sirs! May… I… introduce… Doctor John DEE!"
For the Doctor, Vesuvius had a glittery smile; but he said through his teeth, " They mime everything ."
"Ah!" Mr. Rosary sprang forward to shake the old man's hand. He was in love, eyes alight. "Queen Elisabetta. Magus!"
Dr. John Dee rumbled, "I am called Mage, yes, but I am in fact the Advisor Philosophical to her Majesty."
Digges beamed. "His Parallaticae commentationis and my own Alae seu scalae mathematicae were printed as a pair."
Someone else attended, pale skinned, pink cheeked, and glossy from nose to balding scalp, with black eyes like currants in a bun and an expression like a barber welcoming you to his shop.
"And this example," growled Digges, putting his hand on the young man's shoulder, "will not be known to you, but we hold him in high esteem, a family friend. This is Guillermus Shakespere."
The young man presented himself. "A Rosary and a Goldenstar. These are names for poetry. Especially should one wish to contrast Religion and Philosophy."
Vesuvius's lip curled. "You mock names?"
"No no, of course not. I beg! Not that construction. It is but poetic… convenience. My own poor name summons up dragooned peasants shaking weapons. Or, or, an actor whose only roles are those of soldiers." The young man looked back and forth between the men, expecting laughter. They blinked and stood with their hands folded not quite into fists.
"My young friend is a reformed Papist and so thinks much on issues of religion and philosophy. As do we." Digges paused, also waiting. "Please sit, gentlemen."
Cushions, food, and wine all beckoned. Digges busied himself pouring far too much wine into tankards. Mr. Rosary hunkered down with pleasure next to Dr. Dee, and even took his hand. He then began to speak, sometimes closing his eyes. "My dear Squire Digges and honorable Doctor Dee. My relative Tycho Brahe sends his greatest respects and has entrusted us to give you this, his latest work."
He sighed and chuckled, relieved to be rid of both a small gray printed pamphlet, and his speech. Digges howled his gratitude, and read a passage aloud from the pamphlet and passed it to Dr. Dee, and pressed
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