It was Doctor Emmanuel Zander.
When the stage had been dismantled and put away, all trace of the players may have vanished but not of the performance itself. The yard into which the spectators had been crammed was littered with discarded food and other rubbish. One of Leonard’s many tasks was to sweep the yard with a broom so that it was relatively clean when the audience filled it on the following afternoon. It was lonely and repetitious work but he did it with his customary zeal, using his strength to sweep everything into a huge pile that he could load into his barrow. As he brushed away with rhythmical strokes, Leonard sent a small shower of dust into the air. He did not see the man who came into the yard.
‘One moment, friend,’ said the stranger. ‘Do you work here?’
‘I do, sir,’ said Leonard, pausing to lean on his broom.
‘Then you’d know of the company that performs here.’
‘Westfield’s Men, the best players in London. And I’m part of the troupe, sir, for I sweep up after them.’ Leonard glanced around the yard. ‘This mess was made this afternoon during Love and Fortune.’
‘Do you know any of the actors?’
‘Know them, sir? Why, I’m friends with each and every one.’
The stranger, a small weasel of a man in his thirties, stepped in closer.
‘Would they include a fellow by the name of Owen Elias?’ he asked.
‘Yes, they would. Owen’s among the finest of them.’
‘A fiery Welshman, as I hear.’
Leonard chuckled. ‘Then you hear aright. Owen will let no man put him down. If you meet him in the taproom, be sure to treat him with respect or he’ll buffet you for certain.’ He looked down at the man. ‘What’s your business with him?’
‘The person I really seek,’ said the stranger, ‘is a friend of his, who may or may not have any dealings with Westfield’s Men. Have you ever heard tell of one Nicholas Bracewell?’ Leonard burst out laughing. ‘What did I say to set you off?’
‘Anyone who knows Westfield’s Men will know Nick Bracewell, sir.’
‘Why?’
‘Because he holds them all together,’ said Leonard, proudly. ‘Nick is the best friend that I have in the company. He’s their book holder.’
Owen Elias juggled with three apples and kept them spinning through the air. As soon as Hoode applauded him, however, he lost his concentration and his timing. All three apples tumbled to the floor. Hoode bent down to retrieve them.
‘No, no, Edmund,’ said Elias. ‘I dropped them, so I must pick them up.’
‘It was my fault that they fell to the floor.’
‘I should not have been so easily distracted. It was Barnaby who taught me how to juggle. He can keep five apples in the air at one time and they are never in any danger of being dropped.’ He gathered up the fruit and replaced it in a bowl. ‘You may judge what that proves.’
‘Barnaby has quicker hands than you.’
Elias gave a coarse laugh. ‘Many young men have learnt that.’
After a long day without visitors, Hoode was relieved when the Welshman called to see him, but distressed to hear of the calamitous performance of Love and Fortune that afternoon. Hoode had felt well enough to get out of bed and dress, but he was tiring as the evening wore on. Elias did his best to entertain his friend with antics and anecdotes. They were both pleased when Nicholas Bracewell joined them.
‘I was beginning to think my friends had forgotten me,’ said Hoode.
‘We could never do that,’ promised Nicholas. ‘Owen will have told you of our tribulations today. We barely got through the play.’
‘I should have been there to help you.’
‘Not while you are still unwell,’ said Elias. ‘But what’s this I hear about Michael Grammaticus stealing your play away from you?’
‘That’s not the case at all, Owen.’
‘No,’ said Nicholas. ‘He’s merely writing a couple of scenes to see if he can pick up Edmund’s voice. Michael believes that he can work just as well in a comedy.’
‘How?’ wondered Elias. ‘Comedy is about laughter and I’ve never seen the fellow crack his face. I’ve seen happier countenances on a slab at the morgue.’
Nicholas shot him a look of reproof. By prior arrangement, they had agreed to say nothing about Bridewell in Hoode’s presence, nor to worry him with details of what had been taking place there. Elias gave the book holder an apologetic shrug. After a few minutes, he bade farewell to his friends and went off. Left alone with him, Nicholas was able to take a closer look at Hoode.
‘How do you feel now, Edmund?’
‘I am well in the morning, when I take my medicine, then drowsy after I’ve dined. The medicine revives me again towards the end of the afternoon but I’m unable to stay awake late into the evening.’
‘There is a definite pattern, then?’
‘Oh, yes. Doctor Zander said that there would be.’
‘Has he called on you today?’
‘Not yet,’ said Hoode, ‘but he promised to come today or tomorrow. I worry about his frequent visits. It must be costing Michael so much money, yet he’ll not hear of my paying the bills. The wonder is that he has not been here today either, though he did warn me that he’d only come when he’d finished a scene for my comedy.’
‘Has Michael ever mentioned a friend called Stephen Wragby to you?’
‘No, he so rarely talks about himself.’
‘Did he tell you anything about his time at Cambridge?’
‘Very little, Nick — except that he was glad to escape from it.’
‘Why should a scholar want to flee a seat of scholarship?’
‘He yearns for the excitement that only a playhouse can offer.’
‘It’s offered us excitement of the wrong sort today,’ said Nicholas. ‘We’ve had mishaps before but nothing to rival this afternoon’s parade of accidents. We let our audience down badly, Edmund.’
‘Owen had even harsher criticism than that.’
‘Had Michael been there, he’d have doubted that we had a talent for comedy.’
‘Only one thing would keep him away from the Queen’s Head,’ said Hoode. ‘He must be penning that new scene for my new play.’
Nicholas thought about what he has seen earlier, Grammaticus bent over his work while someone stepped familiarly into the cottage as if he owned it. He also recalled that it was the playwright who had rushed to fetch a doctor when Hoode was stricken during the rehearsal of Caesar’s Fall. Nicholas came to a sudden decision.
‘I’ll bring someone else to see you, Edmund,’ he said.
‘But Doctor Zander is my physician.’
‘We need another opinion.’
‘We’ve already had that from Doctor Rime.’
‘A third pair of eyes will do no harm.’
‘Doctor Zander will be very hurt if we turn to someone else, Nick.’
‘Then we must make sure we do not tell him,’ said Nicholas.
Three glasses of Canary wine made Lawrence Firethorn feel much better about himself and the company that he led. As he sat in the taproom with Barnaby Gill and some of the other sharers, he felt almost strong enough to return home to endure an evening of boredom with Jonathan Jarrold.
‘The strange thing is,’ mused Gill, ‘that the rehearsal was so much better than the performance itself. We should have invited the spectators to that.’
‘We had an audience of one, as it happens,’ said Firethorn. ‘Margery’s brother-in-law is visiting us from Cambridge, filling the house with the musty smell of old books. He liked what he saw in rehearsal so will bear a kind report back to his wife.’
‘We earned no kind reports this afternoon, Lawrence.’
‘I blame you for that.’
Gill flared up at once. ‘Me! I was the company’s salvation.’
‘Not when you fell on your bum in the middle of a jig.’
‘That was the fault of the costume. It was far too big for me.’
‘The costume was the right size, Barnaby. You were too small for it.’