Falstaff’s Murder (A Mystery of Shakespeare Book 3) by Leonard Tourney

Author:Leonard Tourney [Tourney, Leonard]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Lume Books
Published: 2015-09-01T00:00:00+00:00

17 – The Rehearsal

Now, Majesty, I must needs offend your royal ears the more and incite your wonder at the darkest pages in my narrative, for I must speak of basest treason, murder most foul, and accusations as false as hell.

Still, you have asked of Falstaff’s history, and I must in sacred duty tell the whole of it, must I not?

So then, besides the actors, the old doctor had been invited to sit at table, whose counsel regarding Falstaff’s gout, the knight sought and received with gratitude. The Woodards too, both seeming in better humour, having apparently resolved whatever conflict had divided them in the afternoon. Their children had been put to the care of one of the maids, Elspeth Godwin I think, a blessing indeed, for they were a noxious brood in company and the worse, I think when in their indulgent mother’s charge. Gadshill, the traitor, had not been so honoured, and for this I was glad, for of his surly manner and hostile gaze I had had enough for the day. It was enough at table that I had to endure the chief player’s occasional baleful glances after our dispute about the silly play that was to be our night’s entertainment. I was seated next to Angelo Cates, the handsome boy, we being the two youngest present. With him did I make conversation as we feasted on Sir John’s well-seasoned lamb and drank sack.

Or I should say he made conversation with me, for the lion’s share of our talk was of him.

He had, as I have written, a face much like an angel, with white skin any maid in England would have killed for and sweet pouty lips and grey eyes that I fell half in love with him in an instant, though he was of my own sex. He said he hailed from Plymouth, had been for time an apprentice to a shoemaker, but had run off because of much abuse and his master’s rage upon discovering his handsome apprentice sporting with the master’s wife.

“I was, good William, most falsely accused in the business, for it was my master’s fair daughter who gave me joy, not the mother at all.” And he winked lasciviously, leaving me to suppose that he had enjoyed both, if not the master’s son as well.

Angelo had been with Lord Houndstooth’s Men for eleven months and in such time had played nigh onto fifty parts, ever women. In such duties he had been kissed by each of the company dozens of time until his very lips ached with the memory and the best kisser of them all was Dick Wilkes, he said, though he doubted not that my lips should please as much as Wilkes’s had done, if not the more.

This hardly subtle invitation to dalliance shocked me, which reaction I endeavoured to hide, for what was I to do, stand up from table and denounce this comely youth as a base sodomite, unnatural in his urges? Instead, I smiled sweetly, as though he had complimented my penmanship, or some verses I had written.

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