The Playmakers by Graeme Johnstone

Author:Graeme Johnstone
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: marlowe, murder, love, torture, dupe, passion, shakespeare, deceit, authorship, plays
Publisher: G. & E. Johnstone Pty Ltd

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Two days after he had returned from Norwich, Christopher Marlowe’s worst fears about his future were confirmed when Sir Thomas Walsingham arrived unannounced at Percy Fletcher’s Inn early in the morning.

“Can we speak?” he said to Budsby and Shakespeare. “It is important. Please get Master Marlowe down from his love-nest. I gather these days his bed at his little abode is usually cold, and he finds warmer lodgings upstairs.”

Walsingham, the master-spy himself, was, as usual, correct. Marlowe had become so infatuated with Rasa that sometimes he slept in the tiny bed with her in the small cubicle next to Sarah’s.

William called Christopher down, and along with Budsby and Soho - after Sir Thomas was assured the diminutive gargoyle would be the epitome of discretion - the five men went into one of the two small changing rooms that stood at each side of the stage.

Walsingham took one more peek out the door, and then shut it firmly.

“Gentlemen, I am afraid we have a problem,” he said gravely. “Christopher, you are, as they say, very visible at the moment.”

“Sir Thomas, my work makes me that way.”

“You work is exceptional, young man. It is brilliant. But it attracts the attention of people whose minds are closed. And you have certainly attracted it with your, how shall we call it, performance at Norwich.”

“I couldn’t help it, Sir Thomas. Our friend was being burned alive, and there was that evil weasel Baines, lurking around the back, gloating.”

“He was not only gloating, he was observing you, as part of ...”

“Part of what?”

“A total examination of many facets.”

“Such as?”

“Your relationship with Kyd, who seems to be hell-bent on being a like-minded rabble-rouser. Your friendship with Raleigh, a kingpin among the Free Thinkers, and those strange gatherings you have at, what is it, the School of the Night? Your thoughts, views and attitudes that do not necessarily run in tandem with the general consensus. Not to mention …”

“Not to mention what?” said Marlowe leaning forward.

“Your, ahem, friendship with … with …”

“You mean, Sir Thomas, because I am in love with Rasa, a person of a different colour, they think I am dangerous.”

“Christopher, you know how it is. These things can be misconstrued, misinterpreted. Perhaps if you were a little more, shall we say, discreet?”

“Oh, I’m supposed to hide it, am I? Not show my love in public? Pretend Rasa doesn’t exist?” Marlowe stood up and thumped the table. “I don’t need to hide. The scholarship boy is standing on his own two feet this time. I love Rasa and I am prepared to show everyone.”

“The trip to Norwich was not wise,” said Walsingham firmly. “Perhaps you could ease back on the plays, take a break. If your name was not in the public eye for a while, all this might blow over, Baines might get off your tail.”

“Never! I’m writing well. These things have to be said. And now is the time.”

Walsingham was not to be put off. “For example, Christopher, the new work you have just finished, Henry VI.

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