Firethorn wooed her shamelessly as the noble Duke and directed the Epilogue to her with moving conviction. When he bowed low to his fair maid of Bohemia, she was so thrilled that she stood up to lead the applause. The whole Court rose to its feet in approbation and the actors luxuriated in the ovation for several minutes. Rudolph remained seated but one palm beat against the arm of his chair in dignified salutation. The Emperor was pleased. Westfield’s Men had been accepted.
Steps were brought so that Rudolph could be escorted up onto the stage to be introduced to the leading sharers. Gill fawned monstrously and Hoode became tongue-tied in the face of majesty. Neither of them enjoyed the treasured moment which fell to Firethorn. Luminescent with excitement, Sophia Magdalena followed her great-uncle up the steps and offered her hand to the actor-manager. The kiss which he placed upon it was both an act of homage and a promise. His lips tingled for minutes. It was the Emperor who had the last word. When he congratulated Firethorn on his performance as the Duke of Mantua, the latter beamed obsequiously and gave a bow.
‘I am your obedient servant!’ he said with humility.
‘No, Master Firethorn,’ countered a smirking Rudolph. ‘It is I who was your obedient servant.’
He went off into such a peal of infectious laughter that everyone joined in and the whole room echoed with wild mirth, even though most of them had no idea what the source of amusement was. Only the Chamberlain and Sophia Magdalena were immune. They were too accustomed to Rudolph’s eccentricities to find them quite so diverting anymore. Wolfgang von Rumpf remained aloof. Sophia Magdalena took quiet enjoyment from watching Firethorn’s huge and uninhibited delight. Like everything else about him, his capacity for exultation was magnificently theatrical.
***
Nicholas Bracewell and George Dart were the last to leave. Everything had been cleared off the stage and stored in a room which had been put at their disposal. Nicholas surveyed the empty hall with quiet satisfaction.
‘We acquitted ourselves well, George,’ he remarked.
‘I never dreamed that I would visit such a palace,’ said Dart, looking around with veneration. ‘It is the most wonderful theatre in which we could ever play.’
‘That is not quite true.’
‘What could possibly outshine this?’
‘The Vladislav Hall,’ said Nicholas, pointing in the direction of the door. ‘Master Firethorn and I were shown it during our visit here yesterday. It is even bigger and more impressive than this hall.’
Dart gaped. ‘Bigger?’
‘Much bigger, George. It is used for coronation feasts and for assembles of Bohemian noblemen. Great matters of state are settled there. In bad weather, they have even held indoor jousting tournaments there, with the knights entering by means of the Riders’ Staircase.’ He smiled at Dart’s expression of utter amazement. ‘But you will see the Vladislav Hall for yourself when we play there.’
‘I thought that all our work was to be staged here.’
‘All but one of our plays. The Fair Maid of Bohemia.’
‘We perform that in this bigger hall?’
‘We do, George. That is where the wedding banquet will be served. Westfield’s Men will be one part of an entertainment which will go on throughout the day in celebration of the happy event. We will play before a vast and distinguished audience.’
‘My knees are trembling already.’
‘They will be steady enough on the day.’
‘I hope so,’ said Dart, consumed by feelings of inadequacy. ‘Have you finished with me now?’
‘One last service.’
‘What is it?’
‘Some of our costumes were left at the Black Eagle for repair and alteration. There is a doublet that Adrian was to have worn in Double Deceit, for instance. It had to be tailored to fit the more slender frame of James Ingram.’
‘I miss Adrian horribly,’ confided the other.
‘So do we all, George.’
‘And will his murderer go scot-free?’
‘Not if I have anything to do with it,’ said Nicholas seriously. ‘But let us concern ourselves with those costumes. Mistress Hendrik will have finished sewing them by now.’
‘It is kind of her to take on that task.’
‘She is anxious to contribute in some way to our success here, though she has already done that in no small measure.’
‘I know that she has helped me and I could not be more thankful. She has been a second mother to me.’
‘Go to her now and ask for the costumes.’
‘What must I do with them?’
‘Bring them back here and put them with the rest of the wardrobe, for we will use most of them tomorrow.’ Dart nodded dutifully. ‘About it straight. Do this last errand and the rest of the day is your own.’
Given such an incentive, Dart went scampering off down the hall with a mixture of haste and reverence. Nicholas went after him at a more leisurely pace, savouring the beauty of the frescoes and the subtle artistry of the statuary. Wherever he walked, there were new wonders to capture the attention. The royal palace was a continuous marvel. It seemed to him like a fairy-tale creation. Then he remembered the man who was locked up in one of its dungeons. The plight of Doctor Talbot Royden gave him a more critical view of the opulence all around him. He quickened his pace towards the exit.
As Nicholas left the palace, he saw two figures standing on the steps of the cathedral and recognised one of them immediately. Hugo Usselincx was deep in conversation with a priest. The Dutchman was gesticulating with both hands. The priest was nodding solemnly. When he caught sight of the book-holder, Usselincx excused himself from his companion and trotted across to Nicholas. The diffident smile appeared.
‘How was your play received?’ he asked eagerly.
‘It was much admired, Hugo.’
‘And so it should be. Westfield’s Men are superb.’
‘We strive to give pleasure.’
‘My dearest wish is to watch you again somehow. Is Love and Fortune to be staged, by any chance?’
‘Tomorrow.’
‘Then I will do all I can to be here.’
‘You will be most welcome.’
‘What of Cupid’s Folly?’
‘A decision has not yet been made about that.’
‘Please let me know when it has been. I would not wish to miss the joy of seeing Master Gill at his finest.’
Usselincx fell in beside him and they walked into the second courtyard together. Chatting pleasantly, they left the castle and made their way down the hill. Nicholas noted how quickly the Dutchman seemed to have settled into the city. It was clearly not his first visit there. Half-way down the hill, Usselincx came to a halt and took in the view with a gesture.
‘What do you think of Prague?’ he asked.
‘I like it.’
‘How much have you been able to see so far?’
‘Enough to fill me with admiration.’
‘Has it been worth the effort of getting here?’
‘We think so.’
‘The city is blessed by your presence.’
‘It has saints enough to give a proper blessing,’ said Nicholas, smiling as he looked at the profusion of church spires. ‘What has surprised us is the number of foreigners here. Italians, Poles, Hungarians, French and Spanish.’
‘Do not forget the Dutch and the English.’
‘Prague is truly a meeting-place of nations.’
‘That is one of the things which drew me here.’
‘What are the others?’ asked Nicholas with interest.
Usselincx gathered his thoughts before replying. As soon as he began to speak, however, he was interrupted by the sound of running feet. Panting stertorously and white with fear, George Dart was struggling up the incline towards them. There was no sign of the costumes he had been sent to fetch.