Hoode was still swinging to and fro between amusement and apprehension but he was able to give Nicholas a swift account of what had transpired. The Misfortunes of Marriage had claimed its first casualty. Unless firm action were taken, there would be many more. Nicholas let his friend join the others before crossing over to the playwright. Jonas Applegarth was sitting in the middle of the yard on an upturned barrel, chortling to himself.
‘How now, Nick!’ he greeted. ‘You missed good sport!’
‘Baiting Master Gill is not my idea of pleasure.’
‘He asked for it!’
‘But has it advantaged your play?’
‘He will not be so rash as to forget my lines again. Players are all alike, Nick. Unless you hammer your wishes into their skulls, they will go their own sweet ways and destroy your work.’
‘That has not been my experience,’ said Nicholas, ‘and it is not the way that Westfield’s Men conduct their business. Master Gill is a most highly respected member of the company, and his contract as a sharer guarantees him an important role in everything we present.’
‘He has an important role,’ argued Applegarth. ‘It is because of his significance in the piece that I taxed him about his short-comings. Barnaby is one of the foundations of The Misfortunes of Marriage. If he falters, the whole edifice will come tumbling down.’
‘Understand one thing, Jonas,’ said Nicholas with polite reproach. ‘Without Master Gill, there will be no edifice. Drive him away with your bullying and abuse and the whole enterprise crumbles. Your play will not reach the stage.’
Applegarth bristled and rose from his barrel. ‘But you are contracted to present it.’
‘Only if certain conditions are met, pertaining to your behaviour. That was made abundantly clear to you at the outset. I explained the terms myself.’
‘My play has been advertised for performance tomorrow.’
‘The Misfortunes of Marriage would not be the first piece to be substituted at the eleventh hour. We have been on tour many times, Jonas, and are used to plucking a play from our repertoire at a moment’s notice.’
‘Cancel my masterpiece! It’s a betrayal.’
‘The play will have been betrayed by its author.’
‘All I did was to box his ears with my tongue.’
‘Then you will have to use that tongue to lick those ears better, Jonas, because Master Gill will not stir in the service of your play until you have apologised.’
‘I’d sooner eat my night-soil!’
‘I’ll convey that message to Master Firethorn.’
Nicholas turned away and headed for the tiring-house. Mastering his anger, Applegarth lumbered after him.
‘Wait, Nick! Be not so hasty!’
‘I must say the same to you,’ said Nicholas, stopping to face him again. ‘Hasty words from your mouth are the culprits here. Hasty jibes and hasty threats have put your play in jeopardy.’
‘It must be staged!’
‘Not if you grow quarrelsome.’
‘I put my life’s blood into that play.’
‘Master Gill makes an equal commitment in his acting.’
Jonas Applegarth bit back the stinging retort he was about to make and stared deep into the book holder’s eyes to see if he was bluffing. Nicholas met his gaze unwaveringly and the playwright was forced to reconsider his actions. His companion was making no idle threat. The Misfortunes of Marriage really did have an axe poised above its neck.
The playwright sounded a note of appeasement.
‘Perhaps I was a little overbearing,’ he conceded.
‘That is patent.’
‘It is my way, I fear.’
‘Not when you work with Westfield’s Men.’
‘Barnaby Gill annoys me so!’
‘You are not his favourite human being either, Jonas.’
‘And must I kneel in supplication to him?’
‘A sincere apology is the best balm for his wounds.’
‘What about the scars he inflicts on my play?’
‘They will not be there during the performance itself,’ said Nicholas confidently. ‘Master Gill has never let us down in front of an audience. Spectators bring the best out of him and he has a loyal following.’
Applegarth had to hold back another expletive. Heaving a sigh, he spread his arms wide and opened his palms.
‘The Misfortunes of Marriage is my best play, Nick.’
‘Its brilliance has been remarked upon by all of us.’
‘Any company should be proud to present it.’
‘So shall we be, Jonas, if you but stand aside and let us rehearse without interruption.’
‘It was agreed. I have the right to offer advice.’
‘Not in the form of abuse.’
‘It is my play, Nick. I wish it to be played aright.’
‘Then form a company on your own and act all the parts yourself,’ said the book holder, ‘for that is the only way you’ll be satisfied. Give your play to us and you must allow for compromise. Theatre always falls short of perfection. Westfield’s Men can simply offer to do their best for you.’
‘Under my direction.’
‘With your help,’ corrected Nicholas.
There was a long pause as Applegarth reflected on the situation. It was not a new one. He had fallen out with other theatre companies in more spectacular ways and had found himself spurned as a result. Westfield’s Men were a last resort. If they did not stage The Misfortunes of Marriage, it might never be seen by an audience. Applegarth weighed pride against practicality.
‘Well,’ said Nicholas finally. ‘Am I to tell Master Firethorn that you are now ready to eat your own night-soil?’
Applegarth guffawed. ‘Tell him I am ready to drink a cesspool and eat every dead dog in Houndsditch if it will put my work upon the scaffold in this yard.’
‘And Master Gill?’
‘Send him out to me now and I’ll cover him with so many kisses that his codpiece will burst with joy.’
‘A less extreme demonstration of regret will suffice,’ said Nicholas with a smile. He adopted a sterner tone. ‘I will not caution you again, Jonas. Unless you mend your ways and give counsel instead of curses, there is no place for you here. Do you accept that?’
Applegarth nodded. ‘I give you my word.’
‘Hold to it.’
‘I will, Nick.’
‘Wait here while I see if Master Gill is in a fit state to speak with you.’ Nicholas was about to move away when he remembered something. ‘Rumour has it that you fought a duel in recent days.’
‘That is a downright lie.’
‘With an actor from Banbury’s Men.’
‘I have never crossed swords with anyone.’
‘His offence, it seems, was damaging a play of yours.’
‘Who is spreading this untruth about me? I am the most peaceable of men, Nick. I love nothing more than harmony.’
‘It is so with us, Jonas. Bear that in mind.’
On that note of admonition, Nicholas went off to the tiring-house and left the playwright alone in the yard. Jonas Applegarth padded back to his barrel, flopped down onto it and stared at the makeshift stage in front of him. It was empty now but his quick imagination peopled it with the characters of his play and set them whirling into action. The Misfortunes of Marriage was an overwhelming success and he was soon luxuriating in thunderous applause from an invisible audience.
The lone spectator in the innyard of the Queen’s Head did not join in the acclamation. He stayed watching from the upper gallery. One wrist was heavily bandaged and his other arm was supported in a sling.
***
A long and arduous rehearsal produced a legacy of sore throats, aching limbs and frayed tempers. When their work was finally over, most of the members of the company adjourned to the taproom of the Queen’s Head to slake their thirst and to compare notes about an eventful day. Opinion was divided about Jonas Applegarth’s verbal assault on Barnaby Gill. Some praised it, some condemned it. Others felt that it was unfortunate but beneficial because, when Gill’s ruffled feathers had been smoothed by an abject apology, he gave such an impressive performance of his role that he had the playwright gleaming with approbation.