The Voice changed, somehow sounding again like that younger self that had spoken with Hulik. "Give me a torch, I am not for this ambling. Being but heavy I will bear the light."
Pausert had been looking at the words in the air, and tried to put on a "jollying" tone. "Nay gentle Romeo, we must have you dance!"
"Not I, believe me! You have dancing shoes with nimble soles, I have a soul of lead so stakes me to the ground, I cannot move."
Romeo sounded like a moping little teenaged fool. If I were his older friend, what would I sound like when he's in a mood like this? Pausert wondered. He made himself sound impatient; more than a little tired of this theatrical depression. "You are a Lover, borrow Cupid's wings, and soar with them above a common bound!"
The Voice was finished with him much quicker than with Hulik. "Good, good, you'll do. You're no Barrymore, mind—but if you can handle a sword at all, you're head and shoulders above anyone else we might use for the part. Now, Miss—Hantis, is it? Please step forward."
New words appeared in the air.
"You are something very different, my dear. Your appearance suits you ideally for a creature known as Puck. He is not human, is in fact a sort of magical spirit. He's also exceedingly mischievous. Begin, please?"
Hantis threw herself into the part with more enthusiasm than Pausert had expected—more enthusiasm than talent, perhaps, but The Voice did not interrupt her too quickly. "Good, good, that will do. Your appearance is half the thing, and when I've explained what all that seeming nonsense you've been reciting actually means, I believe you'll do very well. And the . . . grik-dog, I believe he is called? With jaws like that, it behooves me not to offend him."
"Pul," growled Pul.
"So it is. Pul, indeed. I mean to have you play one of Titania's attendants, and perhaps, if you do well, a much larger role in another play later on. You might make an interesting Caliban."
Pausert hadn't a clue what all that meant, but the Dame clapped her hands with glee. "Wonderful! And Miss Hantis for Ariel?"
"That was my thought. Now, let me see what the others can do."
The Voice ran through the rest of them in fairly short order. Goth did not seem to be at all unhappy that she was dismissed with: "A Fairy, an attendant on Juliet, and some crowd scenes, I think." But, then, she wouldn't be. Goth took a sly pleasure in being overlooked by people, as long as the captain wasn't one of them.
The Leewit, of course, scowled when she wasn't picked for a larger role, but she didn't make any open protest. Her lips didn't even start to purse for a whistle. Pausert would have been surprised, since the Leewit's self-esteem normally fell in the Mistress of the Universe range. But there was something immensely authoritative about The Voice that even seemed to affect her.
Vezzarn, however, completely declined to even audition, The Voice be damned. "Not me!" he declared, red-faced. "Couldn't recite at school, won't do it now."
Finally: "House Lights," said The Voice. The lights came up beyond the stage, showing a tall, gray-haired man sitting in the fourth row back.
As he stood, it was clear that he had a couple of inches on Pausert, and that he had the sort of face that people would remember.
"Miss Hulik, I hope you understand just what Dame Ethulassia is sacrificing here," he said gravely. "She is giving over the title role to you, a newcomer, not even a classically trained actress, when it is she who has been the leading lady of our company."
Pausert wondered if he had been the only one to hear the emphasis on the word "classically." Clearly, Richard Cravan was well aware that Hulik was an actress, even if he wasn't sure just what sort of actress she was.
"Believe me, I'm grateful," Hulik said, sounding as if she were.
"Piff!" said Ethulassia, with an exaggerated wave of her hands. "I still have Titania, Lady Macbeth, and Portia! And Lady Capulet is not so bad a role, anyway."
The Great Vamp returned, alas, and The Incredible Bosom underwent another suprahuman transformation. Ethulassia eyed Pausert through lowered lashes. "I shall be able to play her with that hint of suppressed passion that I've always wanted to do."
Cravan laughed. "Well, Captain! I believe that I can assure Himbo Petey that your crew is going to fully pay its way without anyone being relegated to roustabout or janitorial duty too frequently. Dame Ethulassia will see to it that you all have copies of the four plays we will be doing, with my explanations and annotations so that you can understand some of the archaic languages. There will be a prompter in your ear, and as you saw, we have LiteTitles to be sure that if you forget your lines, they will appear before you. They can be adjusted so the audience can't see them. Our first rehearsal will be tomorrow morning."
That seemed to be a dismissal, and Pausert set at example by turning and exiting the stage. He was followed by Goth, and then, belatedly, by the others.
"Commanding sort, isn't he?" Pausert remarked.
Goth wrinkled her nose. "He didn't even consider that any of us might not want to be in his plays."
"Of course he didn't," said Hulik with a smile, coming up behind them. "I've seen his type before. Born actors, and he simply can't even imagine that anyone in his right mind wouldn't wish to be on the stage."
Goth didn't seem put out, though. "As long as it means less sweeping, I'll learn to like it well enough."
"If it means less playing the fool, I'll definitely like it," said Pausert.
* * *
When the Petey B lifted off, Pausert scarcely noticed. He was used to the roar and acceleration of his own ship; but, of course, a delicate structure like the lattice ship could not take such stresses and so was using obsolete but still perfectly functional Orris-Jawl engines. The Petey B simply elevated, as gracefully and slowly as a puff-seed.
Slowly was indeed the hallmark—no fast getaways here! They took hours to get into space, with the ground of Vaudevillia slowly growing farther and farther away. Pausert would have liked to watch, but he was too busy.
When he wasn't learning his parts for the plays or rehearsing them, he was practicing his escapism, or he was dragooned into any one of a number of odd jobs that called for strength. Over the course of the Petey B's return to space, for instance, he could have been found moving and stowing cargo, bracing a ladder for one of the riggers in the "Big Top," or helping that same rigger haul up the net for the aerialists.
That experience was enough to convince him that "actor" was indeed the best job he could ask for on the ship. Truth to tell, he was hoping he wouldn't even have to spend too much of his time on Sideshow Alley.
So, he was pleased to discover that he had parts in all four of the new plays that Cravan's company was going to perform: He was a character called "Bottom" in A Midsummer Night's Dream, Mercutio in Romeo and Juliet, a servant called Launcelot in Merchant of Venice, and King Duncan in Macbeth.
Goth and the Leewit were particularly taken with Macbeth, for, with some amusement, Sir Richard had cast them at their own request as two of the three Witches. He had no idea why they wanted to play Witches, until at the first rehearsal, Goth played more of her light-shifts and levitated the potion ingredients into the huge cauldron, adding a very interesting bit of "business" to the scene.
Cravan said nothing more than "hm," but he agreed that they could have the coveted roles, and added Hantis as the third Witch. Since this also meant that none of them would be doing as much mucking-out for the animal-trainers, they were delighted.