The Devil's Plague Read Online Free Page A
William Davenant and this hulk is my manservant, George Turnbull." Charles, who was in the process of clambering down from the tree, checked himself. He peered down at Davenant with an incredulous look. "William Davenant? Sir William Davenant?"
"You know of me? I am an actor of some repute."
"Of course I know of you. After all, it was my father who knighted you." Charles jumped the rest of the way down, and stumbled as he hit the ground. "I can't thank you enough," he said wearily, as Davenant helped him to his feet. "I had almost forgotten what it was like to stand on solid ground. We've been sheltering in that tree for far too long."
Turnbull turned his attention to Middleton who had started to vacate his position in the branches. Davenant shone his lantern in Charles' direction, wanting to take a closer look at the self-proclaimed King standing before him. To his astonishment he recognised the eyes almost immediately. They were piercingly dark and surrounded by the familiar hooded eyelids that made them appear to be half closed.
Davenant was immediately contrite, dropping to one knee. "Sir, you have my most humble apologies. Your likeness to your father is startling."
Charles grinned as he pulled him to his feet. "You have no reason to kneel before me, Sir William. I am led to believe that you were one of my father's closest allies. And he didn't have a great many of them towards the end." He extended his hand to Davenant, who received it warmly. "Perhaps, later on, you will indulge me with some stories of my father," he continued. "The tales I have heard hardly paint him in the greatest light."
"I would be delighted to share them with you, my Lord, but not here and not now. We must leave these woods immediately. I fear Cromwell's troops are not far behind us."
Charles nodded solemnly. "What do you suggest we do? I must return to France and we are far from Portsmouth."
There was a loud thud as Middleton and Turnbull came crashing to the ground. The two colossal men picked themselves up gingerly and brushed themselves down.
"So, what have you done to incur the wrath of Cromwell? It seems we share more than just a mutual respect for my father," said Charles.
"We are a troupe of actors, a company of players, my Lord. That does not fit in with Cromwell's miserable regime. Not to mention that I ran several missions for your father during the early years of the war that earned me some time in the Tower. But I digress, my Lord. We must make haste."
"Then we must leave with you."
"Is that wise, my Lord? Surely it would do neither of us any good should we be discovered together." The thought of being found harbouring England's most wanted man filled Davenant with dread. There would be no prison sentence this time around, he thought. He'd surely lose his head.
"We can help each other. Middleton and I can perform with you, undercover of course. In return, you can provide us with safe passage to Portsmouth."
"You can act?" Davenant was genuinely taken aback.
"I can." It was Middleton who replied, much to everyone's surprise. He carried a broad Scottish accent. "Don't seem so surprised," he continued. "I have performed in The Tempest , Hamlet and Othello back home."
"You see," said Charles, "we have plenty of experience between us!"
"We don't do Shakespeare," replied Betterton, piping up.
"That is irrelevant because we cannot take you with us." Davenant was becoming increasingly frustrated. "It's just too great a risk."
"If you won't do this for me, then do it for my father," pleaded Charles. "We need your help, Sir William. You know these roads far better than we. Your assistance at this difficult time will not be forgotten when I return to claim the throne, I promise."
Davenant considered his words for a moment. "Very well," he finally said. "Now let's go!"
The sun was beginning to rise and the sound of birdsong had started to emanate from the woodland they had just left behind. Davenant was relieved to have
"You know of me? I am an actor of some repute."
"Of course I know of you. After all, it was my father who knighted you." Charles jumped the rest of the way down, and stumbled as he hit the ground. "I can't thank you enough," he said wearily, as Davenant helped him to his feet. "I had almost forgotten what it was like to stand on solid ground. We've been sheltering in that tree for far too long."
Turnbull turned his attention to Middleton who had started to vacate his position in the branches. Davenant shone his lantern in Charles' direction, wanting to take a closer look at the self-proclaimed King standing before him. To his astonishment he recognised the eyes almost immediately. They were piercingly dark and surrounded by the familiar hooded eyelids that made them appear to be half closed.
Davenant was immediately contrite, dropping to one knee. "Sir, you have my most humble apologies. Your likeness to your father is startling."
Charles grinned as he pulled him to his feet. "You have no reason to kneel before me, Sir William. I am led to believe that you were one of my father's closest allies. And he didn't have a great many of them towards the end." He extended his hand to Davenant, who received it warmly. "Perhaps, later on, you will indulge me with some stories of my father," he continued. "The tales I have heard hardly paint him in the greatest light."
"I would be delighted to share them with you, my Lord, but not here and not now. We must leave these woods immediately. I fear Cromwell's troops are not far behind us."
Charles nodded solemnly. "What do you suggest we do? I must return to France and we are far from Portsmouth."
There was a loud thud as Middleton and Turnbull came crashing to the ground. The two colossal men picked themselves up gingerly and brushed themselves down.
"So, what have you done to incur the wrath of Cromwell? It seems we share more than just a mutual respect for my father," said Charles.
"We are a troupe of actors, a company of players, my Lord. That does not fit in with Cromwell's miserable regime. Not to mention that I ran several missions for your father during the early years of the war that earned me some time in the Tower. But I digress, my Lord. We must make haste."
"Then we must leave with you."
"Is that wise, my Lord? Surely it would do neither of us any good should we be discovered together." The thought of being found harbouring England's most wanted man filled Davenant with dread. There would be no prison sentence this time around, he thought. He'd surely lose his head.
"We can help each other. Middleton and I can perform with you, undercover of course. In return, you can provide us with safe passage to Portsmouth."
"You can act?" Davenant was genuinely taken aback.
"I can." It was Middleton who replied, much to everyone's surprise. He carried a broad Scottish accent. "Don't seem so surprised," he continued. "I have performed in The Tempest , Hamlet and Othello back home."
"You see," said Charles, "we have plenty of experience between us!"
"We don't do Shakespeare," replied Betterton, piping up.
"That is irrelevant because we cannot take you with us." Davenant was becoming increasingly frustrated. "It's just too great a risk."
"If you won't do this for me, then do it for my father," pleaded Charles. "We need your help, Sir William. You know these roads far better than we. Your assistance at this difficult time will not be forgotten when I return to claim the throne, I promise."
Davenant considered his words for a moment. "Very well," he finally said. "Now let's go!"
The sun was beginning to rise and the sound of birdsong had started to emanate from the woodland they had just left behind. Davenant was relieved to have
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