‘Why did you have to take on this duty?’ she said, touching his arm. ‘It should have fallen to Lawrence, as manager of the company. This is so typical of him, Nick. He always shuffles off his own responsibilities onto you.’
‘I was happy to accept in this case,’ explained Nicholas. ‘I liked Hal and worked more closely with him than anyone. The lad did all that we asked of him, willingly and without complaint. In view of what happened,’ he added with a wry smile, ‘it’s perhaps just as well that Lawrence did not bear the bad news to the father.’
‘Why not?’
‘Puritanism brings out the worst in him. He’d have started an argument with Hal’s father and that would have been very unseemly in the circumstances. The boy deserves to be mourned, not haggled over. If Lawrence had gone to the leather-seller’s shop,’ he said, ‘he would have been seen as the Prince of Darkness.’
‘Would he and the father have come to blows?’
‘Most likely.’
‘I’m sure that you behaved more peaceably.’
‘I was far from peaceable this afternoon, Anne,’ he admitted. ‘As a result, I may have to fight a duel.’
‘A duel?’ she repeated, eyes widening in distress.
‘Unless the matter can be settled amicably.’
‘And can it?’
‘We shall see.’
Nicholas told her about his altercation with Saul Hibbert, conceding that he had been unduly robust with the man yet showing no regret. He felt that he was repaying him for the disdainful conduct they had all endured for weeks. Having already heard some bad reports about the playwright, Anne was not surprised that he had behaved so selfishly, but she was dismayed to learn that he had dismissed the murder of Hal Bridger with such scorn.
‘Did he show no sign of sorrow at all?’ she asked.
‘Only at the way that Hal’s death interrupted his play.’
‘Master Hibbert is a monster.’
‘You might change your mind if you met him, Anne.’
‘Why?’
‘He’s a man of great charm when he chooses to be,’ said Nicholas, ‘and the ladies flock to him. Saul Hibbert is careful to flatter Lawrence as well, so that he can secure more permanent place with the company. When it comes to the rest of us, however,’ he continued with a frown, ‘he has nothing but disregard. He treats hired men as if we were a lower order of creation, and he’s even shown contempt towards Edmund.’
‘That’s unpardonable. Edmund would not strike back.’
‘I did so on his behalf, Anne, and on behalf of all the others whom our arrogant author has seen fit to bully and criticise.’
‘Someone had to stand up to him,’ said Anne, admiringly.
‘That’s what I felt.’
‘But I’m worried that it might lead to a duel.’
‘Lawrence wants me to apologise to Master Hibbert.’
‘For what? It’s he who should apologise to you.’
‘He’s already done so,’ said Nicholas with a half-smile, ‘though I had to squeeze it out of him. That’s the reason he wants me dismissed.’
‘He has no right to do that, Nick.’
‘Lawrence made that clear.’
‘Yet he still takes Master Hibbert’s side?’
‘No, Anne. He simply wants the two of us quickly reconciled. Saul Hibbert may be a tiresome man but The Malevolent Comedy carried all before it. We need such an author to compete with our rivals,’ he said, ‘and Lawrence knows that full well. He urges me to woo Master Hibbert.’
‘You can hardly do that with a sword in your hand.’
‘I’ll not shirk a duel, if one comes along.’
‘Duelling is against the law.’
‘It makes no difference, Anne. What he did this afternoon was against the more sacred laws of humanity. An innocent life is snuffed out in the course of his play and all that he can do is to protest about it. Truly,’ he went on, gritting his teeth, ‘I don’t know which of them I despise the more. A father who pretends that his son does not exist, or a playwright who treats the lad like a piece of dirt to be kicked aside.’
‘Both are equally hateful,’ said Anne without equivocation.
‘The problem is that I have to go on working with Saul Hibbert, for we’ll stage his play again and again. We are yoke-fellows.’
‘What will happen next?’
Nicholas gave a shrug. ‘That depends on him.’
Lawrence Firethorn gave him plenty of time to calm down but, after a few hours, Saul Hibbert was still simmering with rage. They met in the author’s room at the Queen’s Head and shared a bottle of sack. A haunting aroma of perfume hung in the air but it was clear to Firethorn that even time spent in the arms of a woman had failed to dispel the playwright’s sense of grievance. He continued to brood.
‘I’ll not let this pass, Lawrence,’ he warned.
‘Be ruled by me. Try to forget the whole incident.’
‘Why should I do that?’
‘Because that’s what Nick Bracewell is prepared to do.’
‘The devil take him!’
‘Be reasonable, Saul.’
‘Was that ruffian book holder of yours reasonable when he took be by the throat? No!’ he exclaimed. ‘Do not waste your time by appealing to my reason, Lawrence. I’m beyond that.’
‘All may seem different in the morning.’
‘Not to me.’
Hibbert seemed more indignant than ever and more vengeful. Two cups of sack did nothing to still his anger. Over a third, Firethorn tried once again to placate him.
‘Circumstance was against you both,’ he said. ‘After your play was such a triumph, you were rightly on fire with joy. By the same token, Nick Bracewell — after the death of Hal Bridger — was also profoundly stirred. Blood was up when the two of you met.’
‘Mine still is.’
‘Nick is mildness itself now. He accepts that he acted on impulse.’
‘I knew that you’d take his side.’
‘That’s not what I’m doing.’
‘It’s the thing that annoys me most,’ said Hibbert, tossing back his long, wavy hair. ‘You listen to a hired man before an author. You prise a lackey above someone who’s just delivered you the best success you’ve enjoyed all season.’
‘Nick is no lackey,’ rejoined Firethorn, hotly.
‘What else is the fellow? He’s a servant, a slave, a hireling, a nothing man, a minion, a menial, a faceless creature, who holds a book at a performance. Ha!’ he snorted with distaste. ‘Cancel his contract and you could replace him in five minutes.’
‘Five years would not be enough to replace Nick Bracewell.’
‘And how many years would it take to find another Saul Hibbert?’
He almost spat the challenge at Firethorn and the actor had to bite back his initial reply. Having come to pacify the man, he did not wish to alienate him further by having an argument with him. In two bare hours that afternoon, Hibbert had proved his worth. His was a talent that had to be kept, nurtured, developed, refined and, at all costs, put beyond the reach of rivals such as Banbury’s Men. In The Malevolent Comedy, as in no other new play, Firethorn had something able to hold its own against Lamberto, the pride of the Curtain. However contentious he was, however intemperate his language, Hibbert had to be wooed.
‘And I’ve another complaint,’ said the playwright, returning to the fray. ‘I’m told that you play some mouldy old tragedy tomorrow.’
‘Black Antonio is popular with our audiences.’
‘But staged so often as to be threadbare.’
‘It was always our intent to offer it again tomorrow.’
‘But only if my play disappointed. Instead of which, it dazzled like the sun and left an audience begging to feel its warmth again. Why fall back on Black Antonio when you have a wonderful new play to offer?’
‘It was not felt proper, Saul.’
‘By whom? Barnaby felt it proper. He told me so. He believes that The Malevolent Comedy could occupy the stage for a fortnight.’